#like a) the low reading comprehension makes me laugh

[ruvi-muffin]

Hey hey hey

Just don't like... accidentally call autistic ppl stupid for "not having reading comprehension" when in fact, i read it, and took it litterally.

My bad. It's on my medical record i do that sometimes.

[muntitled]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"

Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.

Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3

As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.

While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.

The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.

"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.

Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.

"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"

Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.

"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"

"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boy’s face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.

"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"

Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers “Yes Sir-”

Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.

Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.

He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so

"Where are you taking me?"

You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.

You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.

Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.

That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.

"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.

"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"

You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.

The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.

"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.” Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.

“That's what this is then?” You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, “I'm being scolded now?”

“You're insolent when given any orders,” he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, “You disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.”

“How clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.” You say with a smirk, “Clever, Clever boy."

“It's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.” Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.

“I have grown terribly bored of this place,” You say, “Perhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.”

Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.

"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"

"I've no time for this-"

The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.

You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.

You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.

And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.

Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.

"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"

And then, a very strange thing occurs.

Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.

The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.

"How completely and utterly curious-"

"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.

"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"

"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"

Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.

"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"

You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.

"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.

“Today's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"

"I-I-”

Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.

"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.

You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.

"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.

"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.

Yet here you were.

"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.

You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.

"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.

"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-

"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.

"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.

"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"

Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.

"You're nothing but fucking filth-"

Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.

"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"

You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"

And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.

"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.

"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.

"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"

He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.

"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"

But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.

"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.

Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.

Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.

[glitch-karma]

Can I request another part of your "forgetful reader" headcanons you did but with Jouno, Fyodor, and Ranpo? Nikolai too if that's not too many characters, but dont worry about him if it is. Same prompt but with these characters

I was actually just thinking about my forgetful reader hc's the other day, Idk if other writers do this but I always go back and read my older stuff lmao

So here's part two, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what Nikolai would give his partner as a gift, so that isn't specified, I did add Chuuya and Sigma though

Cw: Degradation/name calling in Jouno's, Slightly spicy in Fyodor's, Kinda OOC Fyodor

Jouno

Low-key high-key an asshole

Don't get me wrong I'm in love with him,

But his love language is degradation (hot)

Jouno constantly is making fun of and being rude about how forgetful you are

If it seriously bothers you, he'll try his best to lay off as much as possible

Only because it's you though

He does get very irritated though

He got you a lovely set of earrings that resembled his a bit

They were honestly very nice and semi-expensive

You had always kept them in a tiny jewelry box on your nightstand

But after a rough day of trying to catch terrorists, you'd clumsily taken them off and fallen asleep

When you were getting ready for work the next morning, you realized they'd gone missing

In a panic, you tore apart your apparent in search of them

After a while, you heard a voice that made you wanna puke

"What's up with you huh? Why's my little troublemaker so frantic?"

Oh my lord no

"What are you talking about.?"

"Oh please, your heartbeat is a dead giveaway. Along with the shakiness in your voice. Can't hide from me y'know."

You shakily sighed as you admitted you'd lost the earrings

"Pft- are you kidding?"

He laughed slightly walking towards you

"How pathetic of you, losing a gift from your precious boyfriend?" He sighs in 'frustration'

"They were expensive too, do you even have a concept of money?" He laughs,

At this point, small drops of tears filled your eyes slowly as he kept poking fun at you

"Honestly how air-headed can you get? Tsk, should I be questioning this relationship?"

After a few seconds of silence, Jouno tensed as he heard your quiet whimpers.

He'd gone too far.

For a second, he didn't really know what to do

He sighed, bending down next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"'m sorry." He mumbled lightly

You sniffled a bit, you looked up to see the concerned frown on his face, along with the softness that was rare for you to see in him

After a moment you sighed, leaning into his shoulder

"I'll get you a million more pairs if it means I don't have to hear you cry again. Truly."

He really was a good man, he just had some issues showing it.

But in the meantime, he'll let you teach him how to open up

I literally love him so much even if he's a dick head

Fyodor

He kinda just doesn't care-

I don't see him as the type to really mind stuff like that in a partner

But I don't really see him doing anything to help per se

He'll give you light reassurance if you're upset, but I don't see him doing too much more though

Surprisingly, he didn't buy you a country

He got you a necklace that was very clearly expensive, it had a key attached to it that was also made of some metal that did not look cheap, along with the small Diamonds and sapphires lacing the key (Real btw you tested it)

It was extravagantly expensive, and he made sure you knew that was less than you deserved (He couldn't find countries on the market)

Wow what a nice gift

Now where the hell did it go?

You, of course, retraced every step

Your apartment? Cleaned vigorously to search and find it

The cafe by your house? You paid every worker to search for it

The Doa office? A wreck

You were ass up on the floor looking under one of the couches when you heard a whistle behind you

When you tuned you saw the man you were scared to see

"Why might you be in such a comprehensive pose my paradox?"

You shakily sighed as you hit your head on the floor

Fyodor then quickly determined why you were on the floor by the necklace missing from your neck

He chuckled a bit as he walked towards you

He leaned down and picked you up, silencing you as he carried you to a basement you were unaware of

Before you could question, he pulled out the necklace, inserted the key into a large door, opening it to reveal a giant glorious room filled with all your favorite things, comfortable chairs, and a giant kitchen

As he set you down you started freaking out

"It's not quite done yet, I wasn't intending for you to lose it so fast. I'll get some help in here as well."

"You- This was all a plan for me?"

You yelled, running around and looking at everything

He chuckled as he grabbed you, leaning down and kissing your neck

"Жизнь моя,(1) you deserve this and more.."

He then threw you on the couch, hitting a button that shut all the doors and windows

"And tonight, I'll prove it to you."

Let's just say, you had trouble walking for awhile

(1) Жизнь моя, pronounced "Zhizn’ moya", means “my life” in Russian and is usually a term of endearment

Sigma

Oh my lord he is so understanding it's crazy

Although Sigma is the furthest thing from forgetful, his brain and schedule will always have room for stuff you need to remember

Got a doctor's appointment you forgot? He remembers and brings you to it

Forgot where you put something important? He knows where it is

Forgot to eat? He'll make you a meal himself

Forgot to meet up with a client? He'll meet them for you

Honestly, he gives you royalty treatment

He loves just giving you gifts in general, so he custom-made you an obsidian necklace that had a poker chip on it, The obsidian in his words was to represent how strong you are, and the poker chip was to remind you of him

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts ever

And you'd lost it

You debated just asking him at first,

But no. Too embarrassing

You'd worn it every day and now POOF

GONE?!

You didn't wanna worry your already busy partner with this

So you tore apart your half of the room before neatly searching through Sigma's half of the room

3 hours later and nothing.

For a second you debated throwing yourself off the sky casino

But then the click of your bedroom door was heard

"Oh my-"

You slowly looked up to see Sigma's confused face as he looked at your side of the room

For a while, he was silent in thought

"Are you.. redecorating-"

You groaned as you fell the rest of the way down on the floor

"I lost your necklace.. I didn't wanna ask you for help."

Sigma chuckles a bit as you look up at him

"That was actually my mistake"

Before you could ask, he walked over to his dresser and opened a small box, pulling it back out

"You'd accidentally left it in the bathroom"

Wow

The one place you didn't check

Definitely cuddles after though

Nikolai

He would not give zero shit's

He just loves you

He might make fun of you a bit, but he honestly just thinks you're adorable when you lose stuff

He asks Fyodor to buy you new things when you lose them rather than look for them-

He has such admiration and genuine interest in you that he gets you gifts tailored exactly to your interests

If you lose a gift from him, he honestly won't be mad

"Awe my Kindred Spirit,"

He grabs his cloak and reaches in, pulling out something even better

"Here does this make it better!?"

"Nikolai!"

He dances around the room with you to celebrate you being happy again

Ranpo

Oh he teases you, shame on you if you think he wouldn't

He gently teases you though, stopping if he gets even a slight hint it upsets you

Ranpo does have amazing patience though, there has never been a moment your forgetfulness has annoyed or bothered him once

He regularly gives you snacks as gifts, but he gave you a silly little necklace with a duck charm (Yes this is a Wan ref)

It was silly and cheap, but it was sweet

When you lost it you were crushed

You looked for it but could not find it

In the morning you went to the agency to try to search for it, but on your way there you actually met with Ranpo at a sweet store

"Hey there detective darlin'!"

He yelled as he ran out of the store

For internally freaked out a bit as he started excitedly telling you about the sale in the store

You chuckled nervously, making him immediately deduce what happened

"Ohhhhh, I see. You lost the Necklace!"

You kinda expected him to figure it out

He then chuckled as he walked over to a small quarter vending machine and pointed at the prizes

"Ya see! We can just keep playing till we get a new one!"

You two then had a small date of finding quarters and playing the Machine till you had a bag full of prizes, and a new duck necklace of course

Chuuya

Although Chuuya is a very understanding person, I can't deny this wouldn't slightly annoy him

He would never make fun of you for it, or make you feel bad though

He will always express that he's not mad at you and does his best to hide his slight frustration

He does understand though, I mean the man didn't remember the first 8 years of his life for years so

He is a little protective of you though. if anyone gave you shit for forgetting something he would a million percent throw hands

He leaves notes all over the house and your hands about important things, he will also text you to remind you about meals throughout the day

"Have you drank water"

"Ah, fuck-"

"Exactly"

Chuuya loves spending money on you

It's his favorite activity

You already have 20 custom-tailored outfits cause of his love for fashion,

But that doesn't mean he can't get you more tailored accessories

One of them was an anklet that had his and your initials in it, along with diamonds and your favorite stone

It was cute, although it was easily hidden by clothes, you wore it very often

You had on the perfect outfit to show it off that day, but when you opened up the cabinet you kept it in, it was gone.

Oh fuck

Panic ensues

The sheets were torn off your bed, and your closet full of clothes from him was searched from top to bottom

The bathroom was also searched along with Chuuya's half of the room

You sighed as you fixed the house, knowing Chuuya hates messes

You then reluctantly called him

"Hey, still at work but what's up doll?"

The softness in his voice made you tear up a bit in guilt

"Chuuya.. I-"

You took a pause to breathe

"I lost the Anklet you gave me."

You heard him gratefully sigh and shuffle in his chair a bit

"That pause made me think you were in trouble"

He joked a bit

"I can buy 20 more of those if I wanted to Sweetheart."

You sniffled a bit

"But that was important!"

He paused a bit

"Are you crying?"

You then paused

"No.."

"Baby."

You could hear him then walk through the halls of the Port Mafia building

"Give me just one sec, "

You heard him then knock on a door and open it

"Hey boss, I need to head home early. Let me know Tomorrow if there's anything else you need me for"

"Alright, I'm on my way home. We'll search together, okay?"

You sniffled a little as you smiled

"You're the best."

"Anything for you Angel."

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 3

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, missionary, references to rape, dub-con, dom!beomgyu, sub!reader

You’ve decided you were overthinking everything. Your dreams mean nothing. Your dream about Taehyun meant nothing. It was just your stressed brain being weird. Though it was awkward being around him for a couple of days after that dream and feeling that inexplicable feeling of guilt and—you’d never say it outloud–love springs up your throat every time your eyes meet.

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to think about it too much today when there is something much more distracting to deal with. 

"What's with your eye?” You ask Taehyun, noting the eyepatch he was wearing. “Is it a stye?" 

He shakes his head, grinning as he pulls the eyepatch aside to reveal a black eye. You gasp. "Oh my god! Did you get in a fight?"

"You could say that.” He shrugs, grin still in full effect. “I'm a wrestler."

“Oh. That is… not shocking.” You frown, making him laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to be the type.” You say as you give him a once over. Despite his sweet and innocent looks, he had a kind of roughness about him that gave him away. “Yesterday when you were helping me with the door of the back room, you nearly ripped it off its hinges.” 

“You said it was stuck so I expected more resistance. I just didn’t account for your chicken arms.” He teases, making you gasp, affronted. “How dare you? Check out these guns.” 

You pull up the sleeves of your shirt, flexing said chicken arms in various wrestler poses. “I bet I can even take you, Mr. fighter.” 

“I bet you can.” Something about the way he says that, low and a little hoarse brings a blush to your cheeks, a certain double entendre you’re not sure he meant hanging in the air, but you decide to just barrel past it. You can’t let your stupid brain keep overthinking the smallest things. You refuse to let in that weird sense of intimacy and familiarity that your dreams have conjured up seep into your reality and your relationship with him. You’re purely coworkers, maybe tentative friends, nothing more.  

“Damn right.” You declare, satisfied. “Now let me take a look at that eye. My mother is a nurse, you know?”

“Is she?” He sits down obediently, letting you examine his eye closely. You start by making sure the eye itself isn’t hurt and that his vision is clear, getting him to follow your finger to test his eye movements and making him read a few things at a distance, before you move on to the possible brain injury. “You didn’t pass out, did you?”

“No.”

“Did you vomit?”

“Nope.” 

“Had any seizures?”

“No.” 

“Do you remember everything?” 

“I wish I didn’t.” He snorted. “Damn bastard floored me with that punch.” 

You wince as you imagine that kind of impact that would bring him down and cause such a black eye. Instinctively, you reach forward to brush your thumb gently under his bruised eye. “Aw, does it hurt?” 

“It feels better now.” He smiles, looking at you strangely, and your heart skips a beat. Okay, surely you’re not just imagining this, are you? Your brain can’t be that much of an asshole. 

