#its such a random thing i though of and had to draw it but i wasnt at my pc at that time

[seafarersdream]

Scaly Tales | Modern AU! (Aemond Targaryen x Y/N)

Y/N works at her dad’s reptile shop, but only because he’s currently out of town. She, on the other hand, is stuck with snakes, lizards, and things that make her skin crawl. To be clear: she hates reptiles. They terrify her. One day, in strolls Aemond Targaryen — tall, brooding, and way too attractive for someone who’s genuinely interested in a green iguana named Vhagar. Word count: 4,1k

TW // Strong language and profanities, mild innuendos, potentially dangerous animal encounters, alcohol consumption (beer).

“I swear to god, if that thing comes anywhere near me, I'm quitting my own dad's shop.”

Y/N muttered to herself, fingers clutching the edge of the glass counter as if it might somehow protect her from the green menace that stared at her from across the room.

Vhagar, the reptile shop’s resident iguana, was perched regally on her branch like she owned the place. Which, honestly, she probably did. The shop, Scaly Tales, was a low-key nightmare of flicking tongues, beady eyes, and the occasional hiss that sent shivers down her spine. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with an irritating hum, casting a sickly yellow glow over the rows of terrariums lining the walls.

Y/N tapped her foot impatiently, glancing at the clock. Another five hours until closing. Five hours of trying not to look too closely at the boa constrictor named Smaug or the tarantula in the corner that she swore was plotting her demise.

Just as she was contemplating the merits of accidentally leaving the door unlocked and letting all the reptiles escape into the wild, the bell over the door jingled. She looked up, more out of instinct than interest, and nearly choked on her own breath.

In walked a guy who looked like he’d been carved out of marble and decided to slum it on a random Wednesday afternoon. Tall, lean, with silvery-blonde hair that was braided. He had a scar running down his left cheek that made him look like he’d survived a pirate raid or, at the very least, a really bad skateboarding accident. He was dressed in all black and had a single silver earring shaped like a tiny dragon.

Y/N blinked. Twice.

“Uh, can I help you?” she finally managed, voice higher-pitched than she intended.

The guy glanced around, his one visible eye narrowing as if assessing the situation. “Doubt it,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. He had a voice like whiskey over gravel, the kind that made you want to lean in closer just to catch every word.

Y/N scowled. “Right. Well, the exit’s behind you if you’re lost.”

He chuckled, low and throaty. “Nah, not lost. Just… curious.”

“About?” She crossed her arms, feeling the sharp edge of her dad’s old Scaly Tales polo shirt dig into her skin.

He didn’t answer right away, instead, his gaze drifted past her to Vhagar, who was still sitting on her branch, blinking slowly as if she couldn’t give less of a shit about the entire interaction. “That iguana,” the guy finally said, pointing with a finger adorned with silver rings. “What’s its name?”

Y/N’s arched an eyebrow in confusion but answered anyway. “Her name’s Vhagar”

The guy’s smirk grew. “Curious choice.”

“Don’t ask. I wasn’t the one who named her,” she said, drawing out the word.

He took a step closer to the counter, and for a moment, Y/N’s heart did a weird little jump, like it was trying to hop out of her chest. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were looking for help around here.”

“Help?” She snorted. “Mate, you do realize this is a reptile shop, right? It’s no Canary Wharf.”

His grin widened, and he leaned against the counter, one hand casually slipping into the pocket of what clearly looks like a bespoke trousers. “Yeah, I got that. I’m not here for the pay. Just… interested.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Interested in what exactly? Because, no offense, you don’t look like the type who’s into snakes and lizards.”

He shrugged, a movement that seemed annoyingly graceful. “You got me there. Not into snakes. But I’ve got a thing for iguanas.”

She let out a laugh before she could stop herself. “Of course, you do. Why?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering her with that one piercing blue eye that looks unnervingly purple-ish from some angles. “I like that they’re a bit… prickly. Takes a certain kind of patience to handle them. To make them trust you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she hadn’t done her hair this morning and was probably wearing yesterday's eyeliner smudges. “Alright, fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You can… I don’t know, volunteer or something. Just don’t get bitten or sue us, yeah?”

He straightened up, looking genuinely pleased for the first time since he walked in. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand.

She eyed his hand like it was a venomous snake. “Name?”

“Aemond,” he replied, his smile turning a little softer, almost boyish. “Aemond Targaryen.”

She stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sheer poshness of it. “Of course, it is.”

He chuckled again. “And you are?”

“Y/N L/N,” she said, shaking his hand reluctantly. His grip was firm, his skin cool against hers. She quickly pulled away, trying not to feel like a teenager meeting their crush for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly. “Now, tell me… how do I win over Vhagar?”

She snorted. “Mate, I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks. Good luck.”

He glanced back at the iguana, who was still watching them with what could only be described as supreme indifference. “Challenge accepted.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Yeah, alright, Mr. Targaryen. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

As it turns out, Aemond was a bloody animal whisperer.

Y/N watched, slack-jawed and barely breathing, as he casually stuck his hand into Smaug’s terrarium — Smaug, the fifteen-foot boa constrictor with a temper that could put any football hooligan to shame. The snake, instead of latching onto Aemond’s arm and turning him into a human-sized chew toy, just… rested its head in his hand like a sodding pet cat.

“Oh, come on,” Y/N muttered under her breath, feeling a mixture of disbelief and, okay, maybe a bit of annoyance. "Seriously?"

Aemond glanced over his shoulder, that ever-present smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Something wrong?" he asked, and there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, loads,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Starting with the fact that you seem to have some weird Snow White powers over these things.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that somehow made her stomach flip. “It’s not that hard,” he said, still scratching Smaug’s head with his fingers. “You just have to understand them. Respect them.”

Y/N scoffed. “Respect them? Right. And what, exactly, do I need to respect about the tarantula that tried to jump at my face this morning?”

Aemond straightened up, moving away from the terrarium, and headed toward the tarantula’s glass enclosure. “Arachne?” he asked, his tone teasing. “She’s just misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” Y/N echoed, incredulous. “Mate, she’s got eight legs and hairy fangs. She’s the stuff of nightmares.”

Aemond turned to face her fully, leaning against the counter with a look that said he was enjoying this far too much. “You don’t really like being here, do you?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly as if studying her.

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck. She shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m not here by choice, alright?” she confessed. “My dad owns the shop, and he’s off gallivanting in Glasgow, so I’m stuck running this freak show until he gets back.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah, so you’re just here to keep the peace?”

“Something like that,” she muttered. “If peace is what you call feeding dead mice to snakes and hoping they don’t escape in the night.”

He laughed again, a real laugh this time, not just a smirk or a chuckle, and Y/N found herself almost… liking the sound of it. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said, a hint of softness in his voice. “They won’t bite unless they’re scared. And they’re only scared if you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she grumbled, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Aemond pushed off the counter and walked slowly towards her, his steps measured and confident. “Tell you what,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, like he was sharing a secret. “I’ll handle the scary ones. You just… look cute behind the counter.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, and she felt her face go warm. “Oi!” she sputtered. “I am not… cute. I’m the manager here.”

He grinned, clearly delighted with her flustered reaction. “Right, of course. Very professional. Your dad must be proud.”

She gave him a half-hearted glare, but she couldn’t deny that there was something oddly charming about the way he was looking at her, like he found her reaction endlessly entertaining. “You know, I could just kick you out,” she threatened, trying to sound stern.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. “But then who would deal with Vhagar?” he asked, nodding towards the iguana, who had finally decided to grace them with a slight head tilt.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Fine, fine. You can stay,” she grumbled, waving a hand. “But only because Vhagar seems to like you.”

He nodded solemnly. “A wise decision, Ms. Manager.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help the grin that broke free. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too comfortable, Prince Charming. This isn’t some Disney movie.”

Aemond flashed her a grin that was all trouble. “Don’t worry, love. I think I can handle a bit of drama.”

Y/N snorted. “Trust me, mate, you have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”

He gave her a mock bow, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in ages.

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The next morning, right at 10, just as Y/N was flipping the sign on the door from “Closed” to “Open,” the bell above the door jingled. She looked up, expecting to see some bored teenager or one of the usual reptile enthusiasts, but there he was — Aemond Targaryen, in the flesh.

He strolled in like he owned the place, wearing a crisp white button-up under a dark green wool coat, the kind that probably cost more than her rent. His hair was flowing freely in a way that looked both effortless and like it required some absurdly expensive product. He had an aura about him, like he was about to walk into a high-profile board meeting rather than a slightly dingy reptile shop.

“Morning,” he greeted, flashing that infuriatingly charming grin.

Y/N squinted at him, still half-asleep and clutching her cup of coffee like it was a life raft. “You’re back,” she said flatly, as if she was stating the obvious. Which, of course, she was.

Aemond chuckled. “What, did you think I’d scare off after one day?”

She shrugged, turning back to the counter to hide her smile. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did. Not exactly Westminster around here, is it?”

“Maybe not,” he said, moving closer and glancing around, “but it’s got… character.”

Y/N snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

He didn’t seem to mind the sarcastic jab. Instead, he started rolling up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, exposing the tattoos that ran up his forearms — dragons, of course, snaking around his skin in intricate black ink. She found herself staring, just for a second too long, before snapping her eyes back up to his face.

“So,” he said casually, “what’s on the agenda today?”

Y/N shrugged again, taking a sip of her coffee. “Well, first, we’re gonna open up the store, then do all the stuff that involves keeping these creepy crawlies alive. But you—” she pointed a finger at him “—are gonna do the heavy lifting. I’m staying a safe distance away from anything that slithers, hisses, or has more legs than I do.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Sounds fair. I’ll take the snake duty, then.”

And he did. He moved with a surprising ease, lifting crates of feed and handling the cages like he’d been doing it for years. Y/N couldn’t help but be a little impressed. At one point, he was juggling a bag of crickets, a box of frozen mice, and a pail of water all at once.

“How are you not dropping any of that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He flashed her a toothy grin. “Coordination, darling. Comes with practice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small grin. He made everything look so annoyingly easy. And he had this way of making even the most mundane tasks seem… well, not fun, but bearable, at least.

After about an hour of this, she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the curiosity in her voice. “I mean, don’t you have a job or something?”

Aemond paused, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning to face her, his expression relaxed. “Nah,” he said with a casual shrug. “Don’t need one.”

Y/N blinked. “What, like, ever?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. My family’s loaded.”

“Loaded,” she repeated, not sure she’d heard him right. “Like, trust fund kid kind of loaded?”

He gave her a lazy smile, his eye glinting with amusement. “Something like that. My family's got more money than sense, if that gives you a clue.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re here, volunteering at a reptile shop, for free?”

He leaned against the counter next to her, a bit closer than was probably necessary, but she didn’t move away. “Yeah. Thought it might be fun. Plus,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I find your reactions quite entertaining.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck and cursed herself silently. “Oh, do you now?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah. Watching you flinch every time Arachne moves is becoming quite the highlight for me.”

