#however I can say that I’m definitely burnt out

[serdtse]

//

[glitchfiles]

only 'til dawn. [ljn]

pairing ⋆ badboy!jeno x inexperienced/goodgirl!reader

wordcount ⋆ 2.7k+

warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!!!, softdom!jeno, smoking, shotgunning, car sex, big dick jeno, corruption, praise, light degradation, oral (m receiving), cowgirl, spanking (once), light choking, creampie...

note ⋆ i had to leave this one in my drafts for some time first because i didn't want to upload two car sex fics in a row then i wanted to rewrite it then i couldn't be asked to do that fully... so yeah, enjoy :D

"fuck," jeno drawls out as his head lolls to the side, "you're shit at this." he chuckles at your feeble attempt to give him a blowjob.

you look up at him, he seems totally unphased by your attempts to get him off, even going as far as to fish a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. the scowl that forms on your brow shows how much it dents your pride; he smirks down at you tauntingly.

"open your mouth a little more." he places a cigarette between his lips and lights the end. "you don't mind if i smoke, right?" you roll your eyes, he could have asked before. at least he had the courtesy to wind the window down.

there was no reason for you to debase yourself like this, the whole situation is beyond demeaning. you’re on your knees in the back of jeno’s car, struggling to please him and now he’s having a smoke mid-head?!

it felt as if your jaw was about to unhinge at any moment, you didn’t know it could stretch this far. the girls in the videos made it look so easy, compared to them, the way you were slobbering all over his girth was far from sexy. not to mention how you were clumsily pumping the rest of his length. not to toot your own horn, but you picked things up easily, this was a whole different ballpark to academic work. 

"you're too big," you whine. your lack of experience definitely didn't have anything to do with the shoddy head you were giving. how he was still hard was a wonder, you’re sure he’s seconds away from going flaccid.

normally, he would have put an end to the whole thing. it's not like he wasn't one text away from a few girls that could suck the soul out of him. however, considering how unsavoury his reputation was, the fact that you, the university’s golden girl, and much-revered student union president, were so eager to please him behind closed doors inflated his ego more than anything else could.

he couldn’t help but find humour in how ardently you refused to acknowledge him in public at times like this; if you spotted him on campus you looked the other way. but the moment he shot you a text, you were swooning and giggling, begging to meet up. so, here you were, in the dead of night, at the back of an empty parking lot a couple of miles away from campus.

“you’re lucky you have a patient teacher, i’m going to turn you into an expert!” jeno directs you between drags of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the windows as he laughs at you being unable to get the hang of it. saying you feel frustrated would be an understatement.

"i don't want to do this anymore," you sit up, finally admitting defeat and letting his heavy cock flop down against his abdomen. if jeno were a better person, he would have stopped you a few minutes ago, but you were so eager to please him and he loved the adorable pout on your lips and how your brows furrowed whenever you were exasperated.

"then what do you want to do?" you can think of a few things, but they would be super embarrassing to say. so, you refused to answer. he sighs before slotting his cigarette between his lips, leaving his hands free to pull you onto his lap.

"wanna try?" you don't know what possesses you, but you nod. 

how bad can it be? 

he taps the burnt end off, letting the ashes fall out the window before setting the cigarette between your lips. it feels childish to admit, but the fact that you had shared an indirect kiss makes you smile. this doesn't last long, though; after a short pull, you end up choking.

"god, that's awful!" you squeak as he belly laughs, only stopping when you hit his chest. all he's done tonight is tease you.

"i thought so too when i first tried." he soothes you, so as to not incur any more of your light-handed wrath. "why don't we start with some baby steps?" 

you're unsure what he means until his large, rough hand is placed gently under your jaw and his thumb brushes over your lower lip, "open up for me, angel."

he takes a long drag before tilting his head to the side and filling your mouth with a thick cloud of smoke. you're not sure what this is, but it feels intimate. it feels as if he’s breathing life into you. your whole body warms and tingles, your head spins, and a fire lights in your core.

once his lungs are empty, he seals it with a kiss. it's slow and passionate. his hand slides round to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. maybe it’s the nicotine running through your veins, you feel lightheaded. you let him slip his tongue past your lips to dance around your own.

the sweet flavour of your strawberry lip balm he was used to intermingled with the bitterness of his cigarette. he can't help but groan at the fact you taste a lot more like him now. 

the cigarette he's momentarily forgotten in his hand gets flicked away to burn to a butt somewhere on the tarmac outside. his now free hand comes to rest on your hip. it guides your body forwards, bringing your clothed centre flush against his bare cock.

you mewl into his mouth, he swallows down the sound. he’s greedy for more and starts rocking against you. grinding out then gulping down your noises, they go straight down to his cock. it’s throbbing, you can feel how painfully hard he is underneath you. only when he’s met with an uncomfortable stickiness due to his precum seeping through his shirt does he put an end to his gluttony.

a begrudging whine fills the car as he pulls your lips away from him. the look in his eyes alone was almost enough to make you cream, it was different to the cocky, yet lewd, eye fucking that seemed to be his default. those dark eyes of his turned into endless pits of boundless desire.

warm hands glide under your sweater, tugging it over your head, off your body to let it land somewhere in the front of his car. he does the same with his own shirt, sitting back to let you admire the rippling muscles on his torso. you delicately placed a hand on his chest, sliding it down to his abdomen; it seems he doesn’t have to have his dick in your mouth to have you drooling over him.

“like what you see, baby?” the smug look on his face makes your stomach twist.

“shut up,” you smash your lips against his again before he can speak again. 

jeno rushes to unclasp your bra, pushing the fabric out of his way so he can knead at your breasts; not before long, his mouth leaves you to pepper kisses down your neck then it encloses around one of your pert nipples. 

“mmm, jeno!” you mewl as his tongue laps at the bud, causing your back to arch in search of more stimulation. a hand weaves itself into his inky, thick locks, pushing him to give attention to the other side. “jeno, more!”

“i love hearing you say my name,” he growls against your chest, “wanted to hear you say it all week, but you don’t even spare me a glance unless i have my cock out.” 

you ignore the slight bitterness in his tone focusing on how he nips at your skin, leaving dark marks he hopes will last until he next sees you. marks that he hopes others will see and know you belong to someone; you’ll probably chastise him later over text but he doesn’t care, anything to keep him on your mind like you're always on his. 

reluctantly, he detaches himself from your chest and sits back, eyeing the drying traces of saliva he left with a dazed smile. 

“what next? tell me.” his hands delicately caress your hips, your cheeks begin to heat up and you avoid his eye contact. “don’t act all coy now, where’s the girl that begged me to drive her out here and fuck her dumb?” 

you were still clinging onto the last dregs of your virtuous good girl persona - the last white spots on a canvas he had first found unsullied. your first sin had been naivety, too easily seduced by a good-looking face and the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears but he had been more than happy to lengthen the list.

you wondered if this was how you had always been - or was he corrupting you. he broke down every conception you had of yourself and no one outside of the car you both sat in would believe this was you - you barely did yourself. some would say he was ruining you, but he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, this was all you.

“please…” you let your head fall onto the crook of his neck, voice barely above a whisper. “want you inside.”

“a smart girl like you can be more descriptive than that.” he strokes a finger down your back, leaving a trail of heat on your spine, in hopes of prompting lewder vocabulary. you take a moment to chew your bottom lip and swallow down the last bit of dignity you had.

“please, fuck me.” you weep against the shell of his ear, “fill my pussy up, i need you so bad, jeno.” 

“sound so pretty when you tell me what you want.” his low-toned praise makes you shiver as he flips your skirt up and raises your hips. he pushes your panties to the side to position his cock at your dripping entrance. taking a second to tease your slit, making sure to brush over your swollen clit, only to hold you still when your hips jerk forward.

“look at me, angel.” you perk up for him, “so beautiful,” he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. his gaze holds yours firmly as he brings you down on his bulbous tip, stretching you out slowly.

you struggle to keep your eyes from shutting. your mouth hangs open letting out hushed gasps as you sink down an inch at a time. he thinks you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“keep going... yeah, just like that... so good...” his soft gaze, light touch and encouraging words make things easier. he can feel your walls begin to relax and hungrily accept his girth. 

“‘s so fucking big,” you wail out, not even having taken him fully. you couldn’t quite yet without his help, though you’ll get there eventually - he’d make sure of that. 

“i know, baby, but you take me so well. can you move for me?” you nod shyly, lifting yourself and dropping back down as far as you can with a long whine. up and down, you split yourself open over and over. 

jeno’s hands press into your flesh, silently encouraging you to take more of him. you work your hips faster, earning a deep groan from him as his head falls back. instinctively, your mouth attaches itself to his neck, mimicking the way he had kissed and sucked at your own earlier.

“for such a sweet, innocent girl, you sure do ride like a slut.” he breathily laughs as his hand comes down on your ass with a sounding slap. “like the way my cock stretches this tight cunt out.” there’s no hiding the way your walls clench at the sharp sting. you try to find refuge from your embarrassment by hiding your face in his shoulder, but he quickly takes ahold of your throat, forcing you to sit up straight.

“don’t hide from me,” he tells you warningly and squeezes your neck lightly. once again your eyes lock, his stare as intense as ever. your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you rest your hands on his strong chest, adopting a faster pace. 

he lets out moans which you naturally reciprocate, however, you embellish yours with his name; you feel his cock twitch at the sound of it. the look in his eyes turns wild as his fingers dig deeper into the meat of your ass, forming a nearly bruising grip; with the other hand, he’s careful not to cut off airflow but forms a hold that leaves you feeling dizzy. 

“you know exactly what you do to me.” he chuckles, “you were fucking made for me, made for taking my cock, weren’t you? yeah, so perfect, angel.”

your legs begin to shake, his words and his cock are quickly pushing you towards the pinnacle. you try your very best to work through the overwhelming pleasure and the ache in your thighs, wanting to get him off since you failed at sucking his dick. but you can't seem to power through it, tears well in your eyes as everything becomes too overwhelming, it's far too much.

“need help, baby?” his soft spot for you wins, “did such a good job for me. i’ll take care of you, make you cum all over my cock. want that?”