But before you can attempt to make sense of the way he’s acting, an angry voice cuts through the delicate moment savagely.  

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your boyfriend’s voice is like ice water down your back, making you jump away from Taehyun immediately. You turn to him in shock.“Beomgyu! What are you doing here?” 

“Checking in on you, but I’ve clearly arrived at the wrong time.” He spits, eyeing Taehyun angrily, and you quickly realize the source of the misunderstanding, waving your hands in the air in denial, trying to dispel whatever erroneous conclusions you’re sure his mind came up with. Damn it, it’s bad enough dealing with Beomgyu’s jealousy without you unintentionally feeding it. “It’s nothing. I was just checking his black eye. He got injured at a match.” 

“He’ll get another one if he doesn’t step away from you.” Beomgyu threatens and you hear Taehyun snort from next to you. “Yeah, right. As if you could ever land a punch on me.” 

Goddammit, Taehyun. You’re trying to de-escalate things here!

“Wanna see?” Beomgyu growls, rising up to the challenge immediately and charging forward. But you quickly step between him and Taehyun, not wanting a fight to break out in the middle of your workplace. 

"Beomgyu calm down. You’re making a scene." You whisper, noticing how the customers' eyes have turned to you. But of course, Beomgyu doesn’t care, his anger and jealousy getting the best of him. "Am I? I'm sorry, should I wait for you to fuck him on the counter first?"

Humiliation sears your skin at his accusation, said so loudly and easily in front of your coworkers and everyone in the shop. You’re so embarrassed you could cry, but that would only humiliate you further. So you quickly grab his arm and pull him out the back and into the alleyway behind the cafe where no one can see you. 

You can’t believe he’s doing this again. He promised he will get himself under control. You’ve tried to reassure him that you only love him. You’ve tried again and again to put boundaries when he acts out, but then he completely crashes through them with no regard for you. Why should he when you always forgive him and take him back after his abhorrent behavior? It’s your fault. You’ve allowed him to go this far and now he’s out of control. You need to put an end to this.  

"I'm done. This is over. I'll come around later to get my stuff." You tell him, and his whole demeanor changes–all wrath is gone from his face and he turns into a wounded animal in the blink of an eye, shaking his head in denial as his eyes flood with tears. "No. No. You can't leave me. Not again."

"What the fuck are you talking about?” You shout harshly, and he flinches. God, why does that still make you feel bad despite everything he’s done to you? “I never left you. Maybe that's the problem."

“No, please, I'm sorry!” He wails, "I'm sorry I blew up. I'm sorry I made a scene. I just can’t stand to see him with you. I know he wants to take you from me."

His unwarranted conviction drives you mad. Does he really think every single guy is out to steal you from him? "You are insane."

 Another guy would take the hint and dial it down on the crazy, but not Beomgyu. As if to prove that insanity to you, he falls to his knees at your feet, grabbing onto your legs tightly. "Don't leave me. I can't live without you."

"Go home, Beomgyu.” You grit out, trying to hold yourself back from falling for his pathetic display because truthfully you’re just as pathetic as him. It’s easy to be stern and immovable when he’s angry and lashing out, but it’s another thing entirely when he acts so vulnerable. When he’s angry, he’s an asshole who is hurting you, but when he’s sad, he’s your loving boyfriend who just needs reassurance and care. 

"I can't. Not without you.” He insists, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I need space, Beomgyu.” 

“You know I can’t–” 

“I need space to calm down and forget what you've done so I won't leave you." You snap, finally making him take his hands off you, realizing that though it kills him, backing off for once might be the thing that saves your relationship this time. 

Still he needs that extra reassurance. “Do you promise you won’t leave?” 

“Beomgyu–”

“Please!” He hiccups, hanging onto the thread of hope. “Please promise me that you won’t just leave.” 

“I won’t.” You grits out. You can’t. You wish it was ever that fucking easy to leave him, but he’s got you hooked on him good. 

"Okay." He gets up shakily. "Can I have a kiss?"

Does he not know how to quit? Has he no sense of awareness of the situation? Can’t he tell how much he has pushed you? "No."

You try to be firm in your decision, try to make him take you seriously once and for all, but when you see him sniffle and his lips tremble, it’s hard to stay strong. 

"Please. Just in case." He shakes under your harsh gaze that softens every time his breath hitches as he tries to hold himself together. 

God, this is exactly why he behaves this way, because it always works. 

You grab him by the back of the head, kissing his lips roughly, more teeth than anything, biting down on his lower lip in punishment, hard enough to taste blood, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. He clutches onto you desperately, opening his mouth up for you to thrust your tongue inside, making him taste his own blood. 

It’s a job to get him off you, but eventually you manage to disentangle yourself from him. “Go home now.” 

“Will you come home after work?” He prods, and you run your hand through your hair in frustration. “Is this giving me space?” 

“I just–” 

“I’ll be home by bedtime. I’ll probably walk around or hang out with friends to decompress.” You explain to him, even though you know you really shouldn’t. He has no right to know where you’re going, not after the shit he just pulled but you know he won’t leave you if you don’t reassure him. 

“Which friends? Are you going to–” 

“I have to get back to work, Beomgyu.” You cut him off sharply, unwilling to give him more. Truthfully, you don’t even know what you’ll do. You don’t know if you even wanna hang out with your friends. You can’t handle them telling you ‘I told you so’ for the hundredth time and pushing you to break up with Beomgyu. “I know you want me to get fired so I only have time for you but I actually wanna keep this job.”

He winces at your accusation but you don’t wait for him to defend himself, turning your back on him and walking into the coffee shop. 

Getting back into work is mortifying as you try to dodge the gazes of others that are at best curious and at worst judgmental and accusatory. Most of all, you try to avoid Taehyun, not knowing what to say to him after he witnessed your boyfriend’s outburst against him. 

But it’s hard to hide in such a small shop, and Taehyun is on you just a few minutes after stepping back inside. To your surprise however, he isn’t angry or reproachful. In fact, he doesn’t mention it directly at all.

“Hey you wanna blow off some steam after work?” He asks you, completely casual and you breathe a sigh of relief, nodding. You really could use some stress relief. You know you can’t go home to Beomgyu like this. You’re so mad you’re afraid you’ll do or say something you regret. 

What worries you even more is that you think whatever you would do to him, Beomgyu would take it, and you don’t want to be that person. You don’t want to perpetuate this sickness. 

________________________________

Taehyun takes you boxing. It’s definitely a bit unusual but when he said it would help you blow off some steam, he wasn’t kidding. 

“Hit it harder. Take out all your rage onto it.” Taehyun instructs you, then adds cheekily, “Imagine it’s your boyfriend’s face if you need to.” 

You scoff. If Beomgyu was here, he’d definitely lose it with how close Taehyun is to you, his hands fluttering between your waist and shoulder to correct your position, and wrapping around your arms to teach you how to correctly swing. 

“Like that?” You ask, punching the bag the way he taught you to. You’re not strong enough to have it swinging like he does, but he still praises you for doing it right. 

“Yup, good job. Soon enough you’ll be able to deck Beomgyu in the face.” He jokes and you send him a glare. 

“I don’t want to punch Beomgyu.” You say, delivering another hard swing at the punching bag, putting your full weight into it. 

“Are you sure about that?” He raises his eyebrows, watching you pummel the bag. 

“I’m just frustrated.” You grit, raining punches with both fists until you feel your arms getting sore. “Why does he have to act like such an asshole? He knows I love him. He knows he’s the only one for me. Why is he so insecure? He’s such a fucking idiot. He makes me so goddamn mad!”

You step away from the bag, panting for breath. Clumsily, you push away the sweaty hair out of your face with the gloves still on as you try to calm down your overheated body. “You’re right. This did help.” 

You give the bag one last punch before you take off the boxing gloves and slump onto a chair, exhaustion settling into your bones. You hear Taehyun snicker as he takes your place and starts his exercise. 

You watch him workout. You admit, he looks good doing it. Dressed in a white sleeveless top, his muscles bulge and tense every time his arms shoot forward to smack the bag. The look of concentration on his face and the way his jaw clenches makes him look all the hotter. 

His punches are fast and accurate, and you cringe a bit at the idea of someone being at the receiving end of them, but you still find it attractive. You never got the appeal of the strong, macho man some girls swoon over, always preferring the soft cute types yourself, but watching Taehyun go to town on that punching bag, sweat starting to drip down his glistening skin… you finally get it. 

Apparently, your ogling wasn’t as subtle as you thought, especially when Taehyun pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing his hard abs to your curious eyes. 

“Like what you see?” Taehyun smirks, dropping the shirt back down and you blush, looking away. “Bet he doesn’t look like this.” 

“Shut up.” You grumble, standing up. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?” 

You realize how dry your throat has become and take it as an advantage to get out of this messy situation you’ve gotten yourself in. But Taehyun shakes his head. “You stay put. I’ll go get the drinks.” 

You graciously accept the offer, telling him what you’d like to have, and he dips out of the practice room to get you something out of the vending machine and you take the opportunity to cool off. 

God, what is wrong with you? Do you like Taehyun? Why the fuck are you thirsting like that over him? Ever since you’ve gotten with Beomgyu, you can honestly say you’ve never wanted to be with another man. Beomgyu just fulfilled all your needs, emotionally and physically. Being with him felt like finally finding your other half, your soul’s resting place. It’s cliche but it truly felt like you were made for each other. How can anyone else compare? 

But now that his jealousy and controlling behavior has gotten out of control, you find yourself pulling away from him, the illusion of the perfect one for you slowly shattering by his own hand. Is that why you’re having these weird feelings towards Taehyun? Like Beomgyu, you feel like you’re connected to Taehyun somehow. Despite the relatively short duration you’ve known him, it feels like you’ve known each other for years. You yearn for him in a way you have no control over and you don’t like it. You’re just proving Beomgyu right with his unhinged paranoia. 

Seriously, fuck Beomgyu for putting these thoughts into your head. You were completely fine with Taehyun before he made a big deal out of nothing. 

When Taehyun comes back, he hands you a can of soda and you gladly pop it open, gulping down the cool liquid with relief. 

“So when did you start boxing?” You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his Adam's apple bops as he swallows. 

“Since I was a kid basically.” He shrugs, explaining further at your questioning look. “I didn’t have the best home life and boxing helped me blow off some steam and got me away from it for a bit.”

“Ah.” You hum awkwardly, twirling the can in your hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve left it behind now, trying to make a life of my own. That is why I was so glad that you told me about the job at the cafe. It’s a chill job that allows me to make some money to support myself and still be able to pursue my studies.” 

“Right. Music. Didn’t peg you for that guy. I mean, boxing sure but didn’t think you’re the artistic type.” You grin, feeling a bit giddy at his faux offended look. 

“Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He defends, “And I’ve been told I have the voice of an angel.” 

“Someone's humble.” You laugh, and he shrugs. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.” 

“Let’s hear it then, angel.” 

He gives you a look at that, and you open your mouth to apologize, not sure if you’d crossed a line, but then he coughs, clearing his throat a bit and starts to sing. 

I know that sweet love song

The words we said through our oath

If I turn around, eventually

They'll just end up being an unfamiliar someone

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I want to run away, far away

My heart is already chasing after you

And burning with small embers

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I don't believe anymore in being romantic

As my entire heart burns

I'm afraid that only black ashes will remain

He really does have the voice of an angel, so sweet and soothing. You listen quietly to the whole song, a small smile on your face despite the song’s pessimistic message. But something about his voice tugs at a distant memory in your brain, the feeling like a word on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t quite remember. It’s a disquieting feeling that clashes with the sweet honey of his voice. 

You don’t let it show though. You know he wouldn’t understand. And once he’s done singing, you clap enthusiastically. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” He graciously accepts the applause, a pleased grin on his face. 

“Wonderful. Showstopping. Angelic.” You pour out exaggeratedly and he laughs. “I told you.” 

“You did.” You admit, no point teasing him about his cockiness when you like his voice so much. “I never heard that song before. Did you write it yourself?” 

“Yup.” 

“Now I get how you’re into music if your songs are this dejected.” But you can tease him about the subject matter. You’re impressed with his talent but if you had to come up with a song that Taehyun would compose, it would’ve sounded exactly like this. 

“I’m just being a realist.” He tells you and you cock your head to the side, intrigued. “You don’t believe in romance?”

“No. I’ve seen how it goes too many times and it always ends in heartbreak and tears at best.” 

You frown, finding it sad that his experiences have made him arrive at this bleak conclusion. “It’s not always like that. Some people have happy relationships.” 

“Yeah, do you know of anyone who has an actually happy relationship?”He challenges and you wrack your brain trying to think of one. Your parents? Definitely not. Your sisters? Nope. Your friends? Hah. Still, you refuse to admit it. You’re a hopeless romantic and you refuse to accept his cynical worldview. If love only ever ends in heartbreak then what even is the point of living? “Just because the people I know aren’t the poster children for happy relationships doesn’t mean there are none.” 

“Are you even happy with Beomgyu?” He prods, catching you off guard. 

You were. Things were perfect between you. He was the best boyfriend you could have ever wished for at the beginning. He was so sweet and loving and gentle, being with him felt like coming home, but slowly things started to unravel until it got to the point you’re at right now and you’re too scared to admit that things may never go back to the way they were before. If Beomgyu isn’t the one for you then who is? 

“Shut up and sing more.” You grumble, not wanting to think about it anymore.