She huffed, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I’m not flinching. I’m… being cautious. That thing’s got too many legs for comfort.”

He laughed, genuinely amused. “Right, sure. Cautious. Keep telling yourself that, love.”

She glared at him, but there was no real heat in it. “So what do you actually do all day if you’re not… you know, working?”

Aemond shrugged again, as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Oh, I read, I go to the gym, I travel… the usual.”

“The usual?” she echoed, incredulous. “Mate, that’s not usual for most people.”

He smiled again, this time with a hint of something softer behind it. “Guess I’m not most people.”

Y/N bit back a laugh. “Clearly.” She turned back to the register, trying to ignore the way her pulse sped up just a bit whenever he looked at her like that. “Alright, posh boy. You want to hang around and be useful, fine by me. But don’t get in my way.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t stop the smile that crept across her face.

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“Bloody hell, the turtle’s loose!”

Y/N’s shout echoed through the shop just as she was flipping the sign back to “Closed.” She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest, to see Aemond standing a few feet away, holding an empty glass enclosure door in his hand like it was some kind of weird prop.

“And that would be which one?” Aemond asked, his face a mix of concern and — was that amusement?

“Triton!” Y/N hissed, eyes wide as she scanned the floor. “The bloody snapping turtle!”

Aemond blinked, then burst into laughter. “The turtle?” he asked, still laughing. “How fast could it have gotten?”

Y/N shot him a death glare. “Fast enough, apparently! And he bites, remember? Like, really bites!”

As if on cue, a low, angry hiss filled the air. Y/N’s eyes darted toward the sound and spotted Triton, the shop’s resident menace of a snapping turtle, making a surprisingly speedy beeline towards the open door of the shop, his jagged shell scraping against the floor.

“Shit!” Y/N cursed, darting forward instinctively before skidding to a halt. “Okay, no, never mind, I’m not doing this. I’m not getting near that little beast.”

Aemond, still holding the glass door like some absurd shield, grinned. “Come on, it’s just a turtle.”

“Just a turtle?” Y/N shot back, her voice rising. “That thing has jaws like a bloody bear trap! I am not risking my fingers, thank you very much!”

Aemond sighed dramatically, tossing the glass door onto the counter with a loud clatter. “Alright, alright. Step aside, manager. I’ll handle this.”

He moved toward Triton, who was now hissing like a demon freshly unleashed from hell, his beady little eyes locked on Aemond’s every step. “Easy there, mate,” Aemond cooed, crouching down slightly. “We’re all friends here.”

Triton did not seem convinced. He opened his mouth wide, revealing a jagged, prehistoric maw that looked like it could snap through bone without much effort. Aemond’s smirk faltered just a bit.

“Uh, Aemond?” Y/N called out from behind the counter, where she’d taken refuge. “You do realize that thing isn’t gonna just roll over and play fetch, right?”

Aemond shot her a look over his shoulder, his smile somewhere between cocky and slightly terrified. “I’ve got this,” he replied, although he didn’t sound quite as sure as he had a moment ago.

“Famous last words,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Aemond took another step forward, inching closer to Triton, who seemed to be winding up like a spring. “Alright, Triton, just stay calm,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You don’t want to bite me. I’m not very tasty, I promise.”

Suddenly, Triton lunged, jaws snapping with a loud clack that echoed through the shop. Aemond jerked back, nearly losing his balance. “Okay, noted,” he said, his voice tight with adrenaline. “Definitely not friendly.”

Y/N, despite the panic racing through her veins, couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you! He’s like the Hannibal Lecter of turtles!”

Aemond threw her a half-exasperated, half-amused look. “Helpful, thanks.”

Y/N glanced around wildly, spotting the broom leaning against the wall. “Use the broom!” she shouted, pointing.

Aemond grabbed the broom, holding it out like a sword. “Alright, Triton, let’s do this,” he muttered, moving in cautiously. He nudged the turtle gently with the broom’s bristles, trying to coax him away from the door.

Triton hissed again, then clamped down on the broom with a force that made Aemond’s eyes widen. “Bloody hell, he’s got a grip like a vice!”

Y/N is sweating bullets now. “Told you! You’re fighting for your life out there!”

Aemond struggled to wrestle the broom free, Triton thrashing wildly at the end of it. He gave the broom one last, hard tug, finally wrenching it free from Triton’s jaws. The turtle, clearly pissed off, made a beeline straight for him.

“Plan B!” Y/N shouted, scrambling onto a chair. “What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B is… I don’t know!” Aemond shouted back, darting around the counter with surprising agility. “Distract him!”

“How the hell do you distract a turtle?” she yelled, almost hysterical.

Aemond grabbed a bag of lettuce from the shelf and tossed a handful in Triton’s direction. “Here, mate, have a snack!”

Triton paused, sniffing the air with apparent suspicion, but then began to chomp at the leaves like a small, angry lawnmower.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay, that… that actually worked?”

Aemond wiped his brow with a dramatic flourish. “See? I told you, I’ve got this.”

Y/N shook her head, half-amused, half-terrified. “Yeah, alright, Targaryen. But next time, you’re wearing armor.”

As the chaos finally settled, Y/N climbed down from her chair. She couldn’t believe they had just survived a snapping turtle attack — and that Aemond had somehow managed to make it look borderline heroic, even with a broom in hand.

She caught her breath and gave him a playful nudge. “You just saved me from a killer turtle. I guess I owe you one.”

Aemond, still holding the broom like some sort of knight who’d vanquished a beast, smirked at her. “What would you even do without me, huh?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, still a little giddy from the adrenaline. “So… do you drink beers? Or are you too posh for that? I was thinking I’d get you a couple as a thank you. Camden’s full of good pubs.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if he’d laugh or roll his eyes at the suggestion. He didn’t seem like the beer-and-pub type — more like the expensive wine in a penthouse kind of guy. But then, to her surprise, his entire face lit up.

“Beers?” he repeated, his tone a mix of intrigue and enthusiasm. “Absolutely. I could use one after that gladiator match remake with Triton.”

Y/N grinned, genuinely surprised by his enthusiasm. “Alright then, it’s settled. First round’s on me.”

Aemond didn’t argue, and together, they locked up the shop. The evening sun was just beginning to dip behind the rows of buildings in Camden, casting a warm, golden light over the bustling streets. The crowds had thinned out slightly as people finished their shopping, but the familiar hum of the city still surrounded them. Street performers were packing up, and the faint smell of food stalls lingered in the air.

They walked side by side, the rhythm of their steps in sync, heading toward one of the pubs just a short walk away. The air was cool, but not cold, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N felt relaxed. Even after a day of dealing with reptiles and rogue turtles.

“You don’t strike me as the type who hangs out in Camden much,” Y/N said, glancing up at Aemond as they walked. “Do you even go to pubs?”

Aemond grinned, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “Believe it or not, I’m not a complete hermit. I like going out — just depends on the place. Camden’s… got a vibe.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical but amused. “Oh? And what vibe is that, exactly?”

He smirked, looking around as they passed a tattoo shop, a second-hand record store, and a row of graffiti-covered buildings. “It’s raw,” he said after a moment, as if he were describing a fine wine or a work of art. “I like that. It’s not trying too hard.”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “You’re a strange one, Targaryen. Loaded, reads like a scholar, hangs out with iguanas, and now you’re telling me you’re into Camden’s ‘raw’ vibe.”

Aemond chuckled, clearly not offended. “I contain multitudes.”

She laughed, turning her gaze forward as they reached the pub. It was a cozy, unpretentious spot with a neon sign that flickered slightly above the door. They stepped inside, greeted by the warm chatter of a few patrons and the clink of glasses behind the bar.

Y/N nudged Aemond toward an empty booth in the corner. “You grab us a spot. I’ll get the drinks.”

As she made her way to the bar, she couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was leaning casually against the booth, his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely at ease in a place that seemed the polar opposite of his usual world. There was something oddly magnetic about him — not just his looks, but the way he carried himself, like he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Two pints, please,” she ordered, handing over the cash before sliding back into the booth with Aemond.

He took his pint, raising it slightly toward her. “To surviving Triton.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, laughing. “To surviving Triton,” she echoed.

They took long sips of their beers, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying the warmth of the pub and the fading light outside. Y/N leaned back, looking at him curiously. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, “you’re not what I expected.”

Aemond looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

She shrugged, giving him a playful grin. “I don’t know. Something more… serious. Intimidating.”

He smirked. “I can be. But I suppose you’re lucky — I like you.”

Y/N’s heart did that little flip again, but she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky, Targaryen. You’re still not off the hook for tomorrow’s snake feeding.”

Aemond laughed, the sound low and warm between the bustles around them. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[crunchchute]

silly traditional drawing from a few weeks ago

[gammija]

i keep constructing elaborate political speeches in my mind. as if somehow if i could just talk to pvv-voters compellingly enough, explain to all of em why this is moronic on every level, they'd all suddenly find out that they're actually leftists at heart who just heard a few facts wrong

[imflyingfish]

Fish you are so good at building to me your the Bdubs of people I know

Pheo ;w; ty

[vixensbrainrotts]

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

[cyberteez]

size - s.mingi

pairing ⋆ s.mingi x afab!reader

genre ⋆ smut, fluff

wc ⋆ 1.7k

summary ⋆ mingi notices how small you are in comparison to him

warnings ⋆ cunnilingus, pinv, sex, no condom(don't do this), mingi is cheesy, he's a bit of a tease, lmk if there's anything else, not entirely proofread

it was a relaxing weekend for the both of you. with nothing planned, you both lazed around on the couch, eating snacks and watching movies. for the past half hour you haven’t been able to focus on the movie, mind unable to take in a fifth movie. you were warm, wrapped in mingi’s arms while the colors of sunset shone through your open window.

the air was cool but pleasant, enough chill to make you stay in his arms but not enough to require a blanket. he simply adored having you in his arms, all small and cute, head resting on his chest. you were wearing on of his t-shirts, the fabric resting on your bare thighs while he traced random lines across them. having lounged all day in one of his shirts, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from you. subtle whiffs of your shampoo enter his nose. even though the two of you lived together, you each had distinct smells and he knew that his shirt would smell of you if he stole it back. that’s a big if, but he’d be willing to tussle for it.

you sighed in his arms, the notion that you two aren’t paying attention to the screen becoming more and more apparent.

“whatcha thinkin about, babe,” you asked, angling your neck upwards to face him.

“you, as always,” he replies with a cheesy grin, earning a playful slap on his chest.

“you’re so dumb.”

yours and his laughter fills the room, quickly settling into a calm atmosphere again. he hummed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing higher on your thigh. you couldn’t tell if he knew what he was doing—as he’d done it before and would feign innocence—or if he was accidentally drawing higher and higher, moving your shorts up your thighs.