“please, need to cum so bad.” his hand leaves your neck and places itself and your other asscheek. he plants his feet firmly and then rams up into you.

your brain goes blank in an instant. 

he’s deep. so deep. too deep!

you cry out, nails digging into his broad, muscular shoulders to anchor yourself. the tears that had threatened to leave your eyes before stream down your face, staining your cheeks. your whole body quivers as his cock lays kisses on your cervix with each thrust. 

“jeno, oh my god, right there!” you practically scream. his face screws at the feeling of your walls constricting, getting tighter by the second and making it harder to move; he powers through by jackhammering into you with more force. 

it feels like you could break at any moment, he's bouncing you on his cock like you're a ragdoll and you're too weak to do anything but take and enjoy it. all it takes is a few more thrusts before you’re creaming all over him. your body seizes as your eyes roll back, and his name tumbles from your lips incessantly in pleasured sobs. 

it’s hard to keep you in one place as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, but he handles your squirming body with ease using his strength. the most ungodly wet squelches fill the car as he races towards his own release, your sticky mess clings to both of your thighs. 

“shit… pussy’s sucking me in so deep, gonna cum.” his chest rises and falls dramatically, he can barely breathe. his thrusts get choppier as he loses himself to the feral urge to paint your insides pearly white.

a heavy groan rips through him as his balls tighten, he nestles his cock nice and deep as he pours hot spurts of cum into you. he fills you with warmth; you feel complete for a moment. unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually. 

you could almost start crying again when he pulls you off of him. his praise on how well you took his cum as it dribbles out of your cunt makes up for it, though. his tongue swipes across his lips as he watches it drip all over his cock, unbothered by the fact half of it is soiling his leather car seats too. 

the sound of your wild breathing is all that fills the car for a moment until his lips find yours one last time. breathlessly kissing you, there is less vigour than before but just as much passion. your heart warms for a moment at the almost bashful smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours and wipes the tears that still cling to your soft skin.

this feels right, perfect even, but it only takes a few words for him to fuck it all up.

“wanna come over to mine?” jeno regrets his words immediately, the expression on your face sour at the thought of someone spotting you walking into his dorm or one of his loud-mouthed roommates blabbering about you spending the night together.

give jeno a hand and he’ll end up taking the whole arm.

you pull away from him suddenly remembering who you are.

“don’t be ridiculous, you know i can’t even be caught dead with you.” you grimace at the mess between your legs as you reposition your panties; then, you search for the clothing he had strewn around the car.

you don’t even look at him when you demand him to. “just drop me off where you usually do.”

jeno grins even at your cold-hearted rejection. not just anyone could say they had a place between your legs; he’s sure he’ll have a place in your heart too soon enough…

★ thanks for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests! :3

© glitchfiles

[f1girliefics]

Dangers on the Track

Daniel Riccardo x Reader

Summary: All he saw was flames and smoke, he assumed the worst.

Daniel was a naturally happy person. 

He was always smiling, laughing and joking around.

But not now, not when he was so powerless and worried. 

Not when he had to sit and watch his girlfriend trapped in a burning car.

It was only practice.

Practice on a very slippery and wet track.

It was a simple turn, nothing more. You had done it many many times before. And yet, the next thing everyone knew was the Mercedes in the wall, on fire.

Daniel’s leg bounced up and down as he kept getting more and more impatient. 

You were still in there.

Everyone else came back to the pits, they were all watching, hoping and praying. 

Daniel wanted to yell, scream and yet he couldn’t.

All he could do is watch.

Watch as they finally got you out of that damned car.

Unconscious, but you were finally out.

They rushed you to the safety car.

Daniel got up and rushed to the infirmary, where they got you in just as he arrived.

“Mr Ricciardo, please wait here.” The doctor said as Daniel nodded.

He knew better than to argue. He knew better than to stand in the way of the professionals.

He watched all this unfold, he can wait for another ten minutes.

“Sir, we had a look at her, she has a minor concussion, thankfully they got her out in time, however, she has small burns on her hands, probably the worst, second degree on her neck. But she will live.” Explained the doctor and Daniel nodded, thanking the doctor before he headed into the room. 

You were awake, but he could tell you were in a lot of pain.

“Danny.”

“Hello Darling. How are you feeling?”

“Like I just walked to hell and back.”

“They told you?”

“That I have a mark on my neck from now on? That I got burnt? They kinda didn’t have to. It hurts pretty bad.” You smiled. “But it probably hurts more seeing you not smile.”

Daniel chucked at that.

“It’s hard, after just watching you in fire.”

“Now you know how I felt when you broke your hand.” You said as you let out a long sigh. “Do you think it would be too morbid to get some grilled chicken for dinner?” Now that made Daniel laugh out, even if tears fell from his eyes. 

“Chicken will be perfect.” He ended up saying. “But I doubt they will let you out just yet.”

“Oh, that’s fine, you should go back to the others.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He held your hand in his, his finger running over your ring, a ring matching his.

“Do you think I will look badass with my scar?”

“Oh, for sure! Just don’t go full Joker on me.” This made you laugh.

“I was thinking getting a coin and becoming Scar-Face.”

“Oh, that is also good.” he pointed it out. “But I am glad you are alive.”

“I told you Danny, I don’t want a Mercedes to be my coffin, we will get old together, I promised.”

“I know we did. I keep my half, you keep yours.”

“Kiss me.” You said and he didn’t need to be told twice, he leaned closer and put a kiss on your lips.

You definitely plan on keeping your end of the promise. And he will keep his.

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[vacantwatchers]

Platonic Stobin discuss Steve's relationship with Nancy. It's kind of critical on Nancy bc I'm biased (and a hater). Read it on Ao3 here.

“Explain to me why Henderson thinks you’re into Nancy again.”

“Fuck knows, Rob. I haven’t seen her around, let alone spoken to her since all that shit at the mall.” He didn’t really like the way she’d frowned at Robin when they’d met up, definitely hadn’t liked the antagonistic tone she used when she’d asked who Robin was.

Steve felt Robin sigh before the gentle weight of her head rested atop his. “The little gremlin cornered me at lunch and demanded to know why we weren’t dating–”

“I’m out of your league,” Steve muttered to her right hand as he slowly coated her index in the dark red polish.

“Keep believing that, Popeye. He asked me if I thought you were repugnant or something and that's why I wouldn't give you the time of day.”

Steve paused to swipe away polish with his nail. “What does repugnant mean?”

Robin hummed, a little delay as she tried to find a definition for him. Steve can imagine her flicking through a little rolodex that’s full of what Robin considers Steve approved explanations.

In the space of his waiting, he’d managed to finish the first coat on her right hand and gently lifted her hand up, smiling to himself at the way Robin moved from his hand to his shoulder.

(It took three weeks of working in Family Video, working back to back shifts so dead they made the burnt shell of Starcourt look lively for Robin to come in one day with a bulging pencil case and the demand that “if you’re just going to sit there, at least paint my nails, dingus.” It took three attempts with Robin smudging her nails with her flailing before they established that when he finished a hand, he would lift it, and she would rest it on his shoulder.)

“Repugnant is like when something is really distasteful, unacceptable.”

“Tammy Thompson’s muppet singing is repugnant.”

Robin snorted into his hair. “Perfect use of repugnant, Steve. It’s also a word you can use similar to revolting, repulsive, disgusting and offensive.”

Pulling her left hand closer to his right side so he could see what he was doing, Steve hummed. “Okay. So Dustin thinks you think I’m revolting, repulsive, disgusting, and offensive?”

“Yeah, Steve, I told him I just couldn’t date such a disgusting man who spends twenty minutes on his hair after a shower and ignores me every time I tell him he needs to go to an optometrist because the way he can’t see makes me sad. No. I said that while I am happy to spend my life with you as my soulmate, we are strictly platonic.”

Sliding the brush back into the bottle, Steve gently swiped his nail down the side of Robin’s thumb. “That absolutely didn’t shut him up. Give them a minute before I do the next coat.”

Robin nodded her understanding, which made him nod. “No, me saying that didn’t stop him. Me asking if the reason he was so interested in your love life was because he was the one with the crush on you, however, did.”

“Ew, Robin, he’s like my brother.”

“That is exactly what he said, just with a lot more volume and yelling.”

Steve leaned further into the weight of Robin at his back, taking a moment to absorb the fact that she lets him take whatever touch he needs without freaking out the same way she does whenever someone else tries to touch her in the slightest. Uses the pause to organise his thoughts out of the jumbled train they come at him in. “I’m not sure when, uh. When we dated, I’m not sure it was love.”

“Okay.” Robin’s hum tingled through his diaphragm. “Talk it through, you were convinced last year you’d loved her. Don’t even try to think it out for me like you do, just say it all.”

“The ol’ Robin treatment, huh?”

“I hate that that is what you call it, but yes. Please proceed.”

“We dated, and I tried to be there for her, right? Like I had to go to these absolutely depressing dinners with Barb’s family every fucking week, because Nancy thought it was the right thing to do and I had to pretend to eat the food, and I tried to give her space when it felt like she was pulling away. I’d take her out to get her away from thinking about it all because I could see that she was struggling and thought maybe doing normal shit teenagers did would help. Would sit with her and listen when she needed me to, or just be with her when she needed silence. I’d ask about how she slept, and if she was still having nightmares, I would reach out and just try and hold her hand or hug her.

“But, I don't know. I’ve been thinking back on it, and Nancy never really did the same shit back, y’know. She would have these moods where she’d just be so angry. Angry at herself, the situation. Me. And I get it, it was fucked up and we couldn’t tell anyone without the threat of being taken away. But she’d go on and on about how we killed Barb and it was our fault and then it would turn into how it was my fault she was dead. And then so often she would say this line and at first I was like, she’s saying it in this fond way so she doesn’t mean it, but she said it so oft–”

“What would she say?”

Steve tilted his head back so he could look up at Robin. “What?”

“Nancy. What would she say?”

“Oh.” Steve looked back down, fiddling with the nail polish bottle. “She’d say ‘you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington’ and she’d make these comments, and I don’t even know if she was aware of it. Like she’d call me dumb and say don’t be stupid, or imply that I wouldn’t be able to do something or understand because I wouldn't get it.