Taehyun grins, not pushing anymore, satisfied with his win, and obliges you. He sings a couple more songs for you, each of his own making, and you eagerly listen to him, closing your eyes and getting lost in the warmth of his voice, asking for more every time he finishes. 

He doesn’t complain, performing a mini-concert for you, helping soothe your nerves as you try to focus on his soothing voice and forget about the troubles you’ve been going through with Beomgyu and your confusing feelings for Taehyung.

But all the tension ricochets back into your body when he gets to the fourth song, the small smile you were wearing plummets into a frown and you sit up from your slumped position suddenly. You don’t know what it is about this song. It appears to be a simple lullaby, but just hearing it makes your heart hammer in your chest. 

Taehyun notices quickly and stops singing. “What’s wrong?” 

“Did you make up that song too?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No, it’s a song my mum used to sing me when I was a kid. Why?”

“I don’t know, something about it seems familiar.” You trail off, eyebrows furrowing as you try to recall where you heard it before. 

“I doubt it. My mum made it up.” He says, confused by your sudden change in mood. 

You’re confused too. You don’t understand. You just have this intense feeling of deja vu right now, something you’ve been feeling increasingly more frequently lately. Maybe you heard it in a dream? 

You shake your head, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and needing comfort, needing Beomgyu… “Never mind. I should probably get going.” 

You’re mad at him but he’s still the biggest source of comfort for you. He has a way to calm you down even if he’s the one who caused your anxiety. It all works out when it’s just the two of you. It’s only when other people get involved that everything falls apart…

“Already?” Taehyun asks, disappointed, and you look at the clock that says 10:46 pm and sigh. “Yeah. Beomgyu is probably freaking out by now. Even more than he already was.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to him then. You need some proper time away to think things through. You can’t let him keep getting away with this behavior.” He advises, his expression betraying his clear distaste for Beomgyu. Great, another friend who despises your boyfriend. You can’t deal with this right now. 

“He’s just insecure.” You find yourself defending him once again, feeling weary and covering your face with your hands. “I don't know why. it's not like every guy that ever meets me will fall in love with me. You don't even like me.” 

"I do like you." Taehyun says simply and you snap your head up and gape at him. "What?"

He shrugs as if this doesn’t fuck everything up even more. "I like you and I think you deserve better than your shitty boyfriend."

You shake your head, standing up, feeling angry at yourself. Of course, he likes you. Beomgyu smelled it from a mile away. Why else would he be so nice to you? Why else would he care so much to hang out with you and calm you down when he’s probably tired from his shift? This was obviously a mistake and you’re a stupid girl who is playing into it while your boyfriend is probably breaking down at home. "Beomgyu is a good boyfriend. He loves me." 

Taehyun stands up too, getting a bit forceful now. “You’re deluding yourself. What he’s doing isn’t healthy, and he’ll only continue to get worse because you let him.” 

What does he know? How do you know he’s not just trying to break you up with your boyfriend so he could get with you? Beomgyu probably could tell that Taehyun liked you from the start and that’s why he was so averse to you being around him. Obviously that doesn’t excuse how out of pocket he acted today but he still wasn’t completely wrong. 

“I should go.” You mutter, quickly gathering your things. 

“Let me take you home then.” He offers and you snort. Yeah right, like that wouldn’t make Beomgyu’s brain melt. 

“I'll just take an uber.” 

Taehyun attempts to argue but you shut him down. 

_____________________________

Beomgyu is waiting near the door when you get back, curled up onto himself as he rocks back and forth, looking like a broken mess, and your heart can’t help but clench painfully at the miserable sight of him despite everything he’s done. You can’t bear to see him hurt, especially knowing that Taehyun liked you after all and he wasn’t being totally paranoid. 

"You're back!" He stops rocking and untangles his arms from his body. You see the tension in his body, like he wants to spring forward and take you in his arms but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. "I thought I lost you." 

"I'm right here." You sigh, opening your arms up, giving him the signal he needed to stand up and engulf you in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, baby–” He begins his long plea. You’ve heard it many times by now–he’s sorry he acted irrationally, he’s sorry he gets jealous and out of control, he promises he’ll do better– but you’re honestly not in the mood for it right now. You just want to pretend none of this happened tonight, least of all because you feel some kind of guilt over hanging out alone with Taehyun and letting him touch you when he secretly had feelings for you just like Beomgyu was afraid of. 

“Shut up, Beomgyu.” You grab his face and kiss him. 

He lets you do it. Beomgyu would never reject a kiss from you, but once your bruising kiss leaves his lips and travels to his jaw, he voices his concern. “Are you sure, princess? Don’t you wanna t-talk about it?” 

Princess? He’s bringing out the big guns. There is no use arguing with Beomgyu right now. You already know what he’s going to say so you bite down on his neck, making his breath hitch as your hands trail up his waist towards his nipples, rubbing them with your thumbs over the thin material of his shirt and making him gasp. “Just shut up and be good for once, Beomgyu. Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t even think about how mad I am at you right now.” 

You feel him gulp under your lips, and the next thing you know he is carrying you by your ass and dropping you onto the couch. He quickly takes off every shred of fabric on your body, following suit, before he gets on the ground in front of you and buries his face in your pussy. 

Beomgyu is a very talented lover, especially with his tongue. He knows exactly what to do to get you going, and right now is no different. He eats you out as if he can convince you to stay just by using his mouth, and you have to admit, it is very persuasive. 

“Fuck, Gyu. Good boy.” You praise, encouraging him to do more, your hand in his hair guiding his mouth to where you want him. He eagerly lets you control him, pushing his tongue into your pussy while his lips pucker and suck around your hole. 

You feel yourself clench around his tongue, more of your arousal leaking around it until it covers his chin and parts of his cheeks. You pull his head up, whining as his tongue slips out of your pussy, but he quickly relieves the feeling of emptiness by pushing his fingers inside you, curling them up to hit that sensitive spot inside you that has you keening. 

He wasn’t going to be slow tonight, and you don’t want that. You cry as his mouth finds a new target in your clit, alternating between sucking it in his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, all while his fingers plunge in and out of you until you’re creaming on his face. 

“That’s it! Fuck, that’s it, baby.” You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as your body shudders at the intense orgasm. Fuck, you needed this. 

Beomgyu doesn’t care about how hard you’ve got his hair fisted up in your hand. He keeps hungrily licking your pussy, not letting your arousal completely fade even as your orgasm passes. 

“Baby, wait, give me a second–” You gasp, feeling sensitive, and when Beomgyu pulls away you think he’ll give you break, but instead he pushes you down until you’re laying on your back on the couch and gets on top of you, lining his cock with your entrance 

“Wait–Beomgyu!” You cry as he shoves his cock inside of you, beginning to fuck you right away, not giving you a moment to breathe or calm down. 

“There you go, princess. Is this what you wanted?” He pants, hips slamming against yours as he fucks you roughly. 

It was what you wanted but you’re not sure now. You need a moment. “Baby, slow down…” You whine, your eyes squeezed tightly which Beomgyu doesn’t like. 

“Slow down? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you can’t think about how mad you are at me.” He taunts, slamming his hips against yours, his cock going so deep inside you you feel like you’re going to choke. Normally, you’d fucking love it but it’s suddenly too much for you. 

You shake your head, holding tightly onto his upper arms. “Please, baby, just slow down!”

But Beomgyu only fucks you harder. “Open your eyes, princess. Look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

“Beomgyu–” You beg but he seems too far gone, not realizing that you’re being serious. You feel a harsh smack against your thigh and he growls down at you. “Open your eyes.”  

You do, hardly seeing him with the tears in your eyes, but what you see scares you. “Gyu–”

“Am I fucking you hard enough? Or does my princess need me to fuck her dumb until she sees only me?” 

No, no. This is exactly what you asked for, but somehow it doesn’t feel good. The wildness of Beomgyu’s eyes, the roughness of his hands, don’t assure you of his need and devotion to you as always. Instead, they speak of a need to own, a desire to subjugate you or tear you apart. It fucking terrifies you. 

And suddenly, intrusive images come to mind. Images of bound limbs and golden suits, tears and anger. Images of Beomgyu forcing himself on you as you lie helpless and beg him to stop. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, shocked at what your mind is conjuring up. It’s not real but it feels real. You feel violated and scared and you just want it to stop. "Stop. Stop!"

“No. Don’t be a brat. You can take it.” Beomgyu chastises, still lost in his own head, the pleasure clouding his mind and not letting him see your pathetic state. 

“No. I can’t. Please. ” You sniffle, shaking your head weakly. 

“Don’t cry. You’ve made me wait so long for this pussy.” Prince Beomgyu drives his dick into you harder, making sure you’re fully deflowered.  "Take it. You were made for me. You can take it."

The images of prince Beomgyu looming over you just like he is right now, being so relentless and cruel as he takes what he wants from you are all you can see in front of you. It’s not a dream anymore. You’re wide awake, so why can you see them as if they were your own memories? God are you going crazy?

“Beomgyu?” You croak, trying to reach him through the images and his crazed headspace.

“I swear if you don’t shut the fuck up, I won’t bother being gentle.”

You quickly clamp your mouth shut at the ghostly threat, stopping any noise from getting out, stopping even your breathing, and that finally alerts Beomgyu to what is going on. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He stops moving and reaches out to touch you but you flinch. 

“Don’t touch me.” You cry, the damn breaking down and allowing tears to stream down your face. 

“What happened? Oh god. I didn’t know you were serious.” Beomgyu’s face goes pale and he looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Get off me. Get off me.” You wail, pushing him away. He pulls out of you but doesn’t get off, wrapping you in his arms and trying to get you to calm down. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. You’re okay. You’re okay. I love you.” He coos, trying to sound reassuring but you can hear the panic and fear in his voice as he cradles you and rocks you back at forth, not paying any mind to you clawing at his back as you try to break free, letting you sob and cry until you tire yourself out and slowly, slowly down. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re safe with me. I’ll never leave.” 

His words of reassurance fail to have the effect he desires. Instead of soothing you, you find them suffocating and inescapable. You feel like you’ve been here many times before, each time adding to the heaviness of that oppressive weight pushing down on you until you don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. You just fall limp in his arms, and he finally pulls back to look at you. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and swipes away the drying tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. I didn’t mean to.” 

"I’m sorry. I just…” Prince Beomgyu struggles to find the words for a second. “I had to do what I had to do to keep you.” 

You shiver, looking away from him. 

"What is it? What’s happening? What are you thinking?" He asks worriedly, wanting to get into your brain to figure out what caused your sudden breakdown, needing to know so he can convince you it’s nothing like he always does. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumble, monotone. You’re fucking exhausted and traumatized. You feel like you’ve been violated. You just want to go to sleep and not wake up. 

“Baby, please, just talk to me. I can fix it.” 

You glare at him. “Fix it? As if you’ve ever taken my concerns seriously. You’d just tell me it’s all in my head and–” You shut yourself up. You don’t want to talk to him about this. It hurts enough when he dismisses your dreams normally. It would fucking kill you if he made light of what you just experienced, even if it was all in your head.  

Surprisingly, in a move totally unlike him, Beomgyu relents. “I take you seriously. You don’t even know.” He says, head bowed sadly. “It’s you who doesn’t.”

What does that even mean? Is he talking about his jealousy over Taehyun? Yes, you admit he may have been right about that but there are many other things he was wrong about. But you don’t have the energy to get into it right now. 

“Take me to bed.”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, head bowed as he carries you in his arms and takes you to bed, putting you under the sheets and climbing in next to you. 

“I never want to hurt you.” He murmurs, taking you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. You shiver at his choice of words. 

Never wants to hurt you. Not is never going to hurt you. 

__________________________

A/N: lol I was supposed to do this early release on patreon but here is a surprise. as always i really appreciate any feedback. whenever I am going through hard times I keep reverting back to missing yamqn gyu and wishing for him to comfort him despite how objectively terrible he is :'D

once again

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 3 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

It's only a couple weeks later, when Goo hasn't seen you at lunch, when you haven't reprimanded him for his sloppy uniform, and not even said a word to him.

That's when it gets to him.

It's no surprise that you're scared. People like you are gutless and weak. Running away in the face of violence, not understanding and not wanting to understand how the grimy underbelly of the world works.

Goo was mistaken to think you could be interesting when you stood up to him on his first day about his uniform.

He hates being wrong.

.

.

Goo Kim doesn't have friends. 

Acquaintances at best, who know him at surface level but never more than that. He holds his cards too close to his chest to let anyone in.

You were never a friend, not by any stretch of the imagination.

He knows he pisses you off. Revels in it, in fact.

Still, it's a routine he had gotten used to. Only being human after all, and humans do like routine. He doesn't miss you, just needs to adapt his lunch times to something else.

Even as he considers this, he can't help wondering about you. 

What are you doing and where are you hiding.

Are you making any progress or still as dumb as ever. 

If you make your feelings of contempt with anyone else so obvious. 

He has seen the murderous glint in your eye when he points out your mistakes and it warms his heart.

.

.

Goo finds himself stealing glances at you when you're in classes together. It's far more exciting than listening to the teacher droning on.

Studies the shape of your back, the colour of your hair. Memorises the gait of your walk, not realising it's all seared into his brain until it's too late.

.

.

"Are you ok?"

Taking small, tentative steps, you approach Goo sitting on the sidewalk. Bodies scattered around him and him, for the first time since you've met, looking worse for wear.

Disoriented and blood trickling from his scalp, Goo can barely hear you over the ringing in his ears. You repeat yourself a few more times before he registers your presence.