“you fit right with me,” he says softly.

you don’t reply, but stare in his eyes as he looks down at you. a few short moments pass before he’s leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

“my sweet thing,” he whispers against your lips, securing his arms around you as you shift to be more comfortable.

your shorts have ridden up to your hips, but you’re too busy trying to breathe to care. his teeth tug at your bottom lip, a smirk forming on his face as he continues to lazily kiss you. a yelp squeaks its way past your lips into his as hands squeeze your ass. his grin only widens as he slips his tongue between your parted lips, deepening the kiss.

while this wasn’t what you had planned for the weekend, you certainly wouldn’t turn him down. his arms lock under your thighs as he stands, not breaking the kiss, but walking in the general direction of your bedroom. he fumbles with the door for a minute, ears turning red for not being seamlessly sexy, but your eye smile is enough to brush away the embarrassment. the plush bed greets your back quickly enveloping your body.

“I didn’t realize how small you were compared to me, love,” mingi comments before leaning in to kiss you again. “makes me feel like I have to hold you.”

he breaths a kiss on your cheek before sloppily making his way down your neck.

“look so pretty in my shirt. I like having what’s mine in my clothes.”

his hands drag his shirt up your sides, hand smoothing over the expanse of your stomach. he presses a kiss near your belly button, working his way up as he pulls his shirt over your head.

“I would keep you in my stuff all the time, but then I wouldn’t get to see all of you, now would I?” he asks to no one. he licks his lips when he's met with your bare chest.

“no bra? you cheeky little thing.”

before suckling your tit into his mouth, he presses open mouthed kisses to your chest. a whine leaves your mouth when he tugs your nipple between his teeth. his other hand comes to cup your other tit, two fingers coming to roll the neglected nipple in between them. the soft whines and breathy pants that leave your lips spur him on and he soon switches to the other side, leaving a trail of kisses between the valley of your breasts. however he’s not where you need him and every roll of his tongue has your hips involuntarily bucking up to meet his crotch. mingi’s hands leave your chest to still your hips, face coming to meet your own.

a smile graces his lips as he says, “I’ll get there eventually, you’re so impatient.”

your hands come to pull his shirt off before he’s slipping off your shorts, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of the bed. his presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear which elicits a whiny moan from you, a plea to hurry up. his index fingers hook the top of your underwear, dragging it down your thighs and to the floor, tossing it aside with the other clothing.

when your thighs close from the cool air hitting your pelvis, he wedges his hands between them, prying them apart for a look at you.

“you’re dripping already and all I’ve done is fondle you. you must really want me, huh?” he pauses for a moment before concluding, “or maybe it’s just that you need me.”

you don’t even need to look at his face to see his shit eating grin, you just know it’s there. you’re prepared to make a snarky retort but fail to do so when you feel his lips attach to your clit, sucking gently. your elbows shake a bit from holding you up as your head rolls back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on you. when he moans against you, you feel electricity run down your legs and up your torso, goosebumps following soon after.

“fuck, mingi,” you moan, voice so light you weren’t sure he heard you.

his response comes in a form of a finger working its way inside you, beginning to stretch you out. a small gasp leaves your lips and your thighs clench around his shoulders as he works you open.

“so tight for me, aren’t you? always so tight for me even when you’re horny as hell. fuck, love, how do you manage to take my cock?”

you choke at his words, warmth spreading throughout your body and pooling in between your legs where he’s adding another finger. you can’t respond in anything other than breathy moans and curses at this point but he doesn’t seem to mind. he adds a third finger to help stretch you in preparation for him. when breathy moans that don't belong to you fill the room, your eyes quickly find mingi’s free hand wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking himself while finger fucking you open. his middle finger kneads your sweet spot which has your legs shaking as you feel your orgasm unexpectedly wash over you. a string of whines and curse words leave your mouth as you cum on his fingers, and through hooded eyes you see him take them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

at this point, he stands so you can see his cock. it twitches in the air as he grips your thighs, prying them open once more so he can line up with your entrance. as he pushes in, he lets out a lovely groan, eyebrows coming together. your slick cunt takes in every inch as if it had a mind of its own.

“fuck you’re so wet for me, baby,” he coos, fingers digging into your thighs when your walls clench around him. “relax, love, my cock won’t fit in you if you squeeze me so much...”

when his pelvis meets yours, you’re both breathing heavily. your thighs tremble as your walls struggle to adjust to his size, the overwhelming feeling of his cock touching every place inside of you has you reeling. he pulls out so just the tip is inside and snaps his hips back into you quickly, eliciting a moan from you. he sets up a steady rhythm, one hand gripping your thighs while the other rests next your head. you can tell he’s having a hard time not fucking you till you break as a sheen of sweat covers his torso, trailing down to his hips.

you can feel your climax starting to come close again, but he has other plans as he pulls out and flips you onto your knees, elbows pressed into the bed. your head falls heavily to the duvet. he has both hands on your hips, clawing bruises into them as his pace speeds up, unable to control himself any longer. one of your hands comes back to cup his side while your head moves to your free forearm, breath still unsteady as he fucks at a wild pace. you can tell he’s drawing close when his motions become uneven and sloppy, but he manages to work his fingers on your clit. he’s cumming soon after, still working you till you climax yourself. you can feel his hand slide on your back from the sweat and a breathy laugh leaves him.

“I went too hard, didn’t I?” mingi rolls off of you, back hitting the sheets as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze.

you’re shaking your head as you lay next to him, wiping the sweat from his forehead and placing a kiss on his temple. you don't stay down long, opting to start the shower for the both of you.

his hands smooth over your back in the shower, suds trailing down your spine as he washes you off. his fingertips gently trace the new bruises on your hips  and he lets out a sigh, apologizing for being so rough. you turn around and embrace him, saying to not apologize and that you liked when he was rough. your head rests on his chest as he continues to wash the both of you, enjoying the feeling of his hands running over your body. the warm water hitting you back makes you sleepy and he can see your eyes struggling to stay open. he hums softly, turning off the shower and pulling you out, drying you off and moving a towel through your hair. he places a kiss on your nose and leads you to your bed in a fresh shirt of his and where you easily fall asleep wrapped in his arms.

© cyberteez 2024

[shirefantasies]

LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Are you sure they like each other? (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Barely edited and I don't know if I happy with this, but I wanted to put something out. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Alyssa and reader are together, but very stoic and not affectionate in public. Think the team know they're together, apparently not. Start to question if they even like each other. Alyssa and reader turn into soft, love sick people when alone.

Warnings: Tiny bit suggestive, some swearing

Words: 3.3K

Alyssa had slipped out, taking our bags up to the room while I was surrounded by some of the team. I had offered to help, but she had insisted I stay to catch up, leaving before I could protest. Neither of us would be considered extroverts, though I was the one who liked to talk a bit more. Kristie pulled me into a tight hug before a few of the girls following suit, "How was your break Y/n?"

"It was pretty good. Alyssa and I just took it easy. Spent some time fixing up some of the stuff around the house I haven't had the time to do. Visited family, that sort of thing."

Confusion covered their faces, Kelley being the first one to speak up, "Wait. You spent the break with Alyssa?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. Alyssa and I had been together for almost 5 years, living together for 3. It wasn't something that had been hidden. Our relationship wasn't public knowledge, but friends and family knew we were together, or so I thought anyway. We weren't an affectionate couple in public or even with our friends, barely ever touching past an occasional hand on the back, a short hug after a game or if we were going to be apart. Occasionally, we would hold hands at home with family or I would lay with my head in her lap during movie night. I loved Alyssa more than words would describe, there was no doubt in my mind she felt the same. Public affection just made us both very uncomfortable.  

"Why wouldn't I? We live together."

"Wait what? You and Alyssa live together?"

"You didn't know? We weren't hiding it. You know we're together right?"

Kelley looked as if I had grown a second head, "You and Alyssa are dating? No we didn't know that! What the hell Y/n?"

Alyssa's hand touched my lower back, letting me know she was there before dropping back to her side. "What's happening here? Why is there yelling?"

"Apparently they're just finding out we live together and have been together for the last almost 5 years."

"5 years?!? And you didn't tell us?"

Even Alyssa looked confused at this point, "What do you mean didn't tell you? It was never hidden. We assumed you knew."

Accusatory glares were sent our way while Alyssa and I just stood there confused. This was not how I expected my morning to go. "You've never kissed, held hands, cuddled or done anything remotely couple like. How were we supposed to know?"

"We've held hands a few times and I sleep against her on the bus sometimes. I get her coffee and breakfast every morning, Alyssa gets me flowers every week even at camp. Pretty sure we've mentioned our anniversary before. We say 'I love you' to each other all the time. Did none of you find that weird?"

"You're always sitting next to each other on the bus so no and we just figured you were close friends or something. I think there's been one time that you've gotten flowers from her in front of us."

"I've seen that a few times actually, but its always when she seems to have a bad day," Tierna spoke up. 

Alyssa shrugged, "Well yeah, I get them every week, but if she's having a bad day then I'll get them on that day to cheer her up. Look, we just don't like PDA, we weren't hiding anything from you. We really thought you knew about us. And before you even ask, no we're not going to prove it. Now we're going to our room."

As soon as we entered our room, I flopped down on the bed, scooting over slightly when Alyssa lay down next to me. I pushed myself into her arms, leaving kisses on her jaw, her hand slipping under my shirt to draw random patterns. "You unpacked my stuff."

Alyssa held me closer, kissing my forehead. People held the impression that Alyssa disliked physical touch, which she did with most people. In reality, Alyssa loved cuddling with me, she loved holding my hand and kissing me. Just touching in general actually. When we first started dating, it was a welcome surprise. I expected some affection, but not as much as I received. There was definitely no complaints from me, I loved cuddling with my partners. "I always do, don't I?"

"You do and I appreciate it, but you don-"

She cut me off with a quick peck before speaking up not giving me the chance, "My love, how many times have you said I don't have to, yet I do it anyway?"

"Pretty much every camp," I mumbled against her neck, knowing what her response was going to be. It was always the same.

"Exactly. I do it because I love you and I want to make your day a little bit easier so how about you just accept it and let me do it."

It wasn't that I didn't like it, in fact I loved that she did it. I just always felt slightly bad when people did things for me. "Fine. I still can't believe they didn't know about us. I really thought they did."

"So did I. Maybe they just don't listen to us at all. It was all kind of entertaining though."

"It was, I can't believe they were so clueless. I have a feeling Emily is going to be annoying though. She had her mischief face on."

Alyssa's hand traveled further up my side as she rolled on top of me, "Unfortunately, I think you're right, but right now there are other things I would rather do than talk about Emily."

---

Just as I sat down for breakfast, Emily and Kelley slid onto the chairs in front of me. They just stared at me until I snapped, asking what they wanted. This was not what I needed early in the morning especially when I had only been awake for like half an hour. Alyssa was always down for breakfast after me, preferring to take her time to get ready and do her puzzles, while I just wanted coffee. 