“And when she went over my work she’d say it never made sense, and like, her tone, her tone always said it because I wasn’t smart enough. Like, she’d read over things and point and make comments, and honestly, it was more confusing than anything because the points made sense to me, but apparently not to her–”

Robin made her little grunting sound. She did it every time she needed to interject something. “Yeah but that's like, your mind's process. You do it when you talk too, that structuring thing you do where you make these links to things, and it all somehow flows. My mom said you might have something called dyslexia or dysgraphia. One of those two.”

Steve looked up at Robin, eyebrows scrunching up. “You talk to your mom about me? When did she even have time to figure that out?”

“I talk about you to her all the time because we both love you. And she noticed when you were helping me with my English homework.”

Huh. “Okay then.”

“Keep going with what you were saying, sailorman.”

Seven months, and she still hasn't given up on the nautical nicknames. Jesus.

“After early admissions for colleges had closed, Henderson actually found the essay I wrote, and he said it was good. That the parallels were there and with only a little tweaking it would have been great, and when I mentioned what Nancy said he kind of paused before reading it again and said he didn’t see what she was talking about. He even had his mom read it because for a while, she was admin for a college, and she said it would have gotten me in. After Christmas, I asked Nancy if she wanted to go with me to tour some colleges once and she looked at me when I dropped some of the names and said, ‘Do you think they’ll believe you’d fit in there?'"

“Jesus Christ,” Robin muttered.

“It just, it built up and I think at the time I was blind to it because I was trying to lose myself in the relationship, in being there for her.”

“What about you?” Robin’s hand slid down from its perch on his shoulder to his chest so she could pull him closer. “Was she there for you? Like, you told me that since ‘83 you can’t eat meat because of the smell of burning demogorgon put you off, and that having to lure the demodogs with meat was really triggering. And I know you have trouble sleeping and you have those awful nightmares that make it so that sometimes you can’t eat.

“Which, can I just say, is really concerning because you already have this habit of forgetting to eat even when you’ve brought lunch. And I know it’s probably something to do with the way you get stuck into stock or shelving, but I hate it when you get into that groove. But I’ve also figured out that you will eat anything I hand to you, as long as I’ve taken a bite first, so it’s not that bad.”

Needing to move a little, Steve tightened the nail polish and started shaking the bottle.

“Oh, uh. Those dinners with Barb’s family, it was always KFC, that’s why I never ate anything there. She’d actually get annoyed because she thought it was disrespectful? That I only ate the bread and chips? And after that first night where Barb died, Nancy never came over to my house again because she said it had too many bad memories and it made her uncomfortable to be there. So she never really saw the nightmares. When she wanted to see me, she would have me come over and she’d push me on the bed and then when she was done she’d tell me it was getting late, and kind of push me towards her window to go.”

“Steve– that doesn't sound healthy at all.”

"Yeah."

Lifting the nail polish bottle, Robin took it as the signal it was and dropped her hand in his again.

“I think, even when I was dating her, she talked more to Jonathan than me.”

“That’s fucked up, Steve.”

“I think that’s just trauma, Bobby. We weren’t good together. I don’t know. Whatever Dustin is seeing between us is completely in his head. Especially considering the money moves I'm making with Operation Metalhead.”

“You need to stop saying money moves. All you've done is wave at him and blush when he loaned you a Megadeth tape.”

Gently guiding her hand back into his best field of vision, Steve started in on the second coat. “I don't know, sounds pretty money to me.”

Steve felt Robin inhale for a deep sigh, her warmth increasing against his back for a moment before she exhaled. "I think Eddie might have actually graduated before Operation Metalhead gets anywhere close to being a success."

[tlou-reid]

You Are In Love ❆ Spencer Reid

☃︎ SUMMARY: spencer makes a promise before he has to leave for a case right before Christmas.

☃︎WARNINGS: 2.5k words of unedited ooey gooey Christmas fluff, reader is shorter than spencer

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

Morning, his place. Burnt toast, Sunday. 

Spencer’s hair was the messiest you’d ever seen it. It took everything in you to not bring your hand to smooth it, but the cup of coffee was heavy enough in your hand as is. You didn’t want to risk falling from your comfortable spot on his counter. The chill of the marble under your thighs was in sharp contrast to the warmth in your heart.

“Crispy bacon?” Spencer asked he laid four pieces in the nonstick pan. They sizzled, mimicking the sparks between you and Spencer. They never left the air when you were together. “Mhm,” You nodded, taking another sip of your coffee. Spencer was convinced you liked yours the same he likes his, extra cream and extra extra sugar. You had mentioned you liked your coffee sweet, to which Spencer was excited about your matching orders, and you never had the heart to tell him you didn’t mean that sweet.

“Want me to start the toast?” You asked, hopping down from your cozy corner. He nodded, reaching up to open the cabinet where the bread was. Your hand slid across his slim waist as you passed behind him. His lips quirked up in a smile, suppressing the laugh from the tickle of your touch.

“I like when we make breakfast sandwiches,” You informed him as you slid down the knob on the toaster, dropping the bread into it. “Yeah?” Spencer asked absentmindedly, too focused on flipping the bacon without spilling grease on himself. “We can make them however we want!” You cheered as you sliced up an avocado.

Time passed quickly, as it does when you’re having fun. Both of you were caught up in both your tasks, and each other, that neither of you noticed the lack of the toaster popping until the smell of burnt bread flooded Spencer’s kitchen.

“You burnt the toast?!” Spencer squealed, making his way to the smoking toaster. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his voice raised an octave. It was too hot to pull the bread out, so he resorted to completely flipping the toaster, shaking it to get any burnt crumbs from the bottom. You were a mess of laughter behind him. “This is not funny!” His voice sounded angry, but the wide smile on his face betrayed his act.

“It definitely is,” You said through laughter, moving to help him sweep the crumbs from the counter into your hands. He shooed you away, exclaiming, “Go assemble the sandwiches while I clean up your mess.”  With one last bout of laughter, you made your way back to the plates, putting the sandwich on regular bread, not wanting to bother with toasting it again.

You keep his shirt, he keeps his word.

You’re putting the last bite of your breakfast sandwich in your mouth when Spencer’s phone goes off. You can’t help the way your stomach falls, knowing it means he’ll have to leave again. There were always tough emotions that came with him leaving, but with it being so close to the holidays, you just wanted him to be home.

It’s your first Christmas being an official couple and you wanted to spend it cuddled up around the tree, exchanging gifts and calling his mom. If he wasn’t going to be home for it, you were going to be quite disappointed.

With a sigh, Spencer went to retrieve his phone from the coffee table in the living room. You saw him reach between two stacks of books to get it and read over it quickly. He drops his arm in disappointment, throwing his head back a bit. It must be far, you thought. Spencer turns to you, remorse all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when he stands in front of you, “I have to go.” All of the energy in his voice from earlier had dissipated, leaving him just a shell of who he was this morning. “Where?” You asked, pretending he didn’t notice the tears in your eyes as you looked up to him. “Washington State,” He tells you as he bends down to your level, placing his hands on your cheeks. One of his thumbs comes up to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall.

“I’m sorry,” He repeats, eyes scanning over your disappointed face. “I’ll be home in time for Christmas.” Spencer’s voice is so assured that you almost believe him. If he had control over it, you would. He can see the doubt all over your face, so he speaks again, “I promise, I’ll be home. I’ll leave the case early if I have to.”

You’re immediately shaking your hand, taking his hands with you. “You can’t do that,” You say as more tears slip down your cheeks, “You gotta catch the bad guy.”

“I will,” he rushes out, wanting to say anything to stop you from crying. He’s doing his best to catch all of the tears that are falling. “We’re the best at what we do, we’ll catch him. I’ll be home.” All you can do is nod and pretend you believe him. Spencer has no choice but to accept this.

He doesn’t move his hands until the tears stop. “I have to leave, but you can stay. You can stay here the whole time I’m gone if you want.” You glance around his apartment, taking in all of the things that were just so Spencer, and the colorful Christmas decorations you'd put up together. Your eyes land on the book he’d been reading to you last night, knowing that you’d prefer to be in the comfort of your home, but wanting to take a piece of him with you.

“I want to go home if that’s okay?” You ask, meeting his eye once again. “Of course,” he assures you. “Can I take this?” You ask, moving to grab the book and holding it up to him. Strangers on a Train, one Spencer had read multiple times. “Yes!” He beams, loving that you want to continue reading his novel.

“And this?” You point to the sweater lying over the back of the couch. One that you knew smelled like him. “You can take anything you want,” he promises, taking a few steps toward you.

He stops when he’s close enough to put his hands on your cheeks again, pulling you in for a deep kiss. Spencer’s lips taste sweet from his sugary coffee, but feel like home. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll be home,” he repeats one last time. He uses his grip to pull your face down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then makes his way to his bedroom to get dressed for work.

And for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts.

You had thought it was Spencer who had no choice but to believe you when you agreed to him making it home before Christmas, but it turns out it was you. You held on to his sentiment while he was gone, repeating ‘he’ll be home’ in your head when you looked around the sparse decorations in your home. Knowing you both wanted to spend Christmas at Spencer’s, you barely bothered to decorate your own.

It didn’t help that your job had given you off for the holiday, so you didn’t have much to busy yourself with. You caught up on shows you had been missing, finished the book you’d brought from Spencer’s, and finished up last-minute Christmas shopping.

Most of all, you kept telling yourself to believe him. No matter how scorned you’d been by lovers in the past, all you had was his word and you needed to hold onto it. 

There was nothing Spencer had ever done that would indicate he would intentionally lie to you, but he couldn’t control the unsub or the trails they left behind. Part of you felt selfish, wanting Spencer to wrap up the case to get home in time to open presents and watch Christmas movies instead of wanting Spencer to wrap up the case because of any potential victims, but the other part of you was too excited to care.

You curled up in your bed, where Spencer’s sweater was lying across your pillow. As cheesy as it sounded, it was easier to sleep when you knew there was a piece of him next to you. You flicked through channels, hoping to find some kind of Christmas-related thing. Being two days before Christmas, it was quite easy to find. You landed on some cheesy movie, titled A Christmas Prince.