Adrenaline still coursing through his veins and reacting automatically at the foreign presence seated besides him, he raises the baseball bat-

His body recognises you before his foggy brain can, movement stilling when he sees your eyes widening and you flinching, knowing there's no way you can move out the way and almost bracing for impact.

"Oh," Goo lowers the weapon, "It's you."

"It's me," you repeat pointlessly. He can hear the tremble in your voice.

With a sigh, he removes his glasses, cleaning them with his torn shirt. "What do you want?"

You think about how stupid your question is, considering what the scene looks like. But you ask once more, "Are you ok?"

Goo spits out a mouthful of blood and you wrinkle your nose. He gives you his trademark oily smile. "Princess, I'm A-OK!"

"Oh... that's good then." You want to facepalm your inane responses.

"Anyway," he places his glasses back on and pouts. Another typical Goo Kim expression. "Didn't I offend your delicate sensibilities the other week with my fighting?"

You bite your lip, considering your response. Then, realising there's no point in lying, "Not... offended. I-" you rack your brain to see if there was a way to make you sound any less of a coward but- "I'm scared of you."

"Shame. That hurts my feelings," Goo quickly moves on, realising there is the tiniest grain of truth in what was supposed to be a sarcastic statement and not knowing how to deal with that, "And we were starting to get so close."

"We were?!"

"You know," he peers over the top of his frames, "We could have really been something."

You start to stammer some sort of reply. Before you manage any comprehensible words, you're cut off by Goo's hyena laugh. A bit too loud and a bit too jarring though it is still good to hear again. You smile, and don't bother to hide it. 

Nevertheless, you're still worried about him.

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" 

"Princess, I'm good." 

Goo dusts off his knees, now fully recovered and stands up-

Your hand shoots out, grabbing onto his wrist and yanking him back down.

"Hold on," you rummage around your backpack, "I've got a first aid kit here. Let me patch you up at least."

Of course you have a first aid kit in your bag. Goo chuckles to himself, it just fits you so well.

He is uncharacteristically obedient and silent as you clean up the dried blood and scrapes, leaving him neatly bandaged.

It's the first time anyone has ever done this for him.

[frogsmulder]

From the ship number ask: M/K 46.

I’m already looking forward to what you’re going to come up with! 😋

46 …out of envy or jealousy.

He Works Alone

during sleepless krycek has a heated argument with mulder; 1.1k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic and @leonardbetts

read on ao3

Alex follows Mulder out of the morgue, playing catch up to the quick clip of his oxfords in the tiled floor. He jogs up to him before he can reach the double doors to the main hallway; his own footsteps an indignant outcry for Mulder to slow down which goes ignored. He finally gets him to listen with a hand to grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face him. There is a vexed look upon Mulder's face as if he had been persecuted before Alex could say a word. 

Wary, Alex takes a breath and tries yet fails to keep the bite from his voice. “Hey, so what was that in there?”

“What?” Mulder's eyes search his for clarification; almost the perfect picture of innocence. 

He shakes his head slowly, incredulously. “You and agent…”

“Scully?”

“Yeah,” he chuffs half a laugh. “Do you usually get your pathologists by special request?”

Mulder glances at the hand still on his shoulder and Alex retracts it suddenly feeling his palm grow clammy. Mulder levels a stare at him, a strange cocktail of warning and attempted comprehension. As the seconds pass, Alex is caught in the tide of his dark eyes and feels his mouth dry and his cheeks flame under the scrutiny. 

Mulder turns around and continues to walk before he answers, “She's just a friend; we used to work together.”

Alex stands his ground. “Just a friend, huh?”

The speed with which Mulder whips back around to point a finger almost stuns him. “What are you trying to say?”

Alex looks away and licks his lips. “Did you not see the way she looks at you, Mulder?”

“Careful there, you almost sound jealous.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Look, I don't care how you go about finding leads in this investigation; I know your methods are…”

“What?” Mulder steps closer. “Spooky?” His eyes dart darkly between both of his, searching. “Like I haven't heard that before. You'll have to try harder to insult me Alex.”

“I was gonna say unconventional–and I'm not trying to insult you. All I'm saying is I'd like to be kept in on this investigation.”

“You were there.” His voice scratches low and quiet, earnest. 

Alex squares up to him. “You were keeping such close quarters I didn't hear a thing you said!” he hisses. “Whispering? Like she was the only other person in the room? You had your backs turned to me; I couldn't even read your lips.”

Mulder scoffs, the hot air tickling Alex’s face. “Now this right here–” he jabs a finger into Alex’s sternum– “this is why I work alone.”

Emboldened, Alex leans into the contact, forcing Mulder back. “But you don't! You were working with agent Scully just fine!” A pause hangs between them; the silence only filled by his ragged breathing. Alex makes the mistake of looking down at Mulder's lips. He closes his eyes, restraining, yet the thought lies hot and heavy at the forefront of his prefrontal cortex. The thought dares him to lean forward but instead he backs away; his best attempt to break the tension. “Look, man, all I'm asking for is a chance.”

His shoulders are suddenly grasped firmly and Mulder’s accusatory whisper rings in his ears. “You are jealous, aren't you?”

Finally snapping, Alex shoves him against the wall, his arm to Mulder’s throat exercising every inch of his strength over him. He hesitates only briefly, questioning whether he is really going to do this but the flush to Mulder’s cheeks decides for him. He crushes his lips to Mulders’ coaxing the reaction he wants out of him, the one he knows is there somewhere buried beneath his love for that pathologist.

Surprised, Mulder reciprocates briefly before pushing Alex away to the middle of the corridor, leaving him stranded in the open. 

For the smallest of seconds, he is afraid Mulder will sock his jaw. He watches his taut body for any hint of what will happen next. His hands resting at his sides don't curl into fists but flex outwards as if trying to dispel a feeling harbouring there. 

Mulder then strides forward, taking Alex in one swift motion, pushing him to the other wall pressing his body to the brick. His tongue licks as teeth nip at Alex's lips and it's Alex's turn to gasp in surprise: a fatal mistake as Mulder closes in. Hand spread on Alex's chest, Mulder digs his fingers in. Alex can't stop his eyes rolling back and a groan in his throat as Mulder flexes his hips into his own. 

Grasping his slender hips, Alex turns them and drops to his knees, making quick work of the pants’ fastening. His own gut clenches and his heart pounds at being eye level with Mulder's crotch. He curls his fingers into the elastic of his boxers and yanks them down, freeing Mulder's burgeoning erection. In his hands, Mulder grows and against his lips he twitches. Alex looks up through dark eyelashes as he teases the head of Mulder's cock with his darting tongue.

He wraps his lips around his cock and sucks him deeper into his mouth, watching as Mulder's head tips back against the wall, his chin pointing upwards and his neck stretching gloriously, so that Alex can see his Adam's apple bob when he swallows. He hears every puff of air that passes Mulder's slack lips and imagines his eyes screwed shut in perfect agony. He takes his time, slowly teasing every inch of pleasure from him in a play for power that is intoxicating. He’s impressed with Mulder’s size, with his pretty cock; he’s seen plenty to know the difference and the way Mulder sits heavy on his tongue is a sweet satisfaction. He hums his appreciation as he watches it disappear beyond his lips.

Another hiss from Mulder and his hands are tugging in his hair, encouraging him to be quicker, harder, rougher. Alex brings a hand to the base of his cock, squeezing tightly while he digs the fingers of his other hand into his ass cheek, pulling him forward. Mulder’s grunt spurs him on. 

With a gasp, Mulder jerks his hips forwards as he comes, and Alex doubles down, taking everything he has. After licking his softening cock clean, Alex lets him hang open in the cool air, pulling on a cool mask of indifference over his emotions; as if the taste of his cum wasn’t still toying with his taste buds and his own heart wasn’t pounding in his chest all the way down to his own hardon that desperately begged attention. 

He stands and is face to face with Mulder, smirking at his flushed cheeks. Head still resting against the wall, Mulder looks back at him, panting, “I could have you reported, Krycek.”

“I may be a green agent, Mulder, but this isn't my first rodeo.” He wipes the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and then sucks it into his mouth salaciously, hollowing his cheeks for a punctuated effect. “I'll be back at the car when you need me.”

[damn-stark]

Chapter 11 Some sunny day

Chapter 11 of Sandstorm

A/N- Hope everyone likes it!!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, violence, ANGST, death, talks of pregnancy and THERES ALSO CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*KINGS LANDING. A COUPLE WEEKS LATER*

There’s no one now; it's quiet inside, and even out in the city.

She has no one now, not even the people; they don’t walk the streets with the debris still covering the streets. It’s like an abandoned city with Drogon keeping watch. Albeit she liked to think it’s peaceful. That people were quiet because they were at peace with what she did for them, after all they had nothing to fear anymore.

However, her own peace is disturbed by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she lets them know and keeps her eyes on the ocean past the city.

The door opens and footsteps walk in, but stop past the door. “My Queen,” she recognizes GreyWorm. “I’ve brought your envoys.”

Daenerys turns to face him and furrows her eyebrows a bit out of curiosity. “Read them to me.” After all she trusted no one else except him now that she locked Tyrion away.

Greyworm clears his throat and without needing to look at the paper he shares the first one. “A Raven came from Meereen, Daario Nahris received the envoy and is now on his way with the Second Sons.”

Daenerys' lips lift to a faint smirk, but all she offers is a nod in comprehension to let him share the next one.

“The next Raven came from the North, Princess Y/N Targaryen has arrived at Winterfell with the entirety of the Dornish army, and she wants to debate peace.”

Daenerys' smile fades, and she finally breaks away from her spot on the balcony to be basked by the darkness that her room is covered in.

“Peace,” Daenerys repeats in a low voice as she brushes her fingers across the wooden desk in her room. “After what she did?” She averts her gaze as she’s filled with the memory of you stopping her as she was raining down fire on the city, she remembers the attacks after, she remembers most of all your smile; your laugh, and all the ways you would make her smile. She remembers all the sweet things, all the comforting hugs, all the family dinners. She remembers being welcomed by you and Rhaenar, she remembers finally being at peace with you, her niece, family.

But with all those nice things she’s also plagued with all the crude things too, most of all she remembers your marriage and the babies you are meant to have, unless…

“Any news on the babies?” Daenerys breaks her silence.

“No, I’m sorry my Queen. All I read is that the Princess has been put on bedrest for some time.” Greyworm breaks the news, making her fall silent again.

If those babies are gone then their can be a chance to salvage what broke between you and her. Albeit there is one factor that can make it worse again, Jon Snow. As long as he’s alive he can produce more heirs….

“Alright,” Daenerys interjects and clasps her hands together. “Tell my niece…” she trails off and meets the man’s gaze. “What is it they’re calling her again?”

“The rising Saint,” he shares.

Daenerys scoffs. “Ah yes, well tell her I agree. Let’s debate peace.”

——

*WINTERFELL*

“He’s gotten bigger hasn't he mother?”

You glance at the orange dragon ascending off the window and smile faintly. “Yes, he has. Perhaps it’s all that food he eats, hm?” You suggest and bounce your eyebrows.

Rhaenar scoffs and peers back over his shoulder. “I cannot stop him from feeding himself now.”

“No,” you agree. “But you can make sure he is feeding on the right things, right?

Rhaenar returns to watch his dragon fly around the room and then interjects. “Yes, of course. Just as you said with Eraxis.” Rather than coming back to his seat by the bed you’re basically tied down to, he wanders off to the table holding the dragon chambers.

When you had first reunited with your son he had shown you the dragon eggs he risked his life to take, the way he got them exactly is a bit hazy considering he was rambling out of fear of what had happened, but he managed to take the dragon eggs from Dragonstone. Just adding more fuel to Daenerys' anger most likely.

“Why don’t you finish reading the book?” You suggest and reach over to the edge of your bed to drag the big thick book towards you.

Rhaenar opens the lid of the blue dragon egg and waits for the steam to clear before he begins to admire it. He’s bored, but he has refused to leave your side since you got here.

“Rhaenar,” you call out.

Yet before he can turn a knock raps on the door, making both of your heads turn.

“Come in,” you say, and right away the door opens and the first person you see is Sarelle, she meets your gaze and shoots you an apologetic look as she walks in. And once you see Jon, Sansa and the other Stark’s, Ser Jaime, and the other lords you know why.

“Princess,” Sansa greets, whilst the others bow their heads.

You sigh and know this won’t be short or pleasant for you so you then look to your son.

“Rhaenar,” you call, “why don’t you go find your aunt make sure she isn’t getting into any trouble.”

Said boy looks around at the crowd that’s forced to meet in your chambers and hesitates because he wants to be a part of this meeting. But you shoot him a pointed look so he covers the chamber backup and waits for Helios to perch back on his shoulder before he leaves. Once the door is closed you face the group gathered around and smile before addressing them.

“How pleasant it is to see all of you.” You clasps your hands over your lap whilst you catch Jon walk over to stand by your bedside. “Have we received word from Daenerys yet?”

The maester shakes his head. “Not yet, Princess.”

You let out a deep breath and nod in comprehension and then glance around all of them with a tightlipped smile. “So who will start first?”

They all look around at each other to wait who would actually step up, everyone with their mouths basically bleeding as they bite their tongue. So as to relieve them of their pain you choose for them and go for who you might have the easiest problem to help with.

“Ser Jaime,” you point out and land your eyes on him. “You’re still here, which as honored as I am, I’m actually quite surprised, I thought you’d be half a world away.”