"So you and Alyssa are together right?"

"Uh yeah, why?"

"Just checking. How long have you been together?"

"Almost 5 years."

"How did you meet?"

I looked at between Emily and Kelley, trying to figure out why I was being interrogated once again, about my relationship. At this point, I was pretty sure the team believed we were lying or something. "You know this already."

"We forgot."

Alyssa approached, giving me a quick smile which I returned, "Perfect timing. I'm being interrogated about our relationship again."

"Why?"

I shrugged, pushing Alyssa's breakfast in front of her receiving a quite thank you. I didn't answer Kelley's question, instead deciding to eat breakfast before it got cold. "Are you two being forced to be together?"

Both of our heads shot up at that. It was such a ridiculous question. There would be no logical reason for us to be pretending to be together especially considering we weren't public knowledge. I bit back my laugh before answering, "What? What makes you think that? Why would that be a thing?"

Emily shrugged, "You just don't seem to like each other like that."

"Go away Kelley," Alyssa mumbled before going back to her breakfast. I ignored her again, getting up for Alyssa's coffee instead. When I returned, Kelley and Emily were still there, giving Alyssa a suspicious look. I handed Alyssa the cup before sitting down again.

"Thank you love."

Emily narrowed her eyes at us, "Suspicious."

Alyssa rolled her eyes while I flipped Emily off. This whole thing was starting to get old. "Go eat your breakfast."

Later that day, we were back in our room, enjoying the time we had before practice. Alyssa was reading, while I lay in the sun on the balcony. I started to want cuddles. I wouldn't say I was clingy because it was true. We could spend hours doing completely different things. Sometimes though, I just craved touching or being held by her. I gave her a few minutes before calling out to her, knowing she would come to me without hesitation.

Alyssa groaned, but got up, slipped off her shirt and sat down behind me with my head in her lap. We met in the middle, lips connecting briefly before I wiggled around to get into a better position. Alyssa eyebrows raised, amusement shining in her eyes, "Comfortable?"

I smirked, lacing my fingers with hers that rest on my stomach, "Very. Do you like me Lyssa? Is someone forcing you to date me?"

"Not even a little bit. Don't you know I'm only with you for your body?" 

"That's what I thought. Maybe I should confess that I'm only with you for your abs."

She smirked at my response, "I had my suspicions. You're obsessed."

"Not my fault they're great abs."

Fingers ran through my hair as Alyssa leant down to kiss my forehead, "You know I love you right Y/n/n? I don't want you to ever doubt that because I don't show you affection in public."

"You know how I feel about PDA, I don't like it, I never have. I have never once doubted your love for me Alyssa and I hope you haven't doubted mine. I love you."

"Good. I have never doubted your love either."

---

Anger and worry coursed through me when I saw Alyssa go down. It was always my worst fear during games, but it didn't really happen during practice. I know we got competitive, there was no reason for it to happen during practice though. I ran up, kneeling beside her, hand grabbing hers, "Are you okay Lys?"

"This ones going to hurt," Alyssa winced, but quickly grabbed my arm when I turned to Rose who had taken her out. "Hey, it's not her fault, it was an accident. Go see if she's okay and be nice."

I took a breath to calm myself down before walking up to Rose. Rose started fidgeting nervously as I walked up to her, "Hey, are you okay Rose?"

"Y-yeah. S-sorry"

I hugged her, feeling her relax against me. Hugs weren't necessarily my favourite thing except when it was with Alyssa, but I knew Rose liked them and I didn't want her to feel bad. It wasn't actually her fault. "Rosie, it was an accident. Don't beat yourself up because of it, but maybe don't make a habit of taking out out keeper during practice, we kinda need her."

---

"You guys coming to dinner?"

"Uh yeah, just going to drop our stuff off."

Once we were in our room, Alyssa sat on the edge of the bed as I knelt behind her, arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely. She lent back against me with a sigh, kissing my hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Think my shoulder might bruise, but I'm okay hun. Don't worry so much."

I lift her shirt over her head, lips meeting the spot that was already starting to bruise then moving around to her neck, cheek and lips, "You know I can't help worrying about you, even if it's a bit ridiculous."

Alyssa turned around, pushing me back and hovering over me, "Well, I'm the same so I can't really say anything. I love you Y/n/n."

I looped my arm around the back of her neck, pulling her down so I could peck her lips, "I love you Lys, but you need to get off cause we need to go down for dinner."

She rolled off me with one final kiss before standing up, "Fine."

"Shirt."

---

My eyes fluttered open to the feeling of lips being pressed to every part of my face and neck. I giggled, arms wrapping around her neck to bring her lips to mine. You wouldn't guess it, but Alyssa always kissed me softly, as if I was something precious. It honestly drove me crazy. 

Alyssa pulled away slowly, grin plastered across her face, "Happy anniversary love."

My grin matched her, as I pecked her lips, "Happy anniversary Lys. I love you."

We spent a little longer in bed than usual, lazy kisses and cuddles shared before reluctantly dragging our selves out of bed and into the shower. Unfortunately, we had training today so we couldn't give in to the clear desires we both had, instead rushing through the shower and downstairs before there was anymore temptation and we ended up late. 

Alyssa and I were discussing dinner plans when we walked into the meal room. We never went out on our anniversary, always staying in and just being with each other in the comfort of our own home. This year was different because we were in a hotel, but we would make do. Just as we sat down, Kelley sat across from us, our conversation ending as we waited for her to say something. "Do you guys even like each other? I mean you guys just seem so indifferent around each other, sure you talk and even joke around sometimes, but it's no different then if you were talking to team mates, we've never heard you talk about anything remotely relationship like."

My arm rest on the back of Alyssa's chair, playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck. That wasn't a usual occurrence, but it was our anniversary. I was feeling a mix of different, slightly overwhelming emotions from love to happiness, and nerves from the fact I was proposing tonight. I just wanted to be close to her right now and the usual leg against mine wasn't enough. Alyssa must have sensed it because her hand rest on my thigh under the table, squeezing gently as I spoke, "Of course we do. We were literally just talking about our plans tonight for our anniversary."

"That was talk about your anniversary? It sounded like you were talking about grocery shopping."

"We were, but in relation to our anniversary."

"So what are you going to do for your anniversary?"

"Chill out in our hotel room. We never do anything big."

"Yeah okay. That tracks with the appearance of your relationship."

Alyssa had gone back to our room after training while I had gone to the store to pick up a few snacks to sneak in and some flowers for her. She always got me flowers so I wanted to return the favour for once. We were planning on ordering in and watching movies before likely ending the night doing inappropriate cuddling.  It was our favourite way to spend our anniversaries. Thankfully, we had an off day tomorrow so we could get away with it. 

After placing the bag down on the table, I called out for Alyssa, getting a response from the bathroom almost instantly. My arms wrapped around Alyssa when she emerged from the bathroom, leaving a lingering kiss against her lips. Her eyes dropped down to the bouquet in my hand, a small smile appearing. "This isn't your actual gift, but you always get me flowers so I thought it was my turn. Your gift is running late."

"They're beautiful, thank you Y/n/n. You know you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but you also always get me something despite me saying the same thing, therefore shut up."

Alyssa laughed, pushing me away gently and taking the flowers, "You speak to me so romantically my love."

I pulled her back into me, peppering her face with kisses, "I love you."

"I love you. I ordered dinner already, it should be here soon. Also here," Alyssa handed out a small wrapped box. Inside was a gold chain with a small keepers glove attached. It was something I had mentioned wanting, a way to have her close when she wasn't there physically. 

"You remembered. I love it Lys."

"Of course I did."

After a short make out session and dinner, we cuddled up in bed to watch a movie. Maybe 15 minutes had passed before I started getting restless. My focus dropped from the movie, instead playing with Alyssa's fingers. I never was the best at staying still. My mind soon drifted to the pool downstairs, it had been a while since I got to go and the urge was suddenly there.  

When I shifted position once again, Alyssa chuckled and paused the movie, "I've lost you haven't I?"

I grinned up at her, kissing her softly. Alyssa always knew me so well. "Do you want to go swimming? It's late so no one will be around."

Alyssa knew I loved swimming so she agreed pretty easily, after some teasing of course. We made our way down to the pool, both wearing tank tops and shorts. No one was around so it didn't matter what we wore. I jumped straight in, swimming around a bit while Alyssa sat on the edge of the pool. After a few minutes, I swam up between Alyssa's legs resting my arms on them as I lent up connecting our lips in a lingering kiss. 

"Come in."

"It's cold."

"Love, it's a heated pool."

"Okay fine, I just enjoy watching you swim around."

"But, if you come in then we can cuddle, kiss," My hand ran up the inside of her thigh, "Touch."

Alyssa instantly slid into the pool, arm wrapping around me and pulling me against her. "You're a tease."

My hands slipped under her tank top, nails scratching down her back and over her stomach, "It's only teasing if I leave it at that. Just wait until we get ba-"

A loud voice interrupted the moment, annoyance crossing Alyssa's face as she stepped back slightly, but didn't let me go. "Oh my god! They really are together."

I groaned, turning to glare at Emily and Kelley, "Fuck off and stop ruining our anniversary."

Once they were out of sight again, I pulled myself out of the pool, Alyssa rest on my legs as I had done earlier. "What are you doing?" 

I pulled the towel that I had hidden the little black box in closer. Inside was a a plain gold band with a round cut diamond. Alyssa didn't often wear jewelry and she liked simple things so I knew she would love it. "I have something for you."

"You waited until we were at the pool to give it to me?"

"Well it wasn't the original plan, but I got nervous." My fingers laced with hers, Alyssa looking up at me curiously. "Never in my life did I think I would fall for someone as hard or fast as I did with you. From the boring, quiet days at home spent doing housework or errands to the movie nights and dinner dates, I love living life with you. I love the adventures we've had, I love working with you, fuck, I just love being with you Alyssa. I look forward to every new day because I get to do it with you. With you by my side, anything is possible. This is a shit speech, but I'm nervous and you love me anyway."

Alyssa chuckled, tears already forming in her eyes before I revealed the little box. "I love you Alyssa, I love you so much more than I thought possible. I want to live life with you forever. With that being said, Alyssa Naeher will you marry me?"

Arms wrapped around my waist tightly, lips connecting with mine, in a soft, emotional kiss, "Yes, yes I will marry you Y/n."

I slipped the ring on her finger, connecting our lips again. Alyssa pulled away too soon for my liking, reaching for her own towel, pulling out a black box similar to the one I had moments before. Alyssa opened it, revealing a plain rose gold band with three small gems set into it. I soon realised it was both our birth stones and one I wasn't quite sure of. "You beat me to it, but will you marry me Y/n?"

"I suppose I can't say no seeing as I just gave you a ring."

Alyssa laughed, sliding the ring onto my finger before kissing me again. "These are our birthstones, what's this one?"

"When we first started dating."