One step, not much, but it said enough.

You were almost at the end of the movie and starting to dose off when your phone vibrated next to you. You checked the time before answering the call, 11:48 pm. “Hello?” You asked, still trying to wake yourself up enough to be coherent for this conversation.

On the other side of the line, Spencer called your name. “Spence?” You asked again, sitting up. “Hi, honey,” His voice was light but tired. He was clearly in a good mood. “Are you okay?” You asked, wondering why he was calling so late. “I 'm wonderful,” his smile was wide, even if you couldn't see it, “I have good news.”

“Yeah?” You were awake now, able to guess what he was about to say. “I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon, in time for Christmas, just like I promised.” Now, you could hear both the smile and smugness in his voice. Spencer didn’t get boosts of confidence often, but holding a promise to his girl was definitely one of them.

“I knew it!” You cheered, unbelievably happy that you didn’t succumb to the negative thoughts you had previously. You had held your faith in him, despite the way you’d been lied to and cheated on in the past.

You couldn’t see it, but Spencer’s smile grew tenfold. Even across the country from you, you found a way to make his heart race and his hands shake. “You believed me?” His previous confidence had dissipated, turning into a form of awe. He’d never had someone trust his word like you did, even if it was only a Christmas promise.

“Of course I did, Spence, I always will.” You assured him. His smile somehow grew bigger, lighting up the dull police department he was in. “We have a few technical things to wrap up before we get home, but I’ll treat you to lunch and we can figure out what movies we’ll watch on Christmas day.” He promised. “Sounds like a date,” He could hear your smile now. Spencer’s heart was pittering in his chest, hard and fast. He was really falling for you

You kiss on sidewalks. You fight, and you talk. 

Your hand was held tightly in Spencer’s as you excited the cafe together. “You think Elf is better than the Grinch?” You exasperated, throwing up your other hand in disbelief. He laughed, pushing you to get even angrier, “Obviously, Will Ferrell’s in it.”

You let out an even more dramatic sigh, stopping in your place on the sidewalk to turn and face him. You looked like you were about to lose it as you said, “You think Will Ferrell is better than Jim Carrey?!?!” This sent Spencer into a fit of laughter, doubling over and holding his chest as they escaped from him.

“Spencer!” You called again, stepping forward and putting your hand on his chest to make him stand up straight. “Please, tell me you’re messing with me.” He was smiling stupidly and his eyes were sparkling as he stared down at you. He didn’t answer, instead, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

You deepened it by placing your hands on the sides of his face and holding him closer to you. You two stood for a few seconds, in the middle of the sidewalk, and so, incredibly, deeply in love. Spencer pulled away when a car passed by, reminding him that you were out in public. The previous argument was quickly forgotten, for a moment.

You let out a sigh of contentment, reaching for his hand again. “I’m so glad you made it home.” He dragged his thumb along your hand, tickling your palm, “Me too, this way we can watch Elf together.”

He let out another laugh as you dropped his hand and stomped a couple of paces away. “Oh my god,” you huffed.

One night, he wakes, strange look on his face. Pauses, then says, “You’re my best friend.”

You two made it back to Spencer’s with full bellies and cold hands. You knew Spencer was tired from wrapping up the case this morning, so you didn’t complain when he collapsed on the couch. “You wanna change?” You asked, hanging up your coat. He shook his head and replied with a “uh-uh.” You giggled at his childlike demeanor as you sat down next to him.

Spencer moved to rest his hand on your shoulder, pulling you close to him by your waist. “Thank you, Spence.” You said into the top of his head before pressing a kiss into his hair. “For what?” He asked, closing his eyes at your touch. “Making it home in time.”

“I promised you I would,” he reminds you. “I know, but I also know you can’t control it sometimes.” He nods, both agreeing with you and encouraging you to keep playing with his hair.

He falls asleep quickly in the position, loving the scratches you’re leaving on the back of his neck.

The sun sets as you make yourself comfortable next to him, trying not to wake him up. You pulled a random book from one of the stacks on his coffee table to busy yourself, and try to make yourself as tired as he was, so you could go to bed. But, the excitement of Christmas was keeping you awake.

You were finishing up the third chapter when he stirred. To your surprise, Spencer sat up. His eyebrows were furrowed, but there was a fond smile on his face as he brought his hands up to sleepily rub at his eyes. He blinked a few times, adjusting his vision to the darkness of the room. He was only being illuminated by the glow of the white lights from the Christmas tree.

Spencer turned to you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a bigger smile. He only looks at you for a few seconds, before cuddling back up next to you. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Spencer slurs, too tired to string together a completely coherent sentence. “You’re mine too, Spence.” You assured, not knowing if he was awake enough to hear you. You pressed another kiss to his head, whispering a quiet, “Merry Christmas,” to him.

And you knew what it was, he is in love. 

[crispycreambacon]

Ending April with a small parting gift. I’m gonna miss this.

Anyways, an announcement of my own.

The short of it

I’m leaving the Watcher fandom. Don’t worry, I won’t be unfollowing anyone, but I will be ceasing the creation of art for Watcher and interaction with the community at large. Thank you all for this short but meaningful ride. Feel free to unfollow me if you were here for Watcher art, and for those who stick around…

Thank you :]

I hope to not disappoint with this new era of mine.

The long of it

It’s been a couple of days since a certain channel dropped an announcement that imploded its fandom. It was… a mess. A lot—and I mean a lot—of us didn’t handle the news well, and we made that known to everyone. The impact was so massive that YouTubers, who are nowhere near the niche that Watcher operates under, covered the situation, and some of them explained very well why the decision went over so poorly. Meanwhile some of them made fun of the situation, and some were just there for the clicks, but that’s the cycle of YouTube drama for you.

With the amount of ears waiting for even a peep out of their mouths, Watcher couldn’t ignore the backlash any longer and released an apology video three days after the announcement. By all accounts, it was a pretty good response. The reception was mixed, but it was definitely more well-received than their first video, and they actually listened to their fans who gave them valid criticism over the sudden shift to a streaming service.

However…

For as much as I appreciate their response, I still can’t find it in myself to continue following Watcher. I really mean it when I say this disaster soured any enjoyment I had for them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch them again for a long time without thinking about this situation or remembering the people they have hurt, even if unintentionally, through their poor execution of a business decision.

Do I believe they could’ve pulled off moving their content to a streaming service? Absolutely. However, so many factors doomed this decision and their announcement from the start from them believing that $5.99/month was “affordable to everyone” (seriously?) to them insisting that this was for the fans even though the fans have vocalized that they were never there for the high production value. They were there because the three guys who run Watcher were enjoyable!

I feel like if they had been honest about the fact that the TV quality they are aiming for was more for themselves than anyone–hell, it’s the mission statement in their About page, and, I don’t know, considered the idea that $6 is not cheap, especially for international fans, people wouldn’t have gotten so angry at them. Now, there are still numerous issues plaguing this business model, but to go through all of the arguments would require a separate post, and I’ve already expended too much energy on this situation. Needless to say, Watcher has burnt their bridges, and it will take a while before they can build them back up again, let alone get people to trust them enough to cross them.

On the other hand, I can’t blame Watcher fully for my departure. Despite my heavy disagreement with their initial decision, I understand why they thought this decision was a good idea in the first place as YouTube is a very unstable career path, and it would rather hurt its creators with its relentless demonetization, censorship and restrictive guidelines than give up just a tiny amount of its profit. Besides, they’re in control of their content, and they could do what they want with it even if their fans disagreed with them.

Speaking of the fans, my god. The situation revealed a side of the fandom that I never thought I would see, but in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. To see fans resort to anti-Asian racism and death threats so quickly was extremely heartbreaking, and as an Asian person, it made me feel very unsafe and unwelcome in the community.

Moreover, using Steven as a scapegoat to absolve Ryan and Shane of any wrongdoing was unfortunately a very common response. Yes, he is the CEO, and yes, his series being centered on traveling and eating expensive food really doesn’t paint him in a positive light, but need I remind you that RYAN AND SHANE ARE GROWN ADULTS. They’re the founders of Watcher, and they both have to agree to the initial plan for it to be implemented. You can’t assume that Steven was a boogeyman terrorizing your precious little boys just based on a 15-minute video. You don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes.

All of this to say that the initial announcement combined with how the community reacted violently to the announcement really nipped my interest in Watcher in the bud. It was a shame too because I really did love Watcher, and I still do. Had it not been for the time I invested in following them, I wouldn’t have made great friends, regained the joy in creating art–even reviving a hobby/skill that I assumed was long dead, and had a reason to be able to laugh or smile even in terrible days. I truly am grateful for Watcher, and I do not regret ever getting into them at all. However, I think it’s time for me to go.

Thank you all for this weird and wonderful ride, but at some point, you’ll have to hop off. I just didn’t expect to hop off it so soon.

[thenightfolknetwork]

I study maths at uni, and you would be surprised at how often all the arcane-looking symbols mathematicians manipulate cross into being actually arcane (in a thaumaturgically potent sense). It’s an absolute pain if you, like me, are from a genus with… shall we say intense thaumaturgic sensitivities. 

Things have been coming to a head with the graph theory class I’m taking this term. I absolutely love graph theory, in fact I want to do my thesis research in it someday, but my allergies have been getting so bad that I’ve been considering abandoning the field entirely. 

See, graphs, the formal mathematical sense, are objects  consisting of verticies connected by edges. These can be visualised by drawing a bunch of dots (representing the verticies) connected by lines (representing the edges). Many common shapes and symbols are visualisations of graphs! Take, for instance, the complete graph on five vertices (K5 for short). To visualise K5 you can draw your five dots equally spaced in a circle, draw a straight line between each pair of these dots, and… arrive at a little known symbol called a pentagram. 

Which is exactly what I did when working on a homework problem a couple of weeks ago. I was so focused on the maths I didn’t even realise what I had drawn until my hand started smouldering. I managed to put out the blaze, but not before my work was burnt to a crisp. I was working on the assignment the night before it was due- I know, I know- so I didn’t have time to rewrite it. Needless to say, my professor was not particularly interested in marking the pile of ash I turned in, and I was curtly informed that “I’m allergic to my homework” is not a valid excuse for failing to turn in legible coursework. 