The knight takes a step forward and meets your gaze to respond. “Well, I probably should be, but well I’m having a hard time saying goodbye. And two, well,” he sighs. “As you may know my brother was imprisoned by the Dragon Queen. I can’t leave without him, nor let him stay there because I know he’d do everything in his power to get me.”

You hum and squint your gaze on him, letting him continue to actually share what he needed to.

“I wanted help to retrieve my brother from the Dragon Queen’s clutches.”

“The Princess cant travel, Ser,” Sansa rebuttals. “Not for some time.”

You swallow thickly and lower your gaze out of shame that you can’t be doing more. And unberthknonwst to you Jon notices your reaction, the feelings that are spread on your face and reaches down to caress your shoulder.

“Yes,” Jaime cuts her off. “But I’m not asking her to come with me. I was hoping I could get some men to help me.”

At the sound of those words you look up at Jon to share a knowing look.

“…I know my way around the castle. I can’t guarantee it will be easy, but I need to get my brother out of there,” Jaime shares his desire, his reason to join everyone in this meeting.

Yet it’s a desire you can’t grant for many reasons. “Ser Jaime,” you interject and let out a deep breath. “As grateful as I am for what you've done, for keeping your promise to me. I cannot give you what you want because unlike you, your brother stayed loyal to his Queen until the end. He did nothing to earn the peoples trust or respect, not like you.” You let him down with an apologetic look. “I am terribly sorry. Truly. All I can grant you is luck and supplies if that’s what you need, but as to the other thing, you may ask yourself for volunteers.”

Jaime averts his gaze and scoffs. “Regardless of what I’ve done, people rather see me die than help.”

“Yes,” Sarella agrees with him. “That much is true.”

You shoot her a pointed glare, and she just shoots him a teasing smirk.

“Well,” you sigh and then flicker your eyes to the Stark sisters. “What are some other concerns?”

Sansa steps forward and shares. “There are some questions as to when you will execute Cersei?”

You hum and share a glance with Jon.

“I think it’s been prolonged long enough,” she adds.

You draw out a deep breath and nod slower before you respond with what you have in mind. “I’m waiting to execute to her.”

Sansa blinks in disbelief and shoots Jon a puzzled look that Jon doesn’t share since it’s something you haven’t told him yet either.

“For what?” Arya cuts in, causing you to drift your eyes to her and see her step forward—“killing her will turn those who still doubt you to your cause.”

“Arya is right,” Sansa agrees. “It’s a first step to completely sparking this war to life.” She argues.

Gods they’re really not going to like this…

“I’m not fighting a war,” you reveal and immediately see all their faces drop. “I’m not sparking anything. Daenerys will want to kill Cersei herself to gain the people’s love, I will let her do it once I get word.” You share a quick glance with Jon before looking at your cousin at his side.

She catches your gaze and gives you an assuring nod that lets you know she trusts you completely.

“You added fuel to that war the moment Daenerys countered your attempts to help save the people,” Sansa argues back with fury. “She almost killed you rather than standing down—”

“She killed thousands of people, your people after the bells rang,” Arya spats back too. “You might’ve not seen the tragedy below but you heard it, you stopped it from furthering. She took that first step against you, against our family, we have to counter and take her off that throne before she chooses to destroy everything and everyone.”

You remain calm even if you want to respond with annoyance to their persistence. “Daenerys lost everyone she knew. Missandei, Visieron, even Rhaegal since he bonded with Jon. Ser Jorah. She let her anger drive her, I can help her. She needs guidance I can provide.”

Sansa scoffs, but Lord Royce interjects instead. “Pardon me my Princess, but there is no saving the Dragon Queen after she attacked her own kin. The people of King's Landing may be horrible—”

Jaime scoffs in agreement at that.

“…but they honor that. You turn and help her then you lose everyone, everything you worked to gain.” He finishes.

As wise as his words are, you remain stubborn. You shake your head and stand your ground. “I will not ignite a war.” You snap back with narrowed glare. “If it’s a war you all want then go ahead, but you will not count on me, Dorne,” you say and gain Sarella’s approval with a nod. “Or my dragon.”

All the people in the room go quiet, they share speechless and upset glances. It seems like neither will talk back, but Sansa does fight back with an icy spirit. “She didn’t only attack you, she attacked your family, the babies, she disregarded all respect she said she had. She chose power rather than standing down to her own kin! She attacked your people! She would’ve killed your son, and you! Given the chance. Will you sit and do nothing! That is your throne, your crown!”

You clench your jaw and narrow your glare deeper. Sansa holds your glare without falter, so you sit up. Jon tries to help you, but you put your hand out to stop him and sit up on your bed yourself to give Sansa what she wants, a fight back.

“Some of us didn't get the pleasure of growing up with our parents. I don’t have the memories of my mother braiding my hair, or giving me warning looks to stop something I’m doing. I don’t have memories of fighting with my mother or my father over stupid things that don’t matter at the end of the day. You know why, you all know why!” You huff out. “I have been fighting a war since my mother and siblings died—no since my father left us….so I’m sorry that all I want now is for my children to grow up with their parents, both of them.” You draw in a deep shaky breath, then breathe out as you drop your head to look at your hands.

You then look over at Jon, and he offers you an assuring look that lets you add on, calmer this time. “Fighting in a war brings no guarantee to Jon’s safety, or mine. I understand everyone’s distrust for Daenerys, but she is Queen now as long as she sits on that Throne, as long as her heart beats. I’m not asking to return to her court, all I want is a pardon so I can just raise my children and live my life with my husband. I’ve lost too much, we all have, I’m not letting her take anything else.”

This time no one argues back, no one steps forward, there’s no passed glances, it’s still, letting you turn to Jaime again.

“If Daenerys grants us the ability to negotiate I can add your brother to the deal. That way you don’t need to risk your life.” You offer him a gentle smile. “Just rest assured, she probably won’t kill him right away, he is still a Lannister, and he might be her chance to get the Westlands to support her.”

Ser Jaime nods hesitantly. “You might be right. I’ll wait then.” He bows his head, letting you look at the others again.

“Now, if there’s nothing more to add, I would like to have a moment with my husband.” You add, causing everyone to leave the room, even your cousin, leaving just Jon and you in the silence of your shared quarters.

Jon breaks away from his spot rather quickly, and you drop your shoulders and draw out a deep exhausted breath. “Ugh,” you groan, “how do Lords and Kings do this all day?” You watch Jon take his cloak off to release weight off his body so he can find some ease in private.

“Well,” he scoffs. “Some Kings don’t actually handle any business.”

You snicker and nod. “I guess you’re right. Did your father handle his business?”

Jon walks over to the table by the window to serve water in a golden cup. “Yes, he did. I wasn’t with him a lot, but when I was he always looked tired, but that’s nothing compared to you,” he points out and turns to walk over to your side of the bed. “Being with child and doing all of this is impressive.” He hands you the cup before he presses his hand on your swollen belly.

You hum softly and watch him with a soft look. “Thank you for coming to me. I mean I could go without going to meetings and handling any business, but thank you for not forgetting about me.”

Jon straightens up and grabs your hand. “You are my wife, we’re partners in this. Besides…you are the princess which does make you higher ranked. It is your duty.”

You shoot him a narrowed glare, and he just smirks before he presses a kiss on your cheek to then press a kiss on your belly.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to sit up more? Or more pillows?” He worries.

You take a sip of water and look out the window. “I could use a walk,” you mumble and set the cup down on the end table beside you whilst you hope to catch a glimpse of Eraxis outside in the skies you wish you can be in, but there’s only blank white skies.

Jon scoffs at your response and follows your line of gaze, when you look back at him you see his smile had faded away and his gaze looked distant and brooding; his mind is churning isn’t it?

“What is it?” You query, even though you know it’s about what was just discussed with everyone else. “Do you think we should march into battle for the throne too?”

Jon blinks and meets your gaze to shake his head. “No. You don’t want it, I don’t want it, it would be an unmotivated battle.” He finishes, making you squint your eyes on him. “And like I’ve said before I trust you, if you don’t want to counter back against Daenerys then we don’t—”

“Then?” You cut him off.

Jon shifts around to face you better, and you stay still since you can’t move. “It’s about your decision about Cersei,” he shares. “In other kingdoms it’s different, every family has different values, but…my father always followed one value, ‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.’ You gave the sentence, you took her, it should be you.”

You blink repeatedly and drop your gaze to your hands as you take in his words. “What about Daenerys?” You ask softly in an unsure tone of voice.

Jon sighs. “There are no sides to killing the Queen. Besides Daenerys already has the capitol, she already burned the city, killing Cersei won’t gain their respect or their trust.”

He is right….and if his father did say those words then Winterfell respects them too. And the Lannister’s have hurt your family just as they've hurt the Stark’s, it has to be here, because regardless if you want the throne or not, you still are Jon’s wife, you still need their respect. Killing Cersei will gain that.

“Alright,” you give in and meet Jon’s dark gaze. “I’ll do it. On the morrow. After breakfast.”

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Door hinges creak, and what was once covered in darkness is invaded by the swaying torch light in your hand.

“Good morning,” you greet and push your hand further in the small room to try and see the prisoner kept inside, but she’s not on her bed nor by the desk. Actually her plate is untouched, her bed is a mess, the small bookshelf is emptied out of all the books that once decorated it, and the curtains are drawn to cover the windows and bring that lurking darkness.

She’s being difficult, you’ve heard from Sansa that Cersei has protested against eating and kept herself living like a hermit.

Thus why you let out a deep sigh and look back at Jon to pass a quick glance that lets him know to move your moving chair futher in the room. And that’s when you finally see her balled in the corner behind the door, with the books that are meant to decorate the shelf all over the ground.

Cersei doesn’t even bother to look up at you, nor does she move, she keeps her eyes trained on the ground. You don’t bother to say anything else right away either, you’re too taken back by her appearance to speak. After all it’s the first time you’ve seen her with her hair messy and unbrushed, with her face dirty because she’s refused to let anyone touch her, and in dirty clothes she’s refused to take off since she was taken.

“Sansa wanted you to be taken out in drags,” you interject, but still gain nothing. “But I convinced her otherwise.” You throw her a dress you picked out for her own execution. “Be nice to the handmaidens, they are here to make you look presentable. You were a Queen once afterall.” You look her up and down and sigh before Jon begins to pull you out in the wheelchair they’ve forced you to be on so you wouldn’t move so much.

It’s too much for you considering it’s just your upper body that got hurt, but if it makes Jon happy then whatever. You’ll get pushed around until you heal.

However! The one thing that is distasteful and makes this dreadful is the stares. Regardless if they’re out of disbelief over seeing you out. Then again you do always receive weird stares from the people, even if it’s been some time now since you’ve been here.

Yet there is one stare that you’ll never grow tired of, this one isn’t aimed at you but at the majestic dragons that now roam Winterfell. First, the people you pass by as Jon pushes you towards the field past the castle gates spot Helios flying towards you. He’s small but the people fear him now because he can fly on his own.

“Hello, little sun,” you greet the orange dragon as he now begins to fly by you. “Where’s Rhaenar?” You ask it before you look back and spot your boy running over just as you predicted.

“Mother! Jon!” Rhaenar greets.

“Prince,” Jon greets him back with a smile, whilst you watch him as he falls at your other side and grabs onto one of your wheelchairs armrest to walk at your pace. “Where have you been?” Jon asks.

“I was on a tower,” Rhaenar reveals between pants. “There’s people from the nearby towns that are arriving to see the execution.”

You nod. “Cersei Lannister did a lot of harm to the Kingdoms, her family also did a lot of harm to the Starks—”

“Yes,” Rhaenar cuts you off. “I know. People want justice.”

You hum in agreement and glance around in search of your sisters, but they’re not around. “<Where are your aunts?>” You ask in Valyrian so Jon can learn.

Rhaenar glances over at Jon and shoots him a smirk before responding in the same language. “<Waiting with Sansa and Arya already. They said they wanted a good view.>”

You peer over your shoulder and catch Jon’s perplexed look since Rhaenar spoke too fast for him to fully comprehend everything. And yet before either Rhaenar or you could explain anything, a high pitched cry breaks from the sky. You quickly look up and spot white scales gleaming as they descend from the sky slowly; Eraxis. Poor injured Eraxis.

The people around begin to quicken their pace, others scatter to find shelter as if she would attack, but you beam at her as she now chooses to hover above you as best as she can. And then not seconds later a dark shadow casts over the grounds before the green beauty that is Rhaegal quietly flies past.

“I’m thinking we might be the late ones,” Jon comments whilst he watches his dragon land on the field past the gates.

You scoff. “Or everyone else is early.”

Jon chuckles. “Or that.”

You smile faintly, but that slowly fades as you now get rolled past the gate and see the crowd already gathered around the wooden stake that was built just for Cersei.

“Princess.”

“There she is, The Rising Saint…”

As far as alias goes you’ve heard worse, but this name the people are calling you now after the battle at Kingslanding—or as the people are calling it “The dance of the dragons”, is unnecessary. You’re no saint, not close, just because some soldiers saw you push yourself off the shore as Eraxis was extending her wings behind you means nothing at all. In fact you lost that battle.

“Princess.”

You offer the people who part away to make a path for you a small smile.

“Sister!” Elia exclaims when she spots you, and parts away from Jaime’s side to stride over to you. “There you are, I thought you wouldn't come.”