"I love it, I love you."

A crash from behind us instantly caught our attention. About half the team stood there, sheepish smiles in place and a phone pointed in our direction. Seeing as they were caught, everyone started talking over each other, congratulations being thrown our way. I rolled my eyes, turning back to Alyssa. "Let's get out of here before they surround us. We have celebrating to do."

[prythianpages]

You're Good To Me | Eris x Reader

summary: Eris realizes two things. One, he's in love with you, his brother's betrothed. Two, he's put you in danger.

warnings: angst, mentions of killing, but there is some fluff in the middle!

a/n: This one is inspired by Hozier's Would That I. Eris is so Hozier coded and when I heard this song, I couldn't help myself but write this. You can find the masterlist for this series here or just read this as a stand alone imagine. I rewrote the last scenes to this so many times within the past couple of hours but I think I'm finally content with this.

The late morning sun casts long shadows through the towering trees of the Autumn Court's sprawling estate, dappling over Eris with golden hues. Resting against a centuries-old oak, he reads a book–your book–while his hounds run about freely. Occasionally, they bring him a random stick that he happily throws.

She was soft as an angel but oh, she could love with the fury of a demon–

Clover, his youngest hound, barks, pulling his attention from the book. It’s one that has an adorable chirp to it. His fingers still on the page he was about to turn. Recently, there’s been only one other person–besides him, of course– who can elicit such a sound. 

With a roar of a fire, Eris’s heart rises to its feet, mirroring Clover’s excitement. He can feel you too. You’re close. The book he was reading lays forgotten in his lap as he listens for the telltale sound of hoofbeats drawing near.

You had gone for a morning ride with his mother as you’ve done nearly every morning for the past week. How convenient for Eris to be reading near the stables around the time you’d return.

He was strategically positioned not to be in your direct line of sight but for you to come into his.

You’re laughing at something his mother said and the small smile that tugs at his lips is almost inevitable. He lifts his gaze, admiring the carefree expression on your face and the way the sunlight catches your hair. Clover lets out a small wine, tail wagging in anticipation as she watches you. She looks back at Eris, as if asking if she could run to you, and though Eris isn’t one to deny his hounds, he shakes his head at her. He wants to bask in your presence from afar awhile longer.

He can tell your lips are moving but from where he sits, he can’t discern your words. The soft pat you give your horse, Maximus, and the responding loud neigh is enough to clue him in. Maximus stands proud, his long white mane blowing in the gentle morning breeze as you dismount him with the help of one of the stablemen. You traded your pretty dresses for something more fitting for your morning ride. His gaze lingers on the way your pants cling to your curves longer than it should.

A low growl from Clover has him abruptly tearing his gaze away from your body. He watches as you run toward an older male. Your smile is so bright it competes with the sun as you throw your arms around your father. There’s something unsettling about the way your father looks at you. Something that makes your father undeserving of your smile. 

While you look up at him in admiration, he looks at you as if you are his most prized possession. An object. He can tell his mother senses it too by the forced smile on her face as she politely greets him.

In the blink of an eye, Clover is darting toward you with an urgency that startles Eris. The rest of his hounds pause, their muscles tensing as they watch the scene unfold. Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. Clover bounds towards you, her tongue eagerly reaching out to shower you with affection.

“Do they just let vile creatures roam around freely here?” He hears your father loudly ask with a scowl on his face.

“Her name is Clover,” you are quick to correct, turning toward your father again.

Clover turns with you and suddenly, she’s growling and snapping at him. With a yelp, your father falls to the ground on his butt while Clover lowers her head with another growl in warning. Eris rises to his feet and brings his finger to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle.

Just as quickly as Clover had escaped his side, she obediently makes her way back to him. Your gaze follows after her, and it's then that you spot Eris. There's a softness in your gaze as it lands on him. Despite the tension between Clover and your father, you seem unfazed. Your focus solely on Eris as the stablemen rush to help your father, who is groaning out profanities while his mother apologizes on Eris’s behalf. 

Eris holds your gaze, patting Clover’s head in a reassuring manner. He’s not sorry about the whole ordeal. His hounds are trained to appear menacing and fearsome but they never attack without reason. Now, he’s inclined to investigate further, realizing he does not know enough about your father.

“Come along,” your father says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and forcing your attention back to him. He looks down at your outfit and a frown appears on his face. “You’re a Lady now, y/n. You need to dress like it.”

“I’m sorry,” he hears you apologize, unsettling him further. He watches as your body is enveloped by a golden glow and when he blinks, your riding outfit is replaced by a soft pink gown.

As your father rushes you back toward the forest house, you can’t help but glance back. There’s the slightest curve to Eris’s lips at that. He waves your book in a teasing manner, reveling in the immediate response he receives. You quickly turn back around and even from his distance, he can appreciate the blush that warms your cheeks. He feels a similar warmth swell in his chest, leaving him already anticipating seeing you again at dinner.

**

Eris hesitantly turns the final page of the book, as if reluctant to part ways. He had needed something to preoccupy himself with until dinner and with his father thankfully busy entertaining yours, he decided to immerse himself further into the book you held dear. He knew it was one you treasured by the worn-out cover and the pages threatening to detach from the spine. He’s almost distraught at the creases that line the top edges of random pages but is willing to forgive you for it. 

His gaze settles on the last words, a bittersweet ache tugging at his heartstrings.

"You are the love that came without warning. You had my heart before I could say no,” he breathes, holding her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” she croaks out as she looks up at him, blood seeping from her mouth. “I love you too.”

And as she drew her last breath, he felt his world end with it.

He stares at the words, reading them over and over again. Finally, he closes the book, but the words linger, echoing within him like a haunting melody. They stir emotions in him he’s never felt towards the ending of a book before. He feels lost. Angry. Disbelief. What kind of ending was this? If this book wasn’t yours, he would’ve flung it across his room.

He lets out a deep exhale, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. When he opens them, he looks at the clock hanging across the wall from him. Two hours until dinner still looms ahead. He wants to find you, to tell you his thoughts like you told him to but it’s too risky at this moment. 

Rising from his seat, he gingerly sets your cherished book down on the small table beside him. He grabs his coat, deciding fresh air will do him well. Perhaps, even a walk through the village. There is a shop he’d like to visit. Anything to quiet his thoughts and the clamor of his racing heart. The characters from the book struck a chord too familiar with him.

**

“Hold my hand.”

“No.”

Eris pauses at the voices, eyes immediately finding the owners. There's a notable gap between you and Sawyer, tension crackling in the air as you exchange heated glances. For a moment, Eris wonders if there’s fire coursing through your veins too.

“Listen,” you start. “I don’t want to hold your hand but I want my father to believe I’m happy.”

Sawyer lets out a chuckle. “Your father doesn’t care.”

The look of hurt that flashes in your eyes is enough to have Eris’s blood boiling. “Can’t you at least do this one thing for me?” You plead, clasping your hands in front of him.

“Nope,” Sawyer repeats, accentuating the “p” sound, evidently relishing in the opportunity to further irk you.

“Gods, you’re such an–an…”

Sawyer raises a challenging eyebrow, his gaze locking onto you as your voice wavers, the resolve slipping away. "Say it," he whispers sharply, and Eris's muscles tense instinctively, not liking his brother's tone. Maybe, he should intervene…and teach Sawyer another lesson.

“You’re an asshole.”

Eris almost chokes on his own spit. He fights back the urge to laugh. Not at you, but at the sheer surprise written all over Sawyer's face. Sawyer clearly hadn't expected such boldness from you, and if Eris were to be honest, he is surprised too. Pleasantly surprised. 

“Only for you,” Sawyer hisses back, surprise morphing into offense.

“I won’t even breathe in your direction for the next week.”

“And?” 

You look at him incredulously. “And?”

Sawyer doesn’t respond. He folds his arms tightly across his chest, letting you know he expects more from you. Your response is a frustrated huff, a sound that would have typically elicited an amused smile from Eris. But not at this moment. 

“Fine. I’ll cover for you for all the days leading up to our wedding. Do whom and what as you please. But–” you pause, holding a finger out to him. “–you have to say something nice to me in front of my father too.”

Sawyer’s lips curve into a pleased smirk. “That’s more like it, poo bear,” he purrs, bringing his hand up to pinch at your cheek a little too rough for Eris’s liking.

His fists clench at his sides, watching with envy as Sawyer slowly offers you his arm. Though it’s what you asked for, you eye it with caution. As soon as your hand is lifting to take Sawyer’s arm, Eris finally decides to make his presence known. He walks forward and toward the still notable gap between you and his younger brother. His shoulder purposely bumps into Sawyer’s, a mask of indifference on his face as he does so.

On the other side, his fingers graze against yours. A gesture so subtle it appears to be accidental. There’s no nuance in your expression but your fingers respond, gently lingering over his own. A tug on that golden thread in his chest has his steps wanting to falter. He does not give in, pushing forward instead.

Eris walks into the dining room and settles into his seat beside his mother, nodding a greeting to both his father and yours. They’re already immersed in what sounds like a pointless conversation over Prythian’s economy. Knowing that you and Sawyer will be following shortly, hand in hand, he yanks the bottle of wine from Oliver’s grasp. The heated glare he receives is instant but he couldn’t care any less as he fills his glass to the brim, wishing it was something stronger.

“There’s my blooming flower,” he hears your father happily greet as you grace them with your presence.

“The prettiest flower,” Sawyer remarks in a tone as smooth and soft as velvet. His younger brothers snicker, clearly amused with the drastic change in Sawyer’s attitude toward you. 

Eris, however, does not find it amusing. 

The grip on his glass tightens so harshly that his mother spares him a glance. She gives him a discreet kick under the table, silently urging him to relax. While his grip on his wine glass loosens, the tension in his jaw doesn’t. He remains quiet during dinner, chiming in only enough to not raise suspicion. He doesn’t dare to sneak a glance at you. Nor at Sawyer. Not even to glare daggers at him for every sweet word he speaks your way.

He knows it’s all an act but the thought does nothing to soothe him. Not when he heard you begging Sawyer to act like he likes you, to hold your hand, to say sweet nothings to you. To do all the things Eris is desperately yearning to do. 

The Cauldron was cruel.

**

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well here,” your father says as you walk arm in arm.  “A flower like you needs the right soil to flourish.”

After dinner, the two of you had taken a stroll through the gardens, catching up with one another. He told you all about his recent business adventures, gloating over how the deals coming his way were endless as the word of your family name mixed with the Vanserras spread throughout Prythian. It was when the autumn winds began to pick up and grew too cold for your liking that you made your way back in the forest house and toward your room.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” You ask, a frown settling over your brows. Please stay, you want to add.

“I’m afraid so. I have a meeting with a potential business partner in Hewn City so I’ll have to leave early tomorrow to prepare,” your father replies in an apologetic tone. “I’ll try to make it in time for your next dress fitting.”