I’m at an impasse. K5 is an extremely mathematically important graph- it’s the smallest complete graph that’s not planar. That is, you can rigorously prove it’s impossible to draw K5 without your edge lines intersecting, even if you are allowed to curve the lines however you want as long as you don’t lift your pencil. This results in K5 having some rather interesting pathological behaviour that makes it an important counterexample in many graph theory proofs …but I digress. Point is, that (quite literally) infernal K5 graph is ubiquitous in graph theory, and it’s far from the only thaumaturgically reactive symbol in the field. I’ve had some other near misses - once I even started to spark during lecture, though no fire broke out that time thankfully. The professor is getting increasingly impatient with me and has given me an ultimatum: get my thaumaturgic allergies under control or drop out of the course. I don’t know what to do. Please help. 

[OOC: thanks for bearing with the long mathematical infodump- I love your podcast, the premise leaves so much room for creativity and I have many thoughts about how the canon might tie into my favorite subject. It is true that mathematics historically could get weirdly occult-adjacent. In particular the pentagram, in addition to having interesting mathematical properties, was also the symbol of the delightfully bizarre secretive math cult founded by the Greek scholar Pythagoras- as in the Pythagorean theorem guy. I think in the MA universe there was definitely something liminal going on with the man. Also, for a proof that K5 is not planar- along with other graphs with certain properties- here’s a really cool open source resource! I do love graph theory a lot- this result in particular is really fun to play around with https://discrete.openmathbooks.org/more/mdm/sec_planar.html)]

First things first, reader – thank you so much for bringing me a question that reminds me how much I still have to learn about the world. I admit, mathematics has never been my strong suit, but I've always thought it was a fascinating field of study. Your letter makes me want to learn more!

Fortunately, your particular predicament is rather easier to solve than untangling the mathematical mysteries of the universe. You can deal with your thaumaturgic allergy on two fronts – both by treating the allergy itself, and by securing some additional support from your university.

For the allergy itself, it may seem obvious but have you tried taking an antihistamine before you start your homework? Thaumaturgic allergies function the same as any other allergic reaction, even if the physical response from your body is rather… different.

If over-the-counter antihistamines aren't effective, make an appointment with your GP. Depending on the severity of the allergy, they'll be able to explore treatment options with you or refer you to a specialist. This may include other medication or perhaps desensitisation therapy, where you will be exposed to gradually increasing levels of magic to build up your thaumaturgic tolerance.

As an aside, I must urge you never to attempt such desensitisation on your own. Quite apart from the health risk this poses to yourself, there is also the combustible nature of your allergy to take into account. Besides which, paying a magical practitioner to do random spells in your vicinity in the hopes of prompting a reaction strikes me as an especially dangerous way to waste one's money.

While you're pursuing the medical side of your issue, I encourage you to seek out proper support from your university. I'm pleased to say that your lecturer is thoroughly in the wrong here – being allergic to your homework absolutely counts as grounds for reasonable adjustments, including an extension on your missed deadline.

Your university should have a system in place for supporting students with disabilities and other additional needs. Get in touch with them at the earliest opportunity to talk through the options available for you. At the very least, they should be able to provide you with some thaumaturgically non-reactive writing materials with which to do your work.

Finally, a word of reassurance. Allergies can be extremely frustrating, and even frightening, especially when they aren't taken seriously by the people around you. But there are plenty of treatments available and I see no reason why this should get in the way of your chosen career. And if you do happen to make any breakthroughs in the wonderful world of mathematics, I'd love to hear – even if I might not quite be able to follow!

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[maidflowery]

𝗦𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗭𝗘! (𝟮/𝟰) 🔞NSFW🔞 𝙻𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

Moze x Reader Limited time event: 5 September - 10 September

Decide his fate by voting in the poll below.

𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼

Use the Weed Killer sample you got from the local farmers on the vines

That’s it!

A lightbulb suddenly turned on in your head, and you fished for something inside your trusty waist bag.

During your excursion, the local farmers showed you their latest technology in getting rid of pesky weeds—WEED KILLER X! You saw it for yourself, how the chemical instantly killed those weeds! The kind farmers even gave you a sample!

You finally found what you were looking for! The purple liquid swirled inside the small bottle. You didn’t know how well it’d work against literal living vines, though.

“Alright, let’s test this out...”

You sprinkled a few drops on a nearby vine.

Ssssst...!

You were shocked at the result. The vine started erupting in smoke as the scattered sprinkles made tiny holes on it like a corrosive poison.

“It worked!”

Especially well, too!

“...!”

Even the ashen-haired guy, who refused your help, stared at the burning vine with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Okay! I’m going to get you out soon! Take this!”

Then, you swung your hand, throwing the open bottle at the captive guy. It was safe for humans, by the way.

“Wai—!”

He was about to say something, but reflexively shut his eyes and mouth.

Splash!

Cssstttt...!! Cssst...!!

You made the right choice!

Soon, the vines entangling his body slowly melted away!

“That’s the power of science for you! Those pesky vines don’t stand a chance!”

“Cough, cough!” the vine around his neck came loose, and the man gasped for breath. Then, he turned to look at you. “What have you done?!”

A pair of amethyst eyes with cyan and pink tints glowered at you.

...Not even a thanks?

“W-what? I was trying to help!” you were taken aback.

Even as you spoke, the vines were still being eaten away by the herbicide.

“Unless you strike the core, this type of monster will only keep regrowing!”

Csst...! Zzzt, zzzt, snap!

Then, you saw it for yourself.

The vine that bound his upper torso, which had almost completely melted, suddenly regrew! Another vine sprouted from its burnt tip—no, scratch that—two more vines. The same happened to the rest of corroded vines.

Soon, the vines had doubled from their original amount, meaning the man's restraints were now twice as many.

“...”

You stared at the man, unable to say a word.

“...”

He stared back at you, nursing quiet anger.

“...At least, you can now breathe easily?”

Hey, silver lining. You definitely weren’t trying to alleviate your guilt or anything.

“...Do you have more of that chemical you used earlier?”

“Uh, no.”

It was just a sample, after all.

“...”

“...”

The two of you continued staring at each other in silence, but then...

“Ah!”

Something happened to the man.

POV: Moze

Moze didn’t feel it at first.

However, before he knew it, some of the vines had crept inside his clothes. Since they were newly-regenerated, both the vines and their thorns were thinner. As they crawled on his skin, innumerable, brush-like thorns pricked him. Not enough to draw blood, but left prickly itchiness behind.

“Ugh... ah...”

With at least a few dozens or so of such vines writhing around his body, the tingling sensation was simply unbearable, his body started wriggling on its own. A vine trailed painfully slowly down his back. Another roamed around his chest, which he felt the most for some reason.

“Mmph—!”

And when it decided to coil around his right nipple, embedding its thorns all around, it took his everything not to scream. No, especially with someone else present. Otherwise, what would remain of his pride as a Shadow Guard? Ironically, he held on to the very vines that shackled him just to suppress his voice.

Soon, he felt the same sharp, stinging sensation on the left tip of his chest, and no amount of restraints could stop him from arching forward, standing on his tiptoe. As a result, some of the vines dug even deeper than before, ripping his clothes.

“A-are you okay?!”

That scream snapped him back to reality.

“...”

The girl stared worriedly at him. ...Even though she exacerbated everything. If not for that look on her face, he’d have suspected that she was behind this trap.

“Let me think of something! Maybe I can—”

“—No, don’t do anything!”

Moze interrupted amidst the numbness that pervaded his whole body.

Seeing that she was eager to “help” again plain terrified him. He only had ominous feelings about it, and perhaps that girl sensed it too.

That look again.

Her look of worry, mixed with guilt and helplessness, seemed to prick him way harder than all the thorny tendrils around his body.

Even though assuaging others should be on the bottom of his priority list right now, he found himself saying:

“...My satchel must’ve fallen around there. There should be a green potion inside. Can you fetch it for me?”

“Of course!”

The girl perked up instantly, no longer looking like a kicked puppy. She immediately searched her surroundings.

Still not fully understanding why he asked her that, Moze went quiet. As soon as she returned with the healing potion, he’d be able to break free. Until then, he only had to endure this tingling, prickling sensation—

—Snap!

As soon as he thought that, multiple vines swung toward him all at once!

You noticed a black satchel lying on the grass nearby.

“This must be it—”

“—Argh!!”

“Huh!?”

Hearing a familiar voice made you rush back. Of course, you didn’t forget the black satchel.

Upon arriving, a much more ferocious scene awaited you.

The ashen-haired man, now restrained with more vines than ever, was being whipped by other vines left and right! His clothes were also torn, so the thorny vines hit his bare flesh, leaving red stripes.

When you were too shocked to do anything, the man spotted you and screamed.

“Quick! Hand me the green—khhk!”

The last part was inaudible because a vine slid into his mouth.

“Mmgghk! Ggghk!”

The man attempted to spit it out. Try as he might, the vine only entwined his tongue even tightly, and strings of saliva trickled down his mouth. Amidst all that, he was still trying to signal you with his eyes.

R-right! The potion! The green one, right?!

You fumbled with the black satchel, finding three vials of potions inside.

But there was one problem.

They were all green.

To be fair, the one in the prism-shaped vial was yellowish green, the one in the round-shaped vial bluish green, and the one in the cylinder-shaped vial was orangish green.

“Which one is it—?!”

You waved the vials in front of him. You raised the first one: the round-shaped potion.

“Is this the one?!”

The man shook his head—wait, was he nodding?

Huh? Is that a “yes” or a “no”? Wait, the vine forced his head back...

You tried the same with the second potion, and then the third one. Same result. He was cocking his head a lot. Not that you could blame him. Still...

“WHICH IS IT—?!”

Without stopping, the vines ruthlessly whipped him. Some of the stripes even began to bleed. You couldn’t leave him like this. You needed to make a decision.