“It's my duty,” you say and glance past her shoulder. “Please don’t tell me you were pestering the poor Knight. Need I remind he's only enough to be your father.”

Elia scoffs. “We were just talking. Nothing bad.” She smirks. “But if he wanted to then…” she trails off and snickers.

“Gods,” you grumble.

“Then what?” Rhaenar presses innocently, only making Elia chuckle and walk off to be by Sarella now—“what does she mean mother? Jon?”

You peer back at Jon to share an awkward look before you meet your son's curious gaze and assure him. “I’ll tell you later, okay? Now is not the right time.”

Rhaenar sighs deeply and nods. “Alright, but you promise? You say that but you forget sometimes.”

You roll your eyes playfully and assure him. “I will. But if I forget remind me. After all, once I’m back in my chambers I have nothing but time,” you complain.

“Well,” Jon cuts in as he now begins to turn you around so can face the stake. “When you finally can be on your feet, don't come complain’ that you want to be in bed all day.”

“I won’t,” you counter knowing well that you’re lying because you will complain.

Jon scoffs softly and leaves at that now that you’ve joined his family, and Jaime’s side.

“Ser Jaime,” you direct at him now as you watch Eraxis circle the area to land beside Rhaegal. “I’m surprised you’re here. I didn’t think you had the stomach to watch this.”

Jaime unfurls a deep sigh from his nose. “I have to be here. It’s my responsibility.”

You hum softly and blink to steal a quick glimpse; noticing his frown he was trying not to show, as well as that somber look that flickered in his colored eyes. You then glance at Sansa to direct your next word to her and notice the opposite, there isn’t a smirk on her lips, but there is a ghost of one playing there on the corner of her lips. Her eyes are shooting off sparks compared to the dull look in Jaime’s.

Then again you can’t blame her excitement.

“Are you ready?” You ask Sansa.

Said girl glances down at you and nods. “More than you know. If only I could be the one to say the words.”

You return your gaze back to your dragon and catch Rhaegal…tending to her? You can’t be sure you’ve never seen it be done, but he was letting her nuzzle against him.

“You can speak,” you tell her.

Sansa holds your gaze and offers you a stiff agreeing nod. And just as she agrees, commotion amongst the crowd begins to rise; demeaning words begin to be shouted, boos are thrown out, and no one leaves space to see but you know that the guards were bringing Cersei out now.

“Can you get me a bit closer,” you tell Jon.

Without hesitation Jon pushes you a bit past the row you were standing in to wait for Cersei there. You then proceed to look back at Rhaenar as the space beside you is empty. You don’t tell him anything but you do motion the spot beside you with the movement of your eyes.

The boy hesitates, he doesn’t want to be so close when the dragons breathe out their fire on Cersei, he’s frightened, but he is a Prince, he needs to witness matters such as these, as distasteful as they may be.

Thus he slowly approaches and stands beside you just as the guards finally push Cersei out of the crowd, and finally take her up to the stake.

Once she’s tied up Sansa walks over to speak. “Cersei Lannister, I’ve been thinking of this since day the moment I knew who you really were, but now that I’m here I can no longer express the pain you and your terrible son put me through.” She exhales and stops in front of the stake to look up to meet Cersei’s burning glare. “I just hope you remember that gods have no mercy.” She lifts her chin and finally that smirk that had been playing on her lips spreads to a malicious one. “I hope you feel every second of your flesh and skin melting upon your bones as the dragons bathe you in their fire.”

Jon steps over to stand by you, and you both now share a quick shocked glance before you now interject. “I wish there can be words I could say, but I can’t muster a single word from my heart that doesn’t just spew with venom. Thus why, I now say this with pride, Queen Cersei Lannister, first of her name, I Princess y/n Targaryen-Martell sentence you to death on the charges of the deaths of Margaery Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, regicide, mass murder, treason, Arson, abuse of power against the crown, Conspiracy and Usurpation. What are your last words?”

Finally Cersei breaks her glare away from you to look at her lover/brother Jaime Lannister. Her look doesn’t change to sadness to plead for her life, she just shoots him the same glare before she then looks upon all the people. “I hope you all burn in all seven hells! I hope Daenerys burns you all to ash! You will all burn!”

The crowd begins to shout and throw stuff at her, so you lift your chin and have Eraxis cut everyone off with a mighty roar. When they all go quiet and back away from the stake, you look back at Sansa.

Now without hesitation her and Arya walk to the stake with lit torches in their hands that they put under the pyre, they then turn and now stand beside you to watch the flames eat away at the wood below the platform.

All that’s left now is you, so without a moment to spare you draw in a small breath, and then exhale. “Dracarys!” You command out.

Rhaegal steps back, and Eraxis pulls her head back before they both breathe in deeply and then open their mouths to breathe out bright, fiery flames that engulf Cersei and the stake she stands against within seconds.

The Queen resists at first, but when her skin and flesh begins to melt she cries out, filling the bitter air with her pained cries one second, and the next…nothing but silence again. Now all that stood was the still lively flames that ate her body and the wood.

“My Princess,” a quiet voice cuts in by your ear. “My Lord. A Raven came from Queen Daenerys.”

You drift your eyes away from the red-orange flames to look at the Maester by your side. “Call for a meeting at the hall then,” you inform him. “I’ll go there now to read what she has to say.”

——

*LATER*

“You ask for forgiveness after the act of betrayal against me, I will give it to you. I hope you, your new family and all the Kingdoms that are loyal to you remember my mercy…

You sigh with relief and keep on reading the words Daenerys had so elegantly written on the paper.

“Come to King’s Landing and bend the knee. Swear fealty to me and your eldest son Prince Rhaenar will still have his title as heir, you will have a place in my court and in my castle. However, know that when you and your husband bend the knee, you cannot pursue your children’s claim for The North, Dorne, or the crown. The Warden or Wardeness of the North will not seek independence. It is then that you will have your peace. And if any other Lords who are at your beck and call won’t bend the knee, then warn them of my wrath that will await them, tell them that you won’t be there to save them after you bend the knee.” You finish reading and slowly lower the paper and lift your gaze to look at the Lords, and Ladies gathered around the table.

And there’s one specific Lady who glares diggers into you.

“You will have your children be cup bearers and hold banners for the rest of your life?” Sansa argues as expected. “Jon you can’t possibly want that?! You cannot bend the knee to her again. She betrayed you, she betrayed her kin. She betrayed her people and all of Westeros.”

You don’t counter, instead you look up at Jon and wait for his response with no glare to threaten him to back you up, with no unspoken words shared between your eyes, you let him speak his mind. And he knows it.

“It’s not ideal? no, but at least I will still have them. Throwing ourselves into a war risks their lives,” Jon counters his sister. “She would kill them if we went against her if it meant she had no competition to her throne. Or she would kill y/n and me,” his voice begins to rise with anger, and his eyes begin to narrow. “And it’s just as y/n said, I want my children to have their parents, I want to watch them grow up, I want to be their father.” He draws out a deep breath and tries to calm down.

“I also will not risk having my own people have their homes and land burnt down, going against Daenerys guarantees a destructive war. I will not see anymore children burnt.” He shakes his head. “I will not see anyone else burnt to ash. I will go to Kings Landing in Princess y/n’s stead.” He looks down at you to meet your gaze, and you immediately offer him a thankful smile.

“Right now the princess can’t travel, so I will go in her place.” He nods and presses his hands against the tabletop to then look back at everyone around the table. “I can’t ask all the other Lords to do the same, if it’s a war you want you are welcome to it, but we can’t give into our pride.” He sighs. “So if it’s alright with the Princess I will travel as soon as on the morrow when the sun rises.” He then looks back at you to seek your permission.

Before you give him your confirmation you look only to one person, Sarella, your sister.

“Dorne will be upset that we won’t go to war,” she says, but we will follow you,” she assures you.

You draw out a small relieved breath and then blink to meet Jon’s waiting gaze. “Go. Bend the knee for us.”

Jon offers you a comprehensive nod, and you smile at him softly whilst you grab his hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“If it is what you want Princess,” Lord Royce interjects, pulling your attention to him standing beside the table. “I will bend the knee as well.”

“As will the Reach,” a representative for the new Warden of the South adds too.

That’s the South and the East Kingdoms, Dorne will also follow, now all that’s left is Sansa and the North. Knowing that, all eyes fall to Sansa to seek her answer. And she meets Arya’s gaze to share a speechless conversation before her glare turns to pierce into Jon and you.

“If Jon wants then we will follow too.” She says stiffly.

Thank the gods.

“Good,” you breathe out with relief. “Then Jon will travel to Kings Landing at his convenience and bend the knee for me.”

There’s silence, it’s full of tension but everything is dealt with so they can sit in their anger and pride as much as they want.

“Mother,” a young voice cuts in, making you look at Rhaenar standing at your right side. “If it is okay with you may I go with Jon to King's Landing to bend the knee as well?”

He always wants to go to battles, he also wants to be involved and he hardly can. You don’t quite like the idea of him leaving your side with everything so tense, but, well, Daenerys won’t harm him and it might do some good if he goes. She might be less hostile.

“All right,” you agree. “You may go.”

Right away Rhaenar shoots you a proud grin that does make your heart swell.

“Good,” Jon then interjects. “With that resolved. Ser Davos, Rhaenar and a handful of some trusted men, and I will travel to King's Landing on a ship. Going on dragonback will probably just rise tension we want to avoid.”

“Yes,” you agree. “That’s true, good. Now does anyone else have anything to add?” You glance at everyone gathered, and no one thankfully interjects. Now the room is finally dispersed except for Sansa, Jon, rhaenar and you.

“I will ask one more time,” Sansa breaks the silence whilst she walks over to you. “As your goodsister, as your sister…” she pauses and gets close to you to take your hands in hers. “Is this really what you want? She may be the last part of your family you have left, but push that aside for now and tell me if bending the knee is what you want.”

You blink repeatedly as you draw in a deep breath and slide one hand over hers to respond softly. “Pushing that aside doesn’t change my answer if it gives me peace. I don’t care for titles, not anymore. If I could have a piece of land here, beyond the wall, or in Dorne by the glimmering sea where I can watch my children grow, where I can teach them how to further connect with their dragons, where I can fly in the sky and feel the wind in my face, feel the clouds on my fingertips, where I can see Jon drop his shoulders and spread that charming grin of his, then yes,” you nod and smile. “I’ve lost too much, I can’t lose anymore. So yes Sansa I’m sure. I hope you can find that too. And you will on your own time.” You offer her a soft smile and look back at Jon to signal him to roll you back to your quarters since…well this has been a strain filled day.

Thus without adding a word Jon pulls you back, letting you drop Sansa’s hands and face Rhaenar now as he skips over to walk by your side. Once your back is turned to her all you feel is her stare until the door closes behind you.

——

Being vulnerable with Jon was something you could always be. It’s something the both of you never were scared of being. It’s something that not a lot of couples in this world get to be, you count yourself lucky that you can have someone in your life who doesn’t make you keep things in and pile up. You’re lucky to have him.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly as you trace the long wound on his chest. “I…I can’t trust her. Not anymore.”

Jon sighs. “Nor can I,” he admits as well. “The truth is that we never can, not after what happened.”

You swallow thickly. “But if I can’t trust her then what does that mean for the people that follow us. I…I’m risking their lives aren’t I?”

Jon’s arms wrap tighter around you as he stays quiet for a moment that makes your worry heighten. “I think we shouldn’t truly trust certain people completely, I think always being at least somewhat cautious is okay. Otherwise you’re blinded.”

There’s many examples to contradict his saying, there’s many examples to prove him right, especially when it comes to Kings and Queens. But you want him to be wrong about her badly.

Albeit you know he isn’t wrong.

“I suppose you’re right,” you agree quietly and then carefully push yourself off his chest to face him. “You’re so wise. How did you get to be so?”

He begins to smirk. “Livin’.” He quips.

You snicker and then mock him. “Livin’.”

He playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you back to his chest. “By the time I come back you’ll be bigger.”

You feign a frown. “What do you mean by that?” You mess with him. “Are you calling me—”

“No, you know what I mean, your belly. The babies,” he quickly tries to correct himself, making you burst out laughing.

“I know,” you let him know, causing Jon to scoff and pull his arm off your shoulders. “No,” you whine and nuzzle your head against his neck. “You’ll be gone for 2 or three months because you won’t go on dragonback. Let me bask in your warmth for a while longer.”

You can basically picture his smile as he wraps his arm back around you. “I’ll come back to you as quickly as I can,” he assures you.

You smile softly and press a kiss on his chest. “You better. I can’t part from you for too long. What if someone takes you from me?”

Jon scoffs in amusement. “Who’d do that?”

You shrug. “Sirens out in the depths of the water.”

“Sirens?” He teases.

You nod. “They’re real,” you counter quickly. “They trap pirates and sailors with their hypnotizing song. My uncle said he saw one, and I’ve read all about them.”

“They’re just tales,” Jon says. “They aren’t real.”

You scoff. “Yeah you’d know because you’re such an experienced sailor. Giants are real, why shouldn’t sirens be?”

Jon parts his lips but can’t argue back, so you giggle and grow cocky. “Exactly,” you quip and then lift your head to show him your smile before you lean in and steal a kiss from his pink lips. You feel his faint smile, and his hands on your cheeks. You know he’d flip you around if it wasn’t for your wounds on your shoulder, so instead he leans in and deepens the sweet kiss. He savors your taste to remember what your lips feel like when he misses them out at sea, just as you’ll miss him when you’re laying in bed here watching Eraxis fly by without you riding her.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

Jon’s gaze softens and he caresses your cheek as he says it back. “I love you too. I’ll come back to you, and the baby’s.”