“Okay,” you respond, forcing another smile to your face. You hope your father can’t see right through it. “I’ll wake up early tomorrow to bid you farewell.”

“Lovely,” Your father says, the two of you coming to a stop near your door, where an Autumn guard is stationed right in front. With a nod of his head, the guard steps aside, allowing you access to your room. “Sleep well, okay?”

You lean your back against the door in contemplation. There’s so much you want to say. You want to tell him the truth. To ask him to call off the wedding. To have him take you with him, even if its to Hewn City. 

Perhaps, if it were your mother standing before you, you would’ve confessed it all. She was always willing to listen. Your father…not so much. Given the way he was already bragging about the benefits from your arranged marriage, you worried it’d only be a waste of your breath. You also feared burdening him further, knowing he already had a lot on his plate.

You worry your father senses your inner turmoil when he reaches out a hand, lifting your chin. He smiles at you, his eyes seemingly capturing every detail of your presence. Almost like he’s etching it into his memory forever. “You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more in a daughter. Your mother would be proud too.”

There’s a pang in your chest and your smile falters. Something tells you, you wouldn’t be marrying Sawyer if she were alive. Unlike your father, she would see right through you and find a way out for you. But you can’t blame your father, either. Your mother’s last wish was to see you married and happy. Your father only wishes to honor it. 

So instead of voicing your worries, you nod. “Goodnight, father.”

**

When you enter your room, you swear your heart skips a beat. Eris stands tall by your window, his red hair glowing like strands of molten copper under the pale moonlight. His gaze is fixed on the rustle of the leaves from the cool breeze, the shadows dancing across his delicate features. He looks ethereal just standing there.

“Your view is better than mine.”

You’re quick to shut the door behind you. “Lord Eris.”

Eris lets out a snort at your formality. He turns to face you with a small smile. “Just Eris,” he reminds softly as you approach him. 

“Sorry, it’s a habit now,” you reply in a sheepish manner. You walk further into your room, joining him at his side. “What are you doing here? You didn’t leave a note this time.”

“I finally finished it.” Eris says as he reveals what he’s holding in his hands. Your book.

“You did?” Your eyes widen as you take it back from him.

The spine is gently bowed from decades of being held dear but you notice that the pages that were teetering away from the spine have been carefully attached back. What catches your eyes most, however, is the golden thread dangling from the midst of the pages. Your fingers toy with the autumn leaf charms that hang from it. Opening the book, you realize the string is attached to a bookmark. It’s placed exactly where you had last creased the page you had been on.

“I can’t believe you dog ear your pages, angel.”

Eris’s nose crinkles in disgust yet there’s an amused gleam in his eyes that has a laugh bubbling in your chest. “You say it like it’s a crime.”

“Because it is,” he insists with an incredulous furrow of his brow.

“Did you like it?”

“Like?” He laughs and you feel a flutter of uncertainty course through you. “I loved it,” he admits, soothing the flutter but then adds: “But I hated the ending.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes, his tone mirroring the playful glint dancing in his eyes.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you remind yourself to breathe properly. “Do you want to talk about it?” You offer tentatively, your heart racing with anticipation.

Eris grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Sitting on the window seat, he adjusts his body so that his back leans against the window. He carefully angles his legs, giving you space to sit too. You settle across from, hugging your knees to your chest. 

“Start from the beginning.”

And so Eris does, pouring out his every thought. 

He tells you how he enjoyed the author’s world building of the human world, though he knows in reality, it’s actually very boring. You attempt to defend the mortals but Eris dismisses it, claiming he knows their world is dull based on a human he knows. He then tells you how the slow burn romance between the two protagonists nearly drove him insane. That he’d never been more happy to read about two characters holding hands.  

“And don’t even get me started on the intimate scenes between those two. It went on in extravagant details for pages and pages,” he says with an amused exhalation. “How something so vulgar can be written so beautifully is beyond me!”

You can’t help but laugh at that, despite the heat rising to your cheeks. Eris continues with his passionate rant and you drink every single word. At some points, he pauses, asking for your interpretations of certain scenes, bringing forth small arguments and laughter.

"I just can't get over that ending," Eris remarks with a sigh, his brow furrowing in frustration. "It's just so... sad. Disappointing, almost. After all that trouble the hero went to save her only for her to still die at the end...”

"But isn't there a certain beauty in tragedy?" you counter softly. "The way it makes you feel, the emotions it evokes. The angst. Because as you read, you slowly begin to realize that it was not her who needed saving but him.”

Eris tilts his head, contemplating your words for a moment. Of course, you would see the beauty in the ending. His lips curve into a pout. He needs to protect you at all costs. He doesn’t want you to end up like him, spirit crushed by the cruel confinements of this court and forced to wear a mask at all times.

"I suppose I just prefer stories with happy endings. Life's already filled with enough sadness, isn't it?"

“It is,” you murmur, gaze softening with empathy. Then, your eyes are lighting up as a thought crosses your mind and you’re smiling at him. “Who would’ve thought Eris Vanserra, the heir to the Autumn Court, is a hopeless romantic with a soft spot for happy endings.”

The smile that breaks out brightens his entire expression and he lets out a chuckle, sending a warm flutter through your chest. He leans in closer, his amber eyes alight with an intensity that mirrors the flickering flames of the hearth in your room.

“And who would’ve thought a saint like you has the mind of a sinner.”

“Hey!” You gasp and give a playful kick to his thigh. 

Eris laughs, body relaxing as he slumps against the window for support. He’s lost count of the amount of times you two have laughed tonight but he knows it’s more than he ever has before. When you shift to give another kick, his hand grasps at your ankles. He raises a brow at you in challenge, almost daring you to try again.

“You said and I quote ‘something so vulgar can be written so beautifully,’ meaning that you enjoyed them too.”

“I did,” Eris agrees, lips curling into a smirk as he lifts his gaze. His fingers mindlessly dance across your exposed leg, sending a delightful shiver through you. “But I am no saint.”

It’s when he feels your leg twitch that he realizes what he’d been doing. He stands abruptly and lowers his head. He fears he’s getting too comfortable around you. “I sh–”

Standing from the window seat, your hand grasps for his, stopping him. “Since you read one of my favorites, it’s only fair that I read one of yours.” 

Eris's eyes widen in surprise and he turns back to look at you. No one has ever asked him about his favorite book. He read yours because he wanted to, curious to learn more about you through it. He didn’t expect you to return the gesture. 

 "Deal.” 

The word escapes him with such ease it scares him but it’s short lived as he’s overcome with excitement. His passion for reading had always been a solitary pursuit. It was something he never really shared with others, but he wants to with you. 

“I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you respond happily.

“But,” he begins, not allowing you to let go of his hand, his thumb brushes against the back of it. “You’re not allowed to dog ear my pages.”

“I’ll also need a book in return. It’s only fair,” he adds, mimicking your tone from earlier. His mind then drifts to thoughts of the both of you, curled up against one another with a book in your laps. Or maybe, you’d read to him while he holds you close, his head resting atop your shoulder and–

“Of course,” you reply, pulling him from his fantasies and toward the other side of your room, where many books were neatly lined atop a shelf. “I couldn’t bring all my books but I brought all my absolute favorites!"

Eris watches as you hum in contemplation. His attention is drawn to the way you tap a finger against your lips. He remembers the way they felt against his cheek. Lovely and sweet. Like your heart. He’s dying to know what they’d feel like against his lips…

He knows you’ve finally decided on a book when your other hand frees itself from his hold to reach out for it. You carefully slide it off the shelf and then turn around, presenting it to him. “You’ll love this one,” you tell him and you’re so confident it has his lips twitching upwards for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.  “It has a happy ending."

"I think I...," his voice wavers with a delicate tremor. He looks away, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush over the words he couldn't bring himself to articulate. "You're good to me," he murmurs instead, taking the book from you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Your words coax his gaze back to yours and the sincerity he finds in your eyes is one that’s never been directed at him before. It stirs a desire in him that he never even knew he was searching for. 

The fire in his veins burns brighter. The bond in his chest sings louder. He allows it to pull him closer to you. You're also leaning in until the book in his hand is the only barrier between your bodies.

There's nothing else to interrupt this moment between you both. No bells chiming like that day in the fountains. No cloak to trip over or lanterns like that night he snuck you out. It's just you two, in the stillness of the night, where the only sounds are your breaths and the crackle of the hearth nearby.

His movements are slow, giving you the chance to pull away at any moment. You don't. He watches your every shift in expression as his free hand tilts your chin up towards him. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

And then he's kissing you.

Softly and delicately like a butterfly's wings. Your lips are warm and perfect against his, your taste sweet and intoxicating. Even better than he could ever imagine.

Your hands travel up his neck and thread themselves through his hair, pressing his lips harsher against yours. Heat courses through him as you kiss him back. You're like a wildfire, burning away all memories of past lovers and leaving only the embers of your essence to light his way.

When he pulls away, a shared breathlessness lingers between you. As he looks into your eyes, it's like the world has somehow shifted. All at once, everything is different. He longs for the night he'll be able to hold you tight and let the blinding light you bring consume him fully.

For now, he leans his forehead against yours, breathing you in and taking in the soft smile on your face that mirrors his own.

**

But the very next morning, he's harshly reminded that though he's had a taste, your radiance remains beyond his grasp. He fears it will forever, like a forbidden flame that flickers just out of reach.

"Who does he think he is, making demands of me?" Beron seethes, his voice laced with frustration, as he paces back and forth in his study.  “I’ve graciously taken in his daughter. I’ve even granted him half of his money upfront. And yet where is my promise?”

Eris, standing nearby, observes with cautious eyes, gauging the storm brewing within his father. He knew it was going to be a bad day the moment he woke up from a nightmare. A nightmare whose cruel grip he still cannot shake off…because for the first time, you were in it.

 He prays his father can’t hear the rapid beating of his heart as he says, “Cancel the deal. Call off the wedding with Sawyer...”

And wed her to me, he wishes to add but the words stick in his throat. The painful truth lingers deep in his chest, nestled next to the strings of fate that bind him to you. It’s best if you leave this court and go somewhere far.

Far away where happiness might embrace you. Far away from the cruel clutches of his father’s power and even your own. Far away where you may free him of this torment…but the more time he spends with you, the more precarious the thread his honor hangs on becomes.

He fears that nowhere would be far enough now.

“Call off the wedding?” Beron laughs in an incredulous manner. The gold and crimson tapestries adorning the walls seem to shiver in response to his father’s simmering frustration. When Beron abruptly turns to face Eris, the younger male can’t help but flinch. “When you were the one who suggested this arrangement to begin with.”

Eris’s throat tightens. He had been the one to suggest this arranged marriage. 

Your father, a respected merchant, extended an offer to Beron – an offer that, even now, Eris grapples to comprehend fully. It was a proposal that was lured with promises of enhanced power for the High Lord of Autumn in exchange for wealth and elevated status through matrimonial ties.