Buy me coffee ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽

[willgoldgirlie]

why do ex wilbur stans say everything wilbur did was with malicious intent. ‘HE WAS JUST COPYING FROM LOS CAMPESINOS!’ ‘HE WAS MEAN TO TOMMY ON PURPOSE TO SHOW HOW MUCH BIGGER AND STRONGER HE WAS!’ ‘HE WAS JUST GROOMING TOMMY!’

i’m truly convinced you guys don’t know what child grooming is. child grooming is, by textbook definition, “the action or behavior used to establish an emotional connection with a minor, and sometimes the child’s family, to lower the child’s inhibitions with the objective of sexual abuse.” we all know wilbur’s intention was not to sexually abuse tommy. they were good friends.

as for stealing from los campesinos!, that is just not true, and you know it. bands take inspiration from other bands all the time, and no one bats an eye, but lovejoy’s so much different? double standards, maybe?

you guys put wilbur on a pedestal, even when he said NOT TO. you guys did anyway, then found out he’s not this perfect sweet little soft boy who does no wrong, and you guys lost your shit. i find it absolutely humorous watching all of these other dsmp stans get humbled. ‘george would never!!! ❤️❤️’ then he DID. ‘punz would never!!! ❤️❤️’ then he DID. ‘quackity would never!!! ❤️❤️’ THEN HE DID.

nobody is perfect. wilbur is not any different.

you guys refuse to see any of the off putting things in shelby’s story. i want to make it clear that i DO NOT believe wilbur is 100% innocent. he’s still a raging cunt, whether or not he abused anybody. however, shelby’s story is just so… off.

why was she so angry about him not paying for HER plane tickets and HER own catsitter? why did she feel it necessary to laugh about the fact that he was depressed and burnt out? why did she get so angry about the fact that he didn’t want to go out all the time?

shelby’s frustrations about the biting are 100% valid. there is no excuse for that. but as for everything else? why?

‘he only did it for the fame and money, guys!!!’ it’s almost… like… it’s his job…

it just makes me so angry. wilbur did not do everything with ill intentions. stop acting like he did.

HOWEVER, some of you also need to stop acting like wilbur is 100% innocent. he is NOT. he’s not this perfect, innocent soft boy he made himself out to be. you can obviously enjoy him and his content, but stop acting like he didn’t do anything wrong.

[suntoru]

hello!

I'm super stressed atm, have an exam on Tuesday, and I need a bit of motivation because I really doubt myself sometimes although I'm trying very hard 😭😭

do you think you could write a short piece about one of the genshin boys (heizou, tighnari, cyno, scara, childe or one of your choice instead) comforting a reader in the same situation? if not then I totally understand (couldn't find whether or not your requests are closed so I hope I'm not bothering you) thank you so much <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ heizou + childe w/ stressed out reader!!

summary: reader is stressed out bc of exams!! what do the boys do to help?

a/n: hi luv!! basically my requests are actually closed but i decided to make an exception just this once <3 u got this, dw too much!! i hope i was able to bring u some comfort

wc: 655 words

warnings: burnt out reader, overworking, mostly comfort n fluff, maybe a bit of swearing?

─ ✰ HEIZOU

mr. smartass here does not get the definition of stressing over work istg he’s too intelligent for his own good

at first, he supports you a lot, he encourages you to do better too. he likes that you’re working hard to reach your goals <3

he does his own work beside you, so you can study together!

type to help you and tests you on the questions

however, after a couple days, he starts to notice you’re not doing so well. you’ve got bags under your eyes from skipping out on sleep to study, you’re more grumpy than normal, and you just look stressed.

that’s when he makes the connection that a), you’re overworking yourself, and b), you’re stressed about this.

to be honest, i don’t think he’s the type to directly confront you about this unless it becomes too much, he’s more of the subtle type.

he’d definitely ask if you’re okay in a lighthearted manner, but you can tell he’s serious. welp now he’s monitoring you on a daily basis

“y/n, do you wanna take a break and go get some food?” “you’re gonna do so well, don’t worry.”

but if you choose to talk to him about your worries, he’ll listen silently, only nodding his head to show he’s paying attention. he’ll wait till you’re finished until he speaks.

he pulls you into a tight hug, cradling the back of your head as he comforts you. his voice is laced with confidence and you can tell he means what he says.

“babe… i know you can do this. there’s no one i believe in more than you. you’ve worked really hard for this, and that’s all i need to know. and even if you don’t meet your expectations, i’ll still be proud. i’m here for you if you need anything, anything at all.”

makes sure you’re getting enough rest, you’re eating enough and taking breaks.

when the day of your test comes, he gives you a confident smile, and a kiss on the cheek as he winks.

“i’d say good luck, but i know you’ve left nothing up to chance.”

whatever the outcome is, he takes you on a date after <3

overall 7/10

─ ✰ CHILDE

…run.

bro does not understand the term ‘busy’. he thinks your attention should always be on him.

worst study buddy 😭 type to end up distracting you instead of actually helping

ANYWAYS.

one of the first people to speak up about this, solely because you aren’t spending a lot of time with him anymore.

not slick with it either, just full on blunt.

this dramatic ahh collapses in your lap on the brink of tears, shiny puppy dog eyes staring straight into your soul.

“do you still love me anymore?”

explain to him that things exist other than him

please do tell him that you’re just worried and stressed though.

if you end up crying, his personality does a full 180. you’re now situated on his lap, his fingers brushing away any tears.

he feels guilty he didn’t notice sooner, he cups your face gently.

“hey, hey… i’m sorry. i didn’t realize this was so important to you… i’ll help you study, okay? for real this time.”

to the best of his ability, he helps explain concepts and showers you with praise if you answer correctly.

makes you flash cards with cute doodles (mostly him)

on the day of your exam, he picks you up and twirls you around.

peppers kisses all over your face.

“my scrunkly baby, you’re gonna do so well!! my smart precious clever genius… i might not be there with you, but take my luck!! well, not like you need it <3”

whispers in your ear before you go:

“…and don’t forget… a mark on a piece of paper doesn’t define you.”

takes you shopping and buys you whatever you want after, super clingy for the next couple of days

4/10 but he’s trying

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[okkalo]

Okie! If requests are still open, I'd like to see what you think of this scenario:

Beach vacay, reader gets a sunburn (can be mild or lobster-y)

How would Ryusei, Reo, and Kunigami help their bbg?

Thank you!

Ps, I LOVED the "ily" hc you posted! They were very cute 😍

hi again! i’m glad u enjoyed the other request! and thank u for another req 🤭 this one hit close to home bc i literally just got a sunburn the other day but anyways i hope u enjoy!!

warnings: reader is suggested to be a girl in reo’s

characters: shidou, reo, kunigami

shidou

- ABSOLUTELY laughs at you.

- and just know that if you get on his nerves he will smack your sunburnt part

- might feel bad depending on how you react

- brags about how he doesn’t burn and only tans after laughing at you

- i would say tell him to shut up or something but once again he will smack your burn

- once he actually sees you upset he will start to care a little bit

- doesn’t really help with the burn though, he just treats you nicer

shidou had just gotten out of the shower, hair damp and towel around his naked waist, when he saw you wincing and breathing out a small ‘ow’ while putting on aloe. his carefree stroll immediately stopped while his posture slumped, his cocky face turning more serious at the sight. he gave another sigh as you winced once again at the pain before walking up to sit in the space next to you.

a small smirk decorated his lips at the glare you send his way, expecting him to start adding more salt to your wound. “hey, hey, i’m not gonna do nothin’. my baby’s in pain and i gotta make em’ feel better.” he spoke with a suave voice, snaking an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to place a gentle kiss on your neck. as much as you hated to admit, a few kisses from him definitely did make you feel better.

after a few more kisses from him you decided to end it there, your eyes roaming to his still naked lower body. you sighed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before pushing him away, turning your attention back to your bowl of aloe vera. “go put your pants on, ryu.” he huffed, not wanting to follow someone else’s orders, going straight back in for your neck to pepper some rough kisses on your burnt skin. good luck with that.

reo

- he makes sure to keep your skin protected at all costs

- buys you expensive sunscreen and always tries to bring some source of shade because he doesn’t want you burning

- but it just so happened that you guys had been a part from each other when you got the burn

- when you walk in to your shared place with reo he just sighed, dropping everything he was doing to go get aloe

- scolds you while making you sit on the bathroom counter with him rubbing aloe into your skin

“this is why i should’ve gone with you,” he sighed, scooping up a clump of aloe before gently rubbing it on your thigh, his face in a focused frown. you remember him whining about how he wanted to go with you. you knew the real reason he wanted to go with you was to see you in a bathing suit and get to put sunscreen on your bare skin.

“it would’ve been weird if you had gone.” you sighed right back, tired of his complaining. “you would’ve been the only guy, weirdo.” you stated, watching his brows furrow as he raised his head to look at you with an offended face.

“i can be one of the girls!” he exclaimed, drawing a laugh out of you. you could only rake your fingers through his hair before patting his head. he sighed at the lack of response, eyes dropping once again to focus on your burnt leg. he would come up with another complaint in the next five seconds.

kunigami

- would probably be a worrier like reo except less extreme

- he would always try to put sunscreen on you when you were out in the sun that day

- he gets distracted that day, however, meaning he didn’t get the chance to remind you to put on the protectant

- feels HORRIBLE once he checks back in on you and sees you burnt

- immediately takes you home, occasionally cussing under his breath on the way home for his lack of notice

- starts a cold shower for you

“i should’ve remembered,” he mutters under his breath as he turns shower knob, water immediately following afterwards. he’s been like this for the past ten minutes, constantly muttering something new that he should’ve done.

“ren, love, it’s okay. the burn isn’t even that bad, babe. besides, i should’ve been the one to remember, so stop blaming yourself.” you finally sighed out, voice soft as you tried to comfort him by rubbing his arm. he turned over to you, face still in a frown as he saw your reddened state.

“it’s my job to remember, but i’ll stop.” he let out a deep sigh, bending down to pull you into an embrace. one hand wrapped around your back to rest on your waist while the other rubbed your upper back. “go ahead and get in, i’ll join in a few.” he said after a moment of silence, placing a small kiss your shoulder before pulling away from your arms. you made sure to give his arm an extra squeeze, a reassurance that it was okay, before he walked off.

unedited thanks for reading!