You offer him a sweet smile and press your forehead against his one more time, before you pull away and let him climb off bed before you make him stay. And since you can’t move you have to watch him—which isn’t the problem, you like it, you smile, but you do wish you could move.

Nevertheless, once he is done he presses a kiss on your belly and then steals one last passionate kiss from you.

“I’ll miss you,” you tell him.

Jon's smile turns timid. “I’ll miss you too.”

Before he can pull away from the bed you grab his arm to not let him move. “You take care of Rhaenar, alright? Take care of him.”

Jon holds your gaze and nods. “Of course I will. Don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief and then steal one last kiss before letting him go.

“Take care,” you throw out as he walks away.

“You too!” He shouts back, and with a smirk he adds, “Sansa will keep an eye out. Arya will too.”

You feign a grin since having Arya look out for you is the worst since she’s so sneaky and even more pestering.

“Great,” you mutter, making Jon chuckle whilst he opens the door. And when the door is pushed open he comes to a halt, you think he’s going to come back, but instead he moves to the side and reveals your son.

You beam at him. “I thought you wouldn't come say goodbye.”

Rhaenar runs past Jon to reach your side with his trust worthy companion flying in after him. “I’ve come to say goodbye mother,” he says and grabs your hand since he’s too scared he’ll hurt you with an embrace. “I won’t be gone long but still.”

You caress his chin and shoot him a smile. “No, but when you come back I will change. I’ll be big, I’ll be unrecognizable.”

Rhaenar giggles. “Don’t be silly, mother. You won’t be different at all.”

Your smile softens. “No. You’re right. Now go before I change my mind and make you stay.”

Rhaenar holds your hands for a longer moment, and you caress his cheek once more before you pull your hand away before you actually change your mind. “Be careful alright? When you get to the city, stay with Jon, and don’t wander.” You warn him.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes but can’t help his smile. “Alright. Alright. Goodbye, mother.” He says and begins to step back.

You shoot him a small wave and a soft smile. “Bye my sweet boy. And you,” you point to his orange dragon. “Watch him.”

The dragon blinks and then turns to fly after Rhaenar as he runs out of the room, letting Jon poke his head inside one last time. “Bye, my love,” Jon says to you once more.

You shoot him a smirk and wave. “Bye, my love.” You watch him close the door and leave the room lonely now. You sit still and hold your breath to listen to their receding footsteps until you can’t hear the echo of the faint thumps.

However, as you breathe out and sink lower down in your bed to try and sleep some more, the sound flapping wings fills the room. When you look out the balcony door you see half of Eraxis’s face, you spot her bright blazing brown eye, and her beautiful snout gleaming by the light beams breaking out of the sky.

She whines softly as she senses the sadness in your heart after seeing your son and your husband leave.

“Yes,” you tell her. “I do have you. But,” you sigh. “I want you to do something for me. Take Rhaegal and follow them.” You give her a command. “Be discreet as you usually are. And only show yourself if they are in danger. Watch them from the skies, okay my sweet girl?”

Eraxis watches you for a second before she blinks and flaps her wings to ascend to the sky. Due to how this room is facing you don’t see her get lost in the clouds, you just hear her wings flapping in the distance until there’s only silence.

——

*2 WEEKS LATER. RHAENAR.*

“Tell me again what this does,” the old Onion Knight points to a part of the boat.

Rhaenar stares long and hard, jumbles of words come to mind, but he can’t place a name to the specific part. “I…I don’t know, sorry.”

Ser Davos sighs and then opens his mouth to reveal the name, but Rhaenar cuts him off.

“Why is it that I have to learn these things? Once I’m King, Helios will be big enough to ride, I won’t need to sail a boat.”

Ser Davos scoffs and turns with his hands clasped behind him. “That’s what you think, but a good King must know many things. What if your dragon dies and you’re at war? One that requires the use of your fleet? Hm? People respect a leader if they see you putting your life on the line amongst them.”

Rhaenar lips pulls to a faint smile and his gaze travels to Jon across the deck talking to some men. “Like how the Free Folk admire Jon?”

Ser Davos glances at Jon as well and nods. “Aye. Like him. Would you want to be like Jon or like the boy King Joffrey?”

Rhaenar scoffs. “Like Jon of course.”

Ser Davos hums and nods. “Aye so lets go over the stuff again and then you can go off and read your books.”

Rhaenar skips off to a part of the boat he does remember and wants to name a part he does know to make Ser Davos proud, but then the sound of man shouting out from the look out above cuts him off.

“Danger ahead! Unmarked ship incoming!”

Rhaenar snaps his head to the front and sees a large approaching ship the distance. It has no House flag, actually it has no flags at all, it’s unmarked, and now that Ser Davos has taught him stuff about ships, pirates and sailors, he knows that this boat isn’t friendly.

Yet he doesn’t want to back down and hide.

“How can I help?” He asks and feels Helios perch up on his shoulder.

Ser Davos quickly meets his gaze and shakes his head. “No you may not help at this moment. Guards take the young Prince to his cabin and guard him with your lives.”

Rhaenar’s guards agree and march to him, albeit the boy pulls away and looks out for Jon. “Jon! I want to help!”

Said man snaps his head to the boy from where he stands on deck, and then rushes over to him. “Rhaenar you will stay in your cabin until we’ve resolved this alright? With luck we will just pay or trade what we have and move on, but regardless you go to your cabin, be ready for anything and don’t come out unless there’s imminent danger or until I go fetch you, you heard me?”

Rhaenar scowls in protest, so Jon grabs his shoulders and insists with concern.

“Do you understand me? Take Helios with you. And stay in your chambers. Now!”

Rhaenar nods and then pulls away to do as he was told since if he didn’t he’d be dragged away regardless. Even if he knew how to fight like any grown man.

However, as time passed he couldn’t pick up the sound of other additional voices that could come from the pirates incoming. No, he only heard the breathing of his dragon, and the muffled shouts from his crew and nothing else.

And yet what he waited to hear doesn’t come yet, no new voices cut in, instead suddenly something loud crashes in the ship, causing it to shake and spiking the boy's heartbeat.

He jumps to his feet and tries to peek out the small circle window, but he sees only water—Damned low windows!

So once again he’s left only to listen in. And now new voices he had yet to hear join the ship, ruff voices that are followed by cries of pain from others. It frightens him a bit, but Rhaenar tries to remain calm and puts all his faith in Jon; he will solve this, the boy tells himself.

He keeps telling himself that as the ship keeps on shaking with what it gets hit with, he listens to the battle rage on above, and even out in the hall outside his room. He hugs Helios to comfort himself since the dragon is ready to attack what may come, and keeps telling himself that Jon and the other brave soldiers above will handle this.

When the fight now sounds outside his door he jumps off his bed and snatches his spear from the corner of his room. He then returns to stand by his bed and grips onto his spear, he shifts his feet to a battle ready stance, and listens to the commotion in case someone comes in.

As time passes he narrows his gaze and Helios hovers above him ready to fight too. He still hopes Jon will come, he holds onto that hope as the doorknob begins to jingle and then the door bursts open.

When he sees that the man that barged in isn’t Jon, or his Dornish guards, or any Northerner, Rhaenar still clings onto hope that Jon will handle this.

“Helios,” the boy grimaces with his eyes piercing on the pirate. “Dracarys.”

The dragon opens his mouth and gets ready to shoot out fire, but just before he can, the man slams the door shut, causing Helios to instead take back his flames and close his jaw. Rhaenar blinks in confusion and waits there for a second with his spear still in hand, he strains his ear and hears stuff scrape against the wooden floor, and only one pair of feet.

What’s the man doing? He thinks to himself and lowers his weapon to cautiously approach his door. He reaches for the doorknob and just before he can touch the cool metal, something made of glass breaks in front of his door.

“What?” Rhaenar mumbles and slaps his hand on the doorknob to push the door open, however as he pushes the door only opens an inch before it hits against something heavy. He tries again and again and comes to the same outcome, nothing.

He tries to listen for the pirate, but now he doesn’t hear footsteps, he lost track of him when he was banging the door against what’s blocking it. He does, however, find something else in that pirates place, the strong smell of smoke, and the sound of flames eating away at the wood blocking the door.

Now that fear heightens tenfold, it turns to terror that makes him panic and try harder to open the damn door. “Someone!” He yells out for his guards. “Jon!” He cries out for the man he still hopes will come.

Helios senses Rhaenar’s desperation and terror and cries out too, he cries loud and with a high pitched tone. But nothing.

The fire only grows, letting Rhaenar see its bright glow as it peeks through the gap under the door. He tries to open the door again but now the knob burns as the flames begin to eat away at that, causing Rhaenar to hiss in pain and step back.

“Jon!” He bellows out again. “Jon!”

The dragon also cries out, but again, nothing. Not even footsteps in the hall. He just hears clashes of metal slamming together violently above.

Smoke soon thereafter begins to crawl inside the room, bringing tears to Rhaenar’s eyes both from its intensity, and fear that now paralyzes him. “Jon!” He sobs out and keeps stepping back further into the room as the flames now find a way inside his room. “Jon!”

He can’t even try and escape out of the window since it’s too small—

But Helios can. So before the fire can increase, Rhaenar jumps on his bed and quickly opens the window. “Go Helios, find Jon!” He tells his orange dragon. “Find him and bring him here!”

The dragon perches on the window and looks back at the boy, he meets Rhaenar’s fearful gaze and hesitates.

“Go, Helios!” Rhaenar insists. “Go. We’ll see one another again. Get Jon!”

Helios looks ahead and then flies off to do what Rhaenar asks of him whilst the flames only enrage.

——

*A COUPLE WEEKS LATER. WINTERFELL.*

The fresh air from the outside felt a lot fresher, crisp, and more chilly but it doesn’t feel stiff like it does in the room.

God's how much you’ve missed being on your feet! Now all you need is the sun, but here in Winterfell during the winter the sun is timid, it likes to hide most of the day and only likes to tease with glimpses of its rays.

“I want to go back to Sunspear,” you tell Sarella as you both see Elia below training on her horse. “I want to feel the sun and pick oranges and lemons.”

Sarella sighs and leans back on her heels. “Wouldn’t that be a delight? Maybe once the babes are born we can go visit.”

You look over at her as you clasps your hands over the stone railing. “You’re not staying home?”

Sarella shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. Or I might go back to the Citadel.”

A playful smile tugs on your lips. “Ah, will you be the ever so mysterious Alleras again?”

Sarella snickers and nods. “I have yet to be revealed so yes.”

You nod. “That’s good.” You sigh and smile. “Maybe when my family and I travel beyond the wall I’ll send you a Raven so you can come along, would you like that?”

Sarella snaps her head to the side to look at you. “Yes!” She exclaims. “I’d love that! Father went to the wall, I’d love to go too.”

You hum in content and nod whilst you look past the castle gates as you spot distant figures approaching the castle. “I’ll keep you in mind then.”

The guards spot the approaching figures and sound the horn. “Riders!” They announce.

You stand on the tip of your toes and squint your gaze to try and identify what it might be, albeit it does take a while since they are far. But when they get close you see that there’s about five people on horses, and in the middle there’s a horse pulling a carriage.

Must be someone important then! There’s some much needed excitement, things have been so dreadful lately since Jon, Eraxis and Rhaenar are gone, and you could do nothing but lay in bed and let your body heal.

However, once the riders get close you identify two riders, it’s Jon and Ser Davos. And Rhaenar isn’t amongst any of the other riders—perhaps he’s in the carriage?

Regardless, they’re not meant to come home yet, they’re either supposed to be barely arriving at Kings Landing, or still at sea depending how the water is. It’s far too early—unless they decided to take the dragons instead.

“It’s Jon,” you point out to Sarella with a half smile since you don’t know whether to be worried or excited.

“Open the gates!” The guards shout.

You push yourself back from the railing and regardless of your curiosity a happy grin tugs on your face over the fact that your husband and son are back.

“I shall go greet them!” You announce and turn. However, as you do you come to an immediate stop as you hear the thundering sound of wings flapping from the sky, when you look up, only seconds later do both dragons appear in the sky above you. And actually Eraxis chooses to depart from Rhaegal and lands on the tower above the balcony you stand on.

“My beautiful girl,” you greet her.

Eraxis lowers her head to be as close as she can to you. She then growls softly and lets out a huff of air through her nose.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask her and begin to caress her snout. “How are my boys? Huh? Did you protect them well?”

Eraxis whines and turns her head so you'd meet her eye, and that’s when you notice that it’s gleaming with an unshed tear.

“What is it?” You ask now with concern.

And of course she doesn’t answer so you sigh deeply and press your forehead against her to mutter, “I’m going to greet Jon and Rhaenar, okay? Go rest, I’ll see you later.” You pull back and quickly walk inside the castle, catching the sound of Eraxis flying away.

“I never thought dragons could cry,” Sarella points out. “It was quite a sight.”

You hum softly as a response as you’re stuck in thought, and slowly grow more concerned over the men’s early return because you didn’t sense joy in Eraxis, no, her whine wasn’t high, it was soft, long. It was…sad. Why would she be sad?

You swallow thickly and quicken your pace as best as you can, Sarella catches up and matches your pace as you begin to dash down the halls.