With no available Vanserra daughters to marry your father to and Sawyer's nightly endeavors tarnishing the family name, it led Eris to suggest an arranged marriage between you and Sawyer. A futile attempt to protect his younger brother from a fate similar to Lucien’s…but at what cost?

The Cauldron must be bubbling with amusement at the irony of it all. For, unknowingly, Eris orchestrated the union between you, his mate, and his brother. This is all his doing. All his fault.

Eris wills himself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. “What’s so important about this exchange anyway?” He asks with a measured voice.

“Jareth has access to something precious,” Beron responds, his words chosen with deliberate care. "Something that may hold the key to immortality."

Eris's eyebrows furrow in contemplation, his mind racing to grasp at what special thing your father could be harboring. "What if he is bluffing?" 

Beron's eyes darken, sending a shiver down Eris's spine. His heart sinks to his stomach as he can already anticipate what his father is going to say.

 “I’ll kill his precious daughter. Then, I’ll kill him.”

If your father keeps his end of the bargain, you’ll marry Sawyer. Doomed to a life of misery, where danger lurks at every corner. If your father doesn’t keep his end of the bargain, you’ll be the one to face the consequences of his father's wrath.

And you're in this situation because of him. The bond in his chest tightens, the golden strings pulling taut with a piercing resonance. No, no, no. Panic seeps in with an agonizing intensity. The mere thought of any harm coming to you, especially because of his actions, sickens him to his stomach.

He can’t allow that to happen. He won't allow it to happen.

“That won’t be necessary,” Eris says, carrying the weight of centuries of practiced composure. “I’ll ensure Jareth keeps his end of the bargain.”

“As expected,” Beron replies in a pleased tone. “I’m counting on you.”

Eris manages a nod, silently excusing himself. He’s never been more desperate to leave his father’s study. He feels his hands begin to shake and he shoves them into his pockets, not wanting to allow anyone a glimpse of the turmoil raging inside.

It's only when he's in the comfort of his room that he allows his facade to crumble. Leaning heavily against the door, he slowly sinks to the floor. His hounds are immediately rushing to his side, noses brushing softly against his arms.

"I made a terrible mistake," he tells them quietly and a low whine comes from one of them in protest. Then, with a strong determination, he says, "but I'm going to fix it."

"I swear it," he promises, rising to his feet, his hounds following after him as he makes his way further into his room.

You're not going to marry Sawyer and you're not going to be the one to pay the consequences of your father's actions, should he betray them. No. Eris will make sure of that. He's running out of time but he's going to find a way to get you out of this mess. He knows he can.

Eris realizes then he'd do anything to keep you safe, even if it means losing everything. Because if there's one thing he can't lose, it's you.

a/n: and here comes the angst train. I hope you enjoyed Eris and reader talking about her favorite book as much as I enjoyed writing it ♡

tagging: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams

[comicaurora]

Why do you never want to talk about aurora in videos and streams, even if requested? Do you just feel disingenuous, or is it something else?

Because self-promotion makes me uncomfortable, I don't want to obnoxiously self-aggrandize, and part of me still feels like the worst crime I can commit is inflicting myself and my work on other people. I've been smacking that part down over the years, but it's not wholly gone just yet.

Funny story about that. I was just a panelist at the sci fi fandom convention Capricon this weekend, and I was on two panels about comics with Gene Ha, a comic writer and illustrator who's been in the superhero comic business since 1993. Most recently he worked on Wonder Woman Historia, a "what the amazons were up to pre-Wonder-Woman" comic volume. He had a sketchpad with him and spent his time on the panels when he wasn't talking drawing portraits of random audience members and then slipping away from the table to hand them to them. Absolutely lovely man.

When we were making small talk before the panel, he leaned over and said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "By the way, I checked out your webcomic this morning, and it's really good!"

He then proceeded to relentlessly compliment my grasp of paneling, flow, and readability, which was the most unexpected and unbelievably validating thing I'd ever experienced.

Then, when we were recommending comics at the end of the first panel, he drew up a little sign and propped it next to his nameplate - "comicaurora . com by Red!" - and brought it to the second panel we were on to reiterate the point. And the whole time I was comedically cringing into a ball, I was like "maybe… I don't need to be cringing into a ball about this……?"

It was very, very kind, and though I have difficulty taking compliments because it makes the imposter syndrome goblin that lives in my brain cackle madly on its throne of skull, I 100% believed his sincerity. A legitimate professional and pillar of the industry - a neutral party who is not already a fan of me - says I know what I'm doing.

Wild!

[moneymartin]

・❥・- just for you.

summary: kate takes her anger out on you after a hard loss. (more gentle tho cause she doesn’t have the heart to hurt you 😞😞😞) + lil bit of aftercare at the end ;3

warnings: 18+ ASFUCK! SMUT MDNI! strap on use… lol

RPF!

a/n: ik i been lacking recently but i’ve grown some more motivation to do something since i’m kinda stuck at home. also almost broke my arm yesterday hahah 🥸 also not much dialogue tbh i’ve never been good at that cuz i dont talk to ppl 😭 AND i didn’t know how to end sozzzzzz!!!!

it was the toughest lost of kate’s college career, especially considering the fact that it was her last year at UOI. the only thing she wanted was to have the championship title, just once. but the team couldn’t do it.

you saw her put all her blood sweat and tears onto that court. the way she tried to make as many shots, as many blocks as she could, and as many fouls as she could draw. the way you watched her cry while she walked into the tunnel absolutely broke you.

when she got home the air between you two grew extremely thick. you couldn’t tell if she was angry or even over it at all. she wasn’t crying, just real quiet. and being the good girlfriend you were, you didn’t bother to push any of her buttons, no matter how much you wanted to just keep her company.

kate would either be sitting on the couch, on her phone, continuously walking around the apartment, sitting in random spots on the floor, in the kitchen. she’d be anywhere and everywhere. all she wanted to do was get her mind off of it, for a little bit.

“are you okay?” you speak amidst the quiet environment that had been lingering for god knows how many hours. you didn’t try to speak either because it felt like she’d just ignore you or give you a nasty look cause she wasn’t feeling so good about it. “i’m fine.” kate murmurs and looks up at you from the clasped hands on her face. the tone she gives you makes it known that she isn’t.

“yeah, right.” a scoff leaves from your lips and the mood changes almost immediately. your eyes dart towards kate and the look that she’s giving you makes it feel like a million daggers are being dug into your back. her face stiffens up and so does your body when you realize that she’s 100% angry.

you know that it isn’t your fault, but now it really feels like it was. “do you think that’s funny or something?” when you hear that, it’s obvious that you’ve fucked up. you can’t muster up anything in response cause you know that it’ll make it worse. not for her, but for you.

but there’s just something about kate that drives you insane when she’s fired up.

“no.” you swallow.

“exactly! don’t fuckin’ go around and laugh about it, if it isn’t funny! are we clear?”

she grunts and lets out a heavy breath when you stand there all quiet and unresponsive. she hates that. its the one thing that makes kate tick the most, other than losing a game that important to her. “answer me.”

you don’t respond. and the look of anger on kate’s face grows much more apparent. “c’mon!” she groans and quickly slides off of the bed. her fingers grip at the collar of your shirt, her rapid breaths brushing harshly against your face.

she tugs your body up against hers and a small whine escapes from in between your lips. kate is giving those eyes that make you shiver all over the place. “y- yes, we’re clear…” you choke out and look away. you can’t stand seeing her angry but its also the fact that it turns you on too.

your voice makes it seem like you aren’t very sincere about saying that though, and that makes her tick even more. kate’s teeth grit together and a sharp breath makes its way through them, her fingers inching closer towards the waistband of your jeans.

“yeah? you sure?” kate teases and starts to unbutton them. her voice deepens and the cold air that meets your now exposed skin makes the shivers feel more like a billion daggers going through your body. her hands cup your waist, a newfound lust taking over the look in kate’s eyes. “doesn’t seem so sincere…” she husks out.

“i mean it! god, you can’t believe me even when i mean it the most.” you sigh and stare at the jeans puddling around your feet. when you bend over to pick them back up and put them on again, kate’s fingers wrap around your sleeve and she pulls you up, drawing a quiet ‘tsk’ sound from your mouth. “just… let me fuck your brains out until i get you to really mean it.”

she tugs you up against her again, her front subtly grinding against yours. and now you can actually feel it. her stupid fucking strap. your eyes dart towards hers momentarily before they inch away. the embarrassment you feel is incredibly strong. you’re wet, and now you can’t even look her in the eyes.

before you even get a chance to speak, kate’s hand falls on the dip of your back and you’re face first into the foot of the mattress. the side of your head presses against it again to get a breather, the sound of kate unzipping her jeans rapidly, and the tip of the strap making contact with your body.

one of her hands grabs both of yours and pins them backwards, the other hand trailing up and down your body and towards the waistband of your panties. in one swift movement, they’re off and on the floor. you have no clue where, but they’re somewhere in that room. as much as you’re trying to resist, you can’t

“c’mon, baby. don’t fight it, please.” kate pleads and leans over your body to bury her face into your neck. her teeth dig into the side of it and you let out a wince, struggling to move your hands while she keeps them in a lock. kate’s breath tickles at your skin while she pulls away, the hand she has on your waist moving away to line herself up with your entrance.

she doesn’t even give you a warning before she slides in. the only thing that makes it known that you’re getting absolutely filled up is the groan kate lets out when she goes in all the way. you let out a huge whimper and eventually start to feel it. “fuck!… oh my god.” you babble and feel kate leaning toward your face again, her breathing hitting your skin, leaving behind dark marks on the base of your neck.

the more you moan and whine into the sheets, the more it fuels her to keep going. she thrusts into you as hard as she can, her hand letting go of the two she’s been holding, and yanks at your hair to pull your head up. “you fuckin’ feel that, baby? that’s all for you.” kate grunts, smashing her lips against yours and pulling your hair again. “just for you..” a hurried ‘mhm’ escapes your lips, your voice left limited.

your whimpers mix into the kiss as you constantly punch at the bed the harder she drives into you. her teeth tug at your bottom lip and your head moves away the more you feel yourself start to sweat uncontrollably. hair sticks to the side of your head and to your forehead, kate gently brushing them out of your face to keep that prolonged eye contact.

“you’re so beautiful, i swear.”

“hmphh—! you’re going too-“

you get cut off the second you feel the turns in your stomach and the blood rush to your face. that familiar feeling burns brightly in your belly and the knot that had been there forever finally becomes undone. you end up finishing, the overwhelming sensation dying down almost instantly.

kate rolls off of you and notices the water buildup in your eyes, her thumbs running across the bottom of them to wipe them away. she lets out a small sigh and scoots a little bit closer to you, eyeing down the hickeys she left on your skin. “i’m sorry, baby.” she whispers softly and cups your face with her palms.

her lips connect onto your neck and she peppers gentle kisses all over each hickey. the contrast from her rough nature to eventually turning into that natural soft, sweet woman you fell in love with the second she sees you like this. “let me fix you a warm bath, okay? for the troubles.” she whispers in between smooches, her hand snaking up your shirt, and her nails dragging softly against your back.