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there���s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,” he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

[sunnydayroleplay]

PLEASE PLEASE I BEG OF YOU I NEED YOU TO WRITE SOME SHAUN COMFORT IT COULD BE ANYTHING I JUST NEED MY CATBOY TO COMFORT MEEEEEEEEE Thank you and have a good day!

Alright alright! You’ll get your daily Shaun needs! Not my fault that everyone lives, laughs, and loves Joseh and Jack!

I agree, he needs more lovin’!! Shaun comfort it is~

Contents Inside: Cuddles, Bathtime with Shaun, Attempts at making dessert..

18- DNI, even though this is a SFW post, the game it is based off of is an 18+ community. It is for your own safety, and you interacting not only jeopardizes that, it jeopardizes mine, and the creators of the games. For SFW + 18- safe content, check out my art page instead. @feralhalfnhalfcreamer

———————————————————

Hypothetically, right now you are in desperate need for some comfort.

You’re sad, upset, you need a big strong man that has a soft sweet cat that is in the mood to do just that!

You’re huddled up in your bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, trying your best not to burst out.

Moonpie makes her way onto your bed and rubs her face onto yours, making her way through the opening of your arms.

She dips her head and blinks slowly at you, purring softly before she balls up right by your head.

You put down your phone and pat her soft fur, feeling slightly better.

Shaun comes into the room after going grocery shopping a few minutes later

“I’m back! I’ll make sure to put them away-“

Shaun immediately notices your mood change, and rushes up right beside you.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m okay Shaun..don’t worry-“

“Ah, ah,ah! Don’t you tell me not to worry about you! I know when somethin’s up. Who did it?”

“No one did anything, I’m just..not in a good mood.”

“Would some of my love help?~”

“Ehe, always.”

Shaun laid down beside you, and pulled you in close to him.

He brushed off hair that was covering your face, so that he could actually see it.

A hand grazed your cheek, and the other patted Moonpie’s perfectly smooth head.

You let out a deep sigh and buried your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Shaun let out a giggle.

“Why aren’t you cute~”

“I’m always cute!”

“That you are.”

“Mow!”

Moonpie seems to agree.

The two of you stayed like this for a good while.

Shaun massaged your shoulders, and gently caressed your neck.

He kissed you every time you asked for a kiss.

With the occasional stupid pun.

“Hey, Y/N.. what did the sushi say to the bee-?

“What?”

“Wasabi.”

“Get out-“

“Aha! Please you can’t tell me that wasn’t good!”

“That was terrible Shaun! Terrible!!”

You share a laugh with him, even though he made shitty puns, your shitty mood got better.

You felt so much relief, and joy whenever you were with him.

He was always so nice, and he was always there for your own needs.

He made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

After he cheered you up, he took you out of the gloomy room and decided that it was a fine time to bake.

“Shaun, do you even know how to make cupcakes?”

“I guess we’ll find out!”

“And I guess I should have 911 on speed dial-“

“C’mon, have some faith in me honey-“

“Don’t honey me- At least follow a recipe!”

“I do have a recipe, thank you very much.”

“From what?”

“Let’s bake!”

“Jesus Christ.”

It started off surprisingly well.

Started off..

It only got worse.

The measurements were wrong.

The bowl was either too big or small.

The stand mixer probably caught fire, it smells smokey.

With all of this in mind, you guys’ somehow got something in the oven.

“Bake at 350, Shaun. 350.”

“I know, I know! 350.”

“That’s 450.”

After about 20 minutes pass, or however long it takes cupcakes to bake- you take them out the oven.

They’re burnt yet..raw??

They’re soggy when you eat it, but it’s crunchy?

Can you even legally classify them as cupcakes anymore?

Whatever they are, it’s getting composted.

And you two definitely need a bath.

Shaun shook out at least a cup of flour from his hair, and you probably have egg shells in yours.

At least you guys had fun.

“I think we should take a bath, and then clean up-“

“You think? Silly.”

Shaun rushes over to the bathroom to turn on the faucet and get it to temperature.

You get undressed and wrap your towel aroujs you, holding a few others.

Shaun pours a generous amount of soap underneath the running water.

“That is one bubbly bath.”

“It is a very bubbly bath.”

Soon enough you slip off the towel, and slip inside the bath.

Shaun comes in immediately after.

Your body begins to relax in the warm, warm water.

Shaun pours some water over your head, and grabs your shampoo, making sure to get a lot.

He works it through your roots to the tips of your hair, making sure all that gunk was out.

You couldn’t feel more relaxed and happy.

You flutter your eyes closed as he began washing the soap out of your hair, and work in conditioner.

Once getting squeaky clean was done, you accidentally splash Shaun trying to get up.

In return, he splashes you back.

“Hey! That was an accident!”

“Annnd?”

“Ugh, you’re such a jerk-!”

You had fun.

You definitely felt better than before.

Shaun always knew how to cheer you up, even though you “seemingly” hated it.

You don’t hate it, you love it more than anything.

You love that he’s this big, tough guy sometimes, but in reality he’s just a softie with a big heart.

And that softie with a big heart is always willing to make your day.

[dwarrowdelf]

o my brother

Seven drabbles for @maedhrosmaglorweek which I’m definitely not two entire weeks late for 😅 You can also read them on AO3 with any relevant author’s notes, but I’m posting them there in batches.

one: childhood/growing up

Of the brothers, Maedhros and Maglor were closest in age. They spent nearly their entire childhoods as a family of four, roaming the cultivated wildlands of Aman. Tirion upheld them as darlings, once the crown prince returned to the city: bright-haired, quick-witted Maitimo and sweet-voiced, silver-tongued Macalaurë, ever together. Two shining jewels to adorn any debate parlor, concert hall, or royal party. There were the other brilliant princes, and of course the beloved princesses, but the eldest house was ever the most brilliant and most beloved by the Noldor, in the days before Morgoth spread his discord to peaceful Valinor.

two: the oath

Maglor had not, as many suspected in later years, helped to craft the oath. Fëanor was a great orator and wordsmith in his own right without his second son’s help.

Their father had stood in the square under the Mindon and spoken his oath fiercely and without forethought. And what a rousing oath it was! The younger sons had been quick to follow. Maglor had looked to Maedhros and found him already looking back. Neither of them had wanted to swear it, but they had agreed, with that look, not to abandon their little brothers.

Funny how that worked out.

three: the long peace

“I cannot believe the audacity of that boy!”

“‘That boy’ is the Lord of Nargothrond,” Maedhros says, amused.

Maglor whirls on him, finger pointed in a hilarious mirror of their mother at her most high tempered. “He’s our little shit of a cousin who abandoned us on a hunting trip that he planned and then found the Secondborn! Without us! No, don’t look at me in that tone of voice, I’m very cross!”

Maedhros’s tremulous hold on his expression cracks, and he breaks into laughter. Maglor smiles to himself, relieved to see the tension finally slipping from his brother’s shoulders.

four: nirnaeth arnoediad, reputation

Maedhros’s well-earned reputation precedes him. Orcs would sooner run than face him, fearsome as he is; even trolls and wargs are wary.

Maglor’s reputation precedes him too, carefully crafted. The kind brother, the soft brother, nevermind that softness alone could never hold the least defensible line of the leaguer. But it is good to be underestimated, good to let everyone forget that he was the one Maedhros trained against when relearning the sword.

That soft reputation is why Ulfang’s eyes are wide with shock in the head that Maglor cleaves from his body for the crime of betraying his brother.

five: change and loss of self

Being burnt by the Silmaril did not break Maglor as it broke his brother, though losing him nearly did. What broke Maglor, in the end, was realizing that the burn would never heal such that he could play any two-handed instrument again.

He contemplated, then, following in the footsteps of his brother or grandmother.

But many years ago, when Maedhros still could not leave his sickbed, they had picked apart the Oath. It seemed fit to kill them all, but they thought if just one of them lived, perhaps the rest might have a chance, however small.

So Maglor lives.

six: alienation and isolation, AUs and fix-its

Maglor dreams, sometimes: a voice telling him it is time to come home. His mother telling him not to stay out too late, his father calling that dinner is ready. Maedhros as he had been, slinging an arm around his shoulders and telling him he’s done enough and to stop hiding in his room before they all forget what he looks like.

Sometimes he wakes up after those dreams at dawn or dusk, and a red-orange sky tricks him a moment longer.

He confesses all of this to a stranger near Mithlond, and finds himself on a boat sailing West.

seven: fate

Maglor never came to the timeless halls, and Maedhros feared. The only tapestry he could find of his brother was a vast stretch of shore with one figure, alone, walking. Anyone who might have news, he asked.

Lost, faded, disappeared, they all said, some even with pity.

Maedhros reembodies last of his brothers, and there, there is Maglor. Maedhros folds himself without thought into supplication older than Valinor, begs forgiveness from the one he most wronged.

Two scarred hands deign to cradle his face. “There is no need. Only do not leave me again, I beg you.”

“Never,” Maedhros swears.

[blues824]

Do you think you can do obey me brothers with mc/reader/s/o who’s like SCP 166 Just a Teenage Gaea?

Y’all, I’ve been posting requests left and right, but I think I’m becoming burnt out.

Lucifer

He thinks you look absolutely divine, and you technically are. However, he’s devastated that you have to go through so many health issues. Most of the time, you are bedridden because of the terrible air quality of the Devildom. He will stay by your side as long as you want him to.

Because you can’t see Father David, Lucifer allows Simeon and Luke to come in and talk to you and act as a ‘Father’. Can’t get much closer to Him than his archangel, can you? However, he lets you know that with your rosary beads, he can’t come close because the necklace offers a spiritual ‘force field’ of sorts.

In the HoL, because of your dietary restrictions, the food in the pantry has been changed to all organic ingredients. Even if it sat for just 5 minutes in a factory, it’s being chucked out the window. Everyone is upset at this new change, but this guy will throw hands with anyone who shames you for it.

If you want to go out of the house, he will help you put on an oxygen mask and will carry you outside. Not only does he want you to be able to experience all of what the Devildom has to offer, he also loves keeping you close to him.

Mammon

The literal definition of a simp. He would give you the very clothes off his back if you so desired. He would never admit it though. He would totally stay by your side whenever you find yourself too weak to leave your bed.