“duh. you know just how i like it.”

“why would i not.” she lets out a scoff and pulls away quickly, a small smile crossing her face when you agree. “was that a scoff?” you mutter and raise your eyebrows. hers do too, and her lips narrow into a straight line. “what about it?”

well, that was the small thing that got you here in the first place.

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

a/n: i should be studying but here i am thinking abt motorcycle Toge... also i hate how some ppl see him as a small and weak (physically?!) bitch boy like erm tf no!? he is far from that and he's sooooo fineee.

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

For years now, you and Inumaki have been very close friends, it started from the moment you transferred to a new college.

3 Years Ago...

He was always the quiet type, the one who preferred hanging at the back of the class, alone, away from others.

As you stepped into the classroom for the first time, you greeted your classmates with a friendly nod. When the teacher welcomed you and offered a choice of seats, you made your way to the back of the room, deliberately keeping a distance from the other person who is also sitting there. Though there were plenty of spots up front, you preferred the quiet and privacy that the back provided, especially since you were new and not keen on drawing attention to yourself. It just felt right to have your own space in the back of the class.

It soon became a familiar routine: every morning, you'd enter the classroom and gravitate towards the back, taking your seat next to Inumaki. At first, he appeared slightly irritated by the intrusion, but as weeks passed, that annoyance seemed to fade away. Perhaps he realized it wasn't entirely within his control, or maybe he simply grew accustomed to your presence. Either way, it didn't seem to bother him much anymore, and frankly, you didn't dwell on it either.

Whenever you found yourself with spare time in class—be it after finishing assignments early or completing a test ahead of schedule—you'd often turn to doodling in your notebook. It was a soothing pastime, allowing your mind to wander while your hand sketched away. Initially, your doodles revolved around animals and random objects, but soon you found yourself drawn to sketching things you actually liked: cars and motorcycles.

You had a particular interest in sports cars, especially Japanese models like the GT-R, GR86, and 350/370Z. The sleek lines and powerful engines captivated your imagination, and you poured your passion into every detail of your drawings. From envisioning custom modifications to simply making them look jaw-droppingly cool.

Then, unexpectedly, motorcycles entered the picture, quite literally. One day, as you made your way to class, a Yamaha R3 parked outside the school caught your attention. Despite never having been particularly interested in bikes before, something about this one intrigued you. It sparked a newfound curiosity that led you to delve into research, eager to learn more.

Every day for the past week, that Yamaha R3 parked outside the school became your muse. You would walk into class, take your seat and before your class even begins, you'd take a moment to sketch the bike, capturing its sleek contours and intricate features. With each passing day, you discovered new details to incorporate into your drawing, whether it was the curve of the exhaust pipes or the pattern on the seat. It became a daily routine.

SMAU

GUYS I FR WASNT GONNA MAKE THIS AN SMAU BUT THIS FRIEND GROUP IS ALWAYS TALKING TO EACH OTHER SO I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN

also this is like 50% written and 50% smau (im gonna try to make the next few chapters AFTER chapter 5 more smau)

[mauesartetc]

A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:

Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.

Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.

That's just a drawing.

But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.

And now for the visual research:

I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.

Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.

Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.

On to color!

I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.

For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.

I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!

Let's see the final result!

Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.

And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.

Later!

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s ��pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.

[woo-wahhhh]

[ study buddies ] studying with umemiya was always fun, though it wasn't like he studied at all on most days. most days, it was just you and him sitting in one of the old classrooms for a couple hours– you, studying and writing notes, and umemiya, telling you about his day or quietly humming as he did his best not to disturb you.

that being said, you could never tell him he was a nuisance, even if some days, he spent a bit too much time bragging about his new produce.

spending time with someone whose life was fundamentally different from yours was charming. try as you might to focus on the quadratic equations scrawled on the test papers and your grid notebooks, but your eyes couldn't help but sparkle when he told you about the shenanigans that he got up to every day.

"– and then the grandpa was suuuper thankful for some reason and he gave us huge load of yakisoba as thanks!" umemiya boasted, tipping back in his chair just a little to splay his arms out wide to display his enthusiasm.

"ume, you're gonna fall out of your chair," you chuckled, reaching out to him to pull him back– which he took, his grip strong and secure.

"but get this!" he exclaimed, suddenly drawing himself close, leaning in. he had so much force in that one tug, that it drew you closer as well, until his face was merely an inch away from yours, with a cheeky, cheeky grin. "i got you some too!"

his happiness was so infectious that despite the light blush dusted across your cheeks, you giggled along with him as he dug into a white plastic bag and handed you a sealed container.

studying with umemiya was always fun because the things that you paid no mind and followed like clockwork were from another world for him.

it was a given for a star student like you to carry out homework and tests and all sorts of studying without making an error because that was simply what was expected of you; it wasn't like you liked it. it was expected that you would unquestioningly sink all your time into your studies because if you slipped up and scored lower than you should, you would never hear the end of it from the people around you.

"you know, it's pretty amazing how you can sit here and crunch through all these sheets without getting distracted, (name)," umemiya had randomly blurted out, his chin planted in his palms as he propped his elbows up on the desk.

your head snapped up at the sudden comment, before grimacing at the sudden action since you had been looking down at your notebooks and writing for so long.

"i mean... it's just... writing stuff down," you replied lamely, more so unsure at how to take the sudden compliment. "i'm sure that if you put your mind to it, you could do it too."

"don't you think i'd get distracted too easily?" so you're aware you're like that? you thought to yourself in mild disbelief, half pitying hiiragi, who usually has to deal with umemiya's inherent randomness.

"i won't disagree with that," you laughed, stretching your arms over your head before continuing to scrawl out notes. "but it's not that amazing, you know. anyone can do this."

"yeah, but the fact that you stick through with it is pretty cool." you grit your teeth together at that comment– it isn't like i want to, you wanted to say bitterly, but his continuance surprised you pleasantly. "lots of people would quit under all the pressure, but you keep going. isn't that worth appreciating?"

your hand paused its movements, processing the tender heat that crept up your spine and made its hearth upon your rosy cheeks. you giggled delightfully at the sudden praise, a painfully rare but giddily wide smile spreading across your face.

unbeknownst to you, umemiya's grin dropped, lips falling slightly ajar– awe and warmth settling into his bones as that became the day he became fully entranced with you.

studying with umemiya was always fun– sort of. you're not sure what to think of when your back hits your chair and his hands thread through your hair and push the strands away from your profile so delicately as if that's gonna soften the fact that you're desperately kissing him in an abandoned classroom when you should be studying for your exams.

"i'm sorry," umemiya muttered in between kisses, though the apologies fell on deaf ears as you tightened your embrace around his shoulders and pulled him back. "i'm distracting you, aren't i?"

the contradiction made you giggle into his lips– he was so gentle, yet so desperate to kiss you. it was funny to see how gently he treated your hair when his own styled hair was disheveled after you ran your fingers through the strands.

"are you going to stop?" you asked, panting as you pinched his cheeks with a teasing smile. umemiya, who was standing before you, shook his head– like a puppy, you thought, though he did have the decency to be a bit sheepish– before leaning back against the desk.

"man, what ever will i do if i fail my exams?" you suddenly cried out dramatically, casting a hand against your face. "what will i do if my parents catch me getting seduced by–," you gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at umemiya, who made a scandalized gasp right on cue, clutching at his jacket, "–a teenage boy?!"

"wow, what a dilemma!" umemiya shouted, matching your melodrama as he thoughtfully feigned pressing his hands against his heart. "however– i think i have a solution!"

"and what might that be?" you asked, barely keeping endeared giggles at bay as you hooked your feet around his ankles and lightly pulling at him as to prompt him. "what miraculous conclusion have you come to, ume?"

"if your parents ask about that boy you're studying with," umemiya smirked, tapping your nose fondly with his index finger, "just tell them i'm your study buddy."

sure, you guys broke out into a fit of giggles, but isn't that the truth? you are, in fact, a pair of study buddies.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! If it's not too much trouble, can I request more yandere overlord, but different from Flower of Nazarick and Madame Butterfly?

Like, Reader was one of 41 members of the guild and was a close friend to Ainz (maybe like a childhood friend?). But unlike Ainz who got summoned to the New world, reader died and was reincarnated, but as a human (though they still have most of their abilities and skills for yggdrasil).

Reader hears rumors about a nation of monsters that sound an awful like Nazarick and decides to see if they truly are the same.

They run into Ainz dressed as Momon by accident and immediately recognizes Nabe as one of the six pleiades battle maid and accidentally calls her by her actual name.

A Friend Reborn | Yandere Overlord

“Nabaral! It’s you!” 

Momon and the battle maid are on high alert

While it isn’t a huge deal that her real name is heard it’s alarming that someone even knew that

Ainz mentally begs Nabaral not to draw her sword on this random human running full-force

“Nabie! Oh stars it’s good to see a familiar face.”

“M-m-my Supreme Being!!?!” 

She’s not crying, you are

She will happily let you hug her as she basks in the pressure from your power

When you finally do look away from her after checking over her heavily blushing form

“So who is this gentleman?”

He quickly excuses himself from the public eye dragging you and a wobbly lovestruck Nabarel away 

Finally alone he picks you up

Now he remembers

It’s you!

Sweet and squishy you

He hugs you tightly but not too tight

“Uh, nice to meet you too stranger.”

He poofs off his helmet and opens his skeletal mouth in a mock smile

“Momon!?” 

“(Y/n)!”

He doesn’t care that he’s using your real name either

He finally found someone

And perfectly its you

Since he’s woken up here he’s desperately been searching for his friends you

The only motivation for conquering the world with the forces of Nazarick

He’ll find that you can still do most of the things your player character used to do

But you hunger, you thirst, and you adorably get sleepy when you occasionally use your higher-level powers

And he just can’t let you leave now

Even if you promise you enjoy a farmers life

He waits for you to retire

Lifting your light and vulnerable body with his hands 

He immediately transports you to Nazarick

Tucking you in his bedroom before calling all the guardians to his side

He tells them the good news first

That another player has been found 

The entirety of Nazarick shakes with euphoria, desperately wanting to celebrate

But Ainz delivers the bad news too

That you are now human

Cursed with the lowest form of being in their hierarchy with 

your wisdom and power trapped inside such a fragile form

So depending on how Ainz screws up informing the guardians two lines of thought can be had

One: is that since you are human you need their protection more than ever and your safety and well being take precedence over everything

Or Two: That the disease of humanity has afflicted you and that they must do everything they can to cure it without injuring such a weak body

The second makes it harder for the guardians to respect you 

But both demand your safety 

Both demand your comfort

And both demand the interest of the guardians and workers of Nazarick who have been dying to adore you