He gets jealous whenever he sees Lucifer let the two angels into your room. He’s your first and your protector, he should be in there with you! But your rosary beads create a forcefield only the residents of Purgatory Hall can go into.

He does get a bit annoyed about having only organic foods inside the house, but he understands that you could possibly die if any inorganic or processed food was consumed by you. He will volunteer to make all of your food so that he would be the one to feed you.

He would totally give you a piggyback ride if you wanted to spend some time outside. However, since the air quality isn’t the best in the Devildom, you have to wear an oxygen mask that delivers purified air. Other than that, he feels like he’s finally doing something for you. 

Leviathan

First time he saw you, he almost died because he was blushing so hard. You were just so beautiful and you looked so innocent. Your soul was as pure as your disposition. However, it all comes at the cost of your physical health. He would essentially move into your room so that you could hang out more often.

If you thought Mammon was jealous whenever he was ushered out of your room, Levi was that tenfold. He would be sitting in his room sulking until Simeon came in and said that your weekly service was completed. Then, he would go straight to your room.

I wouldn’t say he gets annoyed, but it is a tad bit of a problem to change the recipe of whatever he’s making to accommodate your organic diet. Luckily, there are a few shops that offer authentic ingredients so the food he makes is actually quite delicious.

He doesn’t want to go outside, but he wants to stick by you so he will also give you a piggyback ride if you want to go out of the house every once in a while. He could take you to his favorite shops in person and he will most likely want to get you something but you have to remind him that you can’t really touch anything factory made. He’s sad that he can’t spoil you a lot, but he will make sure you feel loved in a different way.

Satan

He thought you were a fairy of some variant at first with your horns and delicate demeanor. He eventually learned about your parentage and understood. He would also stay by your side and read to you whenever you feel at your worst so that you could get your mind off the pain.

He honors your wishes of having services every Sunday, so he will excuse himself as the angels make their way into your room. He tries to listen in, but the rosary beads you have prevent him from doing that. He understands being dedicated to something, so he will just leave you be.

He’s not angry about substituting the food in the pantry for organic stuff. In fact, I think he enjoys it more since studies show that eating healthier leads to being happier. He will volunteer to make your food because he already has a few organic eating cookbooks.

He does enjoy going outside to walk to his favorite bookstore. On the days where you feel okay enough to get out of bed, he will carry you everywhere you desire to go. He’s a demon, so you weigh almost nothing to him. He enjoys the intimacy behind it, with you wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself. He feels sad whenever he sees your oxygen mask, but better safe than sorry.

Asmodeus

Oh my goodness you look so beautiful, Y/N! And adorable! He will coo over your horns and hooves because he thinks you look just like a little deer. He would definitely stay next to you by your bed whenever you feel weak because he doesn’t want you to be alone.

He’s sad that Simeon and Luke get your attention for an hour every Sunday and he’s not allowed inside. Not just on Lucifer’s orders, but also the rosary beads cast protection over the room. He just sits and sulks until Simeon comes in and tells him that the ‘service’ is over.

He is most definitely on-board with changing out the foods in the pantry. Eating organic has many health benefits, and it’s a trending diet! He will gladly make you some food because he wants to spend more time with you.

He would love giving you piggyback rides on the days where you desire to go outside. He would take you around the farmers markets and organic shops to buy you the things that catch your eye. Say it and it’s yours!

Beelzebub

When he experiences your kind soul, he melts. He is a huge pushover. But, he is sad that you can’t spend a lot of time out of bed due to your condition. That being said, he loves spending his time just talking to you by your bedside. 

He’s indifferent towards the weekly services. He understands your dedication to your faith, so he doesn’t sulk or anything. He waits patiently for you to be done, and often gets you some snacks for you both to enjoy after.

Speaking of snacks, he doesn’t care if he has to replace all the food in the house. He just wants to eat. Chances are, the food that was leftover goes to him for him to devour immediately. He will look up a bunch of different recipes so he can make you some delicious food.

He’s down for either piggyback rides or carrying you around while he brings you outside. Like the others, he wants you to experience what the Devildom has to offer. He would take you to a few restaurants that had a healthy menu.

Belphegor

He does think you are beautiful and kind. He will stay by your side and try to help you get sleep so that you can sleep through the pain. He feels sorry that someone as innocent as you has to suffer through so much.

He’s also indifferent towards the weekly services. You would think that he gets jealous, but he doesn’t. He uses it to rest so that he can continue using his powers to make sure you get enough rest.each night.

He doesn’t particularly like cooking, but he doesn’t mind the inorganic diet that Lucifer is putting everyone on. In fact, he has gotten better sleep because of it. If it’s his turn to cook, then he will save a portion for you so that Beel doesn’t eat it.

He doesn’t like going outside either, so he won’t be carrying you anywhere. If Beel takes you somewhere, that is when he will accompany the two of you. It’s nothing personal, Y/N… he’s just one tired demon.

[chaoticm0therfvcker]

A Golden Halloween (CRK modern AU)

Summary: it’s Halloween at the Golden Cheese household, and things are a bit chaotic, due to a new addition to the family. Despite all the chaos and frustration, that doesn’t stop an adorable moment from taking place

A/N: in the modern au of a friend of mine, there’s a hc that golden cheese is ace/aro. Based on the other characters from the golden cheese update, I headcanon that golden cheese adopted burnt cheese, mozzarella, and fettuccine. Hope you enjoy!

Being a mother was hard.

Especially being the mother of three adopted kids, two of which have been in the system long enough to have some serious emotional baggage. Nonetheless, Golden Cheese was willing to do what she could to take care of these kids.

It was the night of Halloween, a time of excitement and costumes and candy and lots of spooky fun. Golden Cheese had been through it for several years, but this year was a bit different. It was different because about a year ago, Golden Cheese adopted her youngest daughter; Fettuccine.

Fettuccine’s adoption was a little bit different than Golden’s other children, Burnt Cheese and Mozzarella. While Burnt Cheese and Mozzarella were already emotionally damaged teenagers by the time they were adopted, they had a relatively easy time warming up to Golden Cheese as soon as they saw how much she cared for them, including how much money she was willing to invest into their food, clothing, and hobbies.

Fettuccine however, was different.

She was such a timid little girl, hiding behind just about anyone taller than her and only saying a few words at a time. When Golden Cheese met her for the first time, she could see that she was very isolated, struggling with social situations. Messy yellow hair was tied into pigtails with orange and green bows, and her arms and hands sported a mess of bandages and medical tape. While Golden filled out the paperwork to take her home, the social worker explained Fettuccine’s situation.

“I’m not sure what she went through before she got here, but it was definitely not safe for a little kid,” the social worker explained, “poor kid was so small for her age, and would hide wherever she could. In cabinets, behind couches, and if she couldn’t find a place to hide, she would resort to kicking, scratching and crying. She hates having her hair brushed, and she’s pretty accident prone from how quickly she dives into hiding spots.”

“I promise I’ll do whatever I can to take care of her,” Golden Cheese replied, “I know it can be hard to deal with a situation like this.”

The first six months was one of the hardest times of Golden’s motherhood. As the social worker had warned, Fettuccine cookie hid in her room a lot, and whenever Golden had to bathe her or brush her hair, Fettuccine would do whatever she could to defend herself, whether that was scratching, screaming, kicking, or even the occasional bite.

Luckily, Fettuccine started to slightly warm up to Golden Cheese, and as she grew more attached, one of Fettuccine’s favorite hiding spots was underneath Golden’s shirt.

Once Fettuccine warmed up to Golden Cheese, she was surprisingly quick to warm up to Burnt Cheese and Mozzarella as well. However, communication was still an issue. Despite her age, Fettuccine only knew a couple of words and short phrases, her favorite ones being “scared” and “I want snack”.

And now, this was an exciting day for her, as it was her very first Halloween. She was dressed up as a cute little mummy, and Golden Cheese was dressed up as a goddess from a video game she played often, ready to take Fettuccine trick or treating.

Currently, they were in front of a nearby house where several kids were walking up to collect candy to add to their stash.

Once they had walked up the driveway together, Golden Cheese knelt down to face Fettuccine cookie, putting a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Okay kiddo, you’re gonna knock on the door and yell ‘trick or treat’. After a minute, someone should open the door and give you candy. They might ask you what your costume is, and if they do you’re gonna say ‘I’m a mummy’ okay?”

Fettuccine nodded and smiled, clutching her little plastic jack-o-lantern. “Okay mommy.”

Fettuccine padded up to the door and knocked on it with her tiny fist, yelling “Trick or treat!” As loudly as she could. Soon after, the door opened, and an older lady answered the door.

“Hey there kiddo,” she started, “what are you dressed up as?”

“I’m a mummy!” Fettuccine announced excitedly. After a moment, her smile faded. “You… scared?”

The woman chuckled lightheartedly. “Not at all! Your costume is just the cutest. Here, take as much candy as you want.” Offering the bowl to Fettuccine.

Fettuccine’s eyes lit up with excitement and she took two fistfuls of candy, dumping them into her little plastic jack-o-lantern. “Thank you!”

“Have a good night, happy Halloween!” The woman replied, waving goodbye to Golden Cheese and Fettuccine.

After that, Golden and Fettuccine visited as many houses in the neighborhood as they could, Fettuccine excitedly accepting candy from each house until her legs grew tired. By the end of their little adventure, Fettuccine had collected a mountain of candy, so much so that Golden Cheese had to put some in the extra bag she brought in case Fettuccine ran out of room in her bucket.

Once they had returned home, Fettuccine was very proud of her earnings from the night, and Golden Cheese couldn’t be prouder of how brave her daughter was that night, interacting with so many people and learning new phrases she had never used previously.

For the rest of the night, Fettuccine, Golden Cheese, Burnt Cheese, and Mozzarella all sat together in the living room, eating candy and watching the Halloween specials from all of Fettuccine’s favorite cartoons until Fettuccine drifted off to sleep in Golden’s lap. In that moment, Golden knew that despite all the obstacles that she had faced while taking care of Fettuccine, it was all worth the struggle, and she couldn’t wait to see what was to come of this little family of hers.

Taglist: @janayuga @katsunemillennium