Yet before you can reach that last hall that leads to the outside door, you’re blocked off by Arya.

“Where do you think you’re doing?” She quips.

Great, just what you need, a pestering Stark. Yes, they’re worried, it’s sweet! But not right now.

“Jon, and Rhaenar got home,” you tell her, “I’m going to greet them.”

Arya narrows her gaze. “You can greet them from your chambers. Go. You know me I won't move. You just have one more week of bedrest, come on.”

You groan and listen only because she frightens you slightly, and she’d probably use force to take you back to your room. So to avoid that you drag your feet back to your chambers like if you were some scolded child.

“I’m a Princess, you know,” you remind her as you begin to approach your quarters. “I’m higher ranked than you.”

“Aye,” she agrees. “But you’re still on bed rest, you are carrying my nieces, and I truly don’t care.” She scoffs, and when you peer back you catch a smug smirk.

You roll your eyes, but still walk into your quarters and wait with Sarella. You wait and wait. Not much time passes, but it seems like it’s been hours. Eventually, Arya returns to the room, but she only pokes her head in and pulls Sarella out of the room, leaving you alone to wait. Weird.

Your sister takes some time, so eventually your curiosity gets the best of you and you stand up off your bed to slowly creep towards the door. However, footsteps begin to echo from the hall, they approach this room, so you step back towards the bed and wait with your hands behind your back to fiddle with the rings on your fingers.

When the door opens, Jon steps inside.

You push your worry aside and beam at him before you run over to him to throw your arms around him. “Jon!” You greet and inhale, catching a whiff of smoke on his cloak.

“My love,” he whispers, “what are you doing up?” He pulls back and cups your cheeks with a smile that you right away know is feigned. Besides, when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are gleaming with tears, his eyebrows are low and pulled together, the corners of his lips are also trembling.

“What’s wrong?” You probe and search behind him for Rhaenar. “Where’s Rhaenar?”

Immediately Jon’s lips drop that feigned smile and his eyes lower. His hands slide down to your shoulders, and a shaky sigh escapes his lips. Now that worry you had pushed back rushes back tenfold, and your heart begins to pound slow but hard.

“What is it?” You press.

Jon swallows thickly and pushes the doors closed behind him before he slowly walks you to sit on the edge of the bed. You don’t insist, you wait this time.

“Y/N, my love,” he says and finally meets your gaze with cloudy eyes. “While we were out at sea…” he pauses and exhales deeply. “We were ambushed, they hit our ship with a cannon before they attacked…we tried, we fought hard, but there were losses due to a fire…Rhaenar didn’t make it...”

His lips kept moving as he kept speaking, but nothing else registers beyond those four tragic words. You couldn’t even hear the sound of your heart as it begins to pound within your chest, or the blood as it pumps in your veins, it’s utterly quiet as you take in what he said.

Rhaenar…your son. Your only son…didn’t…make it? He’s gone?

No. No. No. No….no…

He’s not gone. He’s not gone. You can’t accept it. Not your boy.

“I want to see him,” you cut Jon off between shallow breaths. “I want to see him. I want to see my son.” You stand up, but Jon grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him.

“It’s best if you don’t see the body,” he mutters with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

You scoff and pull your hand away in annoyance. “Best if I…” you can’t even finish the sentence and just push past him. When you open the doors, Sansa, Elia, Sarella, Arya, and the maester are outside waiting. And everyone except the Maester have tears in their eyes, whilst yours also remain dry.

“Y/N,” Sansa says first and steps towards you, but you avert her touch and pity and turn to face Jon following at your tail.

“Where is he?” You ask again. “Take me to him, or I will find someone who can.”

Jon clenches his jaw and glances at the maester, when he gets an approving nod, Jon hesitates but then walks past you to take you to Rhaenar. And with every step you take you fill yourself with hope that Rhaenar is actually alive. It’s foolish to everyone else perhaps to think so, but it’s not to you because he can’t be gone.

Once Jon stops just outside the door to the main hall, he hesitates to open the doors. You however are desperate and reach over, but he pushes them open first and reveals a single wooden table placed in the middle of the hall, over it lays a casket with a small body over it covered with a black shroud. And top of that body lays Helios all balled up.

You don’t hesitate to move, but this time you don’t rush, you slowly walk in as if any sound would wake him. Jon follows behind you slowly, whilst everyone else waits outside.

“Rhaenar?” You call in a shaky voice.

The boy lays still, you look at his chest and see no movement. And Helios, he breathes, but doesn’t open his eyes to see you, he remains there on top.

“Rhaenar?” You call again this time your voice breaks whilst that hope you built begins to break away, bringing back a…agonizing feeling to your heart.

When you finally approach the body you reach for the edge of the shroud. Helios finally moves from his position and snaps his eyes open, he parts his lips to growl, but when he notices it’s you he lowers his head again and closes his eyes to continue laying.

You then continue and begin to pull back the black shroud slowly. The moment you catch only a small glimpse of his forehead however, you quickly halt as you notice his flesh is…burnt, his skin isn’t brown like it was before, some of his dark black hair is gone from his scalp, and there’s bone that pokes through, causing you to gasp and cover your mouth as you’re slammed with the devastating realization once and for all that…Rhaenar…is…gone.

He’ll never come back, he’ll never breathe again, he’ll never smile, you’ll never see him. He’ll never be King or get married, he’ll never ride his dragon like he always dreamed to. He’s…gone. No.

No. No!

“No,” you cry out softly at first and cup his face. “No, Rhaenar,” you whimper. “My sweet boy, please.” You lower your head and press your forehead against his, and just stay there cradling him, letting tears escape out of your eyes, and feeling every second of your heart shatter completely by a sharp and excruciating pain. You feel your chest tighten until it feels like you can’t even breathe. All the world loses its color, and the air is bitter.

The pain grows so intense, it riddles your body, and that feeling like you can’t breathe deepens to the point that all you can do is finally cry out in grief. Whilst in the distance Eraxis loud sorrowful song fills the air at the same time.

“No!” You cry out and grip onto Rhaenar’s body. “No! My boy! My sweet boy! No!” Your legs begin to shake and they give up carrying your weight, however Jon catches you in time and pulls you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You sob out and fall to the floor with him. “No,” you weep. “Please. That’s my son, that’s my son!”

“Sarella!” Jon calls out for your cousin most likely to use one of her potions to put you to sleep so you won’t put strain on the babies. And you welcome it, but first you turn and grab onto Jon’s collar before you grab his jaw.

“Tell me Jon, tell me please my love…who was it? Who killed my sweet boy? Please?” You beg.

Jon exhales deeply, but doesn’t avert his gaze, he holds it and shares what you asked for with anger in his own eyes. “It was Daenerys….she sent her army, the Second sons undercover to ambush us.”

At the sound of his words, quickly, what accompanies your grief is now anger. Burning, fierce rage.

.

.

.

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

[vaulthistorian]

A/n: The first little thing for these two, I need soft moments between Joshua and Daniel.

Waking up with a familiar dry taste on your tongue is an all too uncomfortable and familiar feeling. Joshua's blunt fingertips scraped across the ground, the sun beating down on his body. His eyes slowly peeled open, the irritated skin making his vision blurry and his head pound.

He ground his fingers on the canyon ground, skin peeling and fresh blood dripping from the sensitive skin. The air around him smelled of burnt flesh and the copper smell of blood was pungent.

He grimaced, his knees scraped on the ground, striking blood from his irritated, puss-filled wounds.

His burnt hand shakily found its way to his stomach, rolling up onto his front. The unforgiving sun burnt down on him in the glaring wake of his sin.

His eyes fought to take in his surroundings. His body was discarded at the bottom of the canyon wall. And what was tossed down with him in a pile of burnt ash scattered around him.

He hung his head, grimacing in pain at the tearing skin at the back of his neck. The sun-dried his blood to his body, his vulnerable wounds taking it on like new flesh.

His drool dripped off his bottom lip, pooling on the rocky ground. He stumbled, forcing himself to his feet.

His last comprehensible memories were of Ceasar casting him down into his damnation. The fire burned hot around him, leaving him cold and in pain.

"Lord forgive my trespasses... I was a blind man." He chokes, coughing up blood and holding his throat in pain.

He dug his fingers into the rock. Blood dripped as he pulled himself up and blindly looked for his way out of the canyon. His feet pressed forward, already aware of what he needed to do.

He walked the road home. He found some comfort in the unforgiving waters of the Mojave, bathing his wounded body along the way. He cried as he wiped the cold water over his face and begged for forgiveness.

A sin he'd not yet finished paying, so it had seemed. Being cast into the canyon was not so far his life couldn't fall into further shambles.

If it wasn't for his actions when his family was slaughtered, perhaps he could have changed things. He wouldn't have to be the prodigal son he always read about and called foolish as a child. When he became that very man.

Even now, sitting in this small, dark cave he regrets his life. Haunted by the face of a man he'd chosen to forgive for his own righteousness.

Feet tipped across the cave floor. The loose pebbles scraped across worn leather boots, which attracted his gaze up from his thoughts.

Daniel offered him some semblance of a reassuring gaze as he came over. "Thinking so loud even I can hear you." He plucks his hat off of his head and sets it down on the table.

Joshua's handiwork was spread out, and somehow still neat among the chaos of the cave. The glowing fire illuminated his repetitive movements against the cave wall.

Daniel took off his gun and set it down, leaning it up against the table. He scuffed his boots and looked at Joshua. "Bandages doing alright?"

"As well as they can."

"If I could have done more, I would."

"I am aware." Joshua nodded.

Daniel had been on his back in a caring way for years. And I mean years. Despite the separation for upwards of 30 years since near childhood, Daniel and Joshua were always aware of each other. It was a funny thing how fate spun their new routes.

"If the trading caravans come in soon, we'll have enough medical supplies to change the bandages without running low."

Joshua huffed a dry laugh. "You don't need to worry about me. I can go a day or two without fresh linen."

Daniel picked up one of Joshua's guns, inspecting the handle and how easily the mag fell into his palm when he released the lock.

He mulled over the words in silence.

"Anything else you need?" Joshua asked, quick to get the point over with. If he wasn't dancing around a fancy speech, he wasn't entertaining any conversation. Even from his companion.

"Just don't overwork yourself will ya? That's the least you can do for me until we get medical supplies."

Joshua looked up at him, pausing in his work, flipping a magazine between his fingers. The cool metal felt like sin and saint on his fingertips at the same time.

"I will consider so."

"Joshua," Daniel frowned slightly. "Give it a day or two? Deal?"

Joshua flicked the mag and put it back into the gun. He slowly placed it down and leaned back, hands in his lap.

"Alright. Until medical supplies are in. Not like I'm worried about getting hit anyway, they can't shoot, and bullets alone can't kill me."

Daniel smiled fondly for a brief moment. "Yeah well let's keep the legend going, shall we? You're merely a man, Joshua Graham." He picked up his hat and set it on Joshua's head, his eyes gleaming softly. "One I intend to keep alive."

Joshua didn't say anything but allowed Daniel's touch to pass. Sometimes the touch of Daniel's hands was comforting. Warm fingertips against his leathery, torn skin.

Handling it with medical prowess from New Canaan. Bringing their old ways to life in the form of worn, rough hands.

Daniel tilted his head slightly. "What??" He smirked when he saw the lost, contended look in his friend's eye. Something he enjoyed seeing, despite it being a rare occurrence.

"Thinking," Joshua replied, looking back down. "Supper will be served for the Dead Horses soon."

"Mhm, and they'll need their weapons connoisseur. Come on, eat with the others." Daniel picked up his gun and turned back down the small path. Heading off to the mouth of the cave.

Joshua watched him go, admiring the way he carried himself so effortlessly. He reached up, gently brushing his fingers along the rim of Daniel's hat, still on his head.

A warm smile pulled at his cracked lips, shaking his head softly and following after his friend.

[hobartshobie]

a non-comprehensive list of "official" spider-punk merch that i cannot condone anyone stealing for legal reasons

please do NOT buy anything listed in this post. i'm trying to clown corporations for monetizing anti-capitalism.

$11 for a comic about a guy trying to save his community from the rot of capitalism when all it takes is a vpn and the right Totally Legal website to read the whole thing for free is almost an outright challenge

look at the price of this jacket and tell me you don't want to jump off a cliff. the $4 increase from an xs to a 3x is mocking us more than the jacket already was. go to a thrift store, brush up on painting and make it yourself. it will be cheaper and look so much more punk than this thing

i'm putting all the t-shirts in the same section. i've decided to put as much effort into this as the people who "designed" these shirts did. yet again animators and comic artists do all the leg work while guys with business degrees copy and paste their art onto a low quality shirt for $20 because their trust fund pulled them up by the bootstraps

okay i know i said i put all the shirts in the one section but this one just impresses me. it's objectively more boring than the other shirts in this post yet it's like $15 more expensive. it doesn't have the spider-punk branding which is the easiest part of selling spider-punk merch. also the marvel logo is there just to remind you this is funding copaganda. insanely low effort and expensive. never spend $37 on a t-shirt

i understand not everyone is good at art so "just make it yourself" isn't the solution here. i'd like to take this time to encourage you to look into artists that can give you something more worth your money. it may not be less expensive but it will be better than spending $30 on a poster which you should never do

hobart brown would be horrified to see the price on this thing. i legally can't tell you to steal it so i just won't say it. there's no reason on earth to pay this amount of money for this. "it's hard to resist" and "no ethical consumption under capitalism" etc etc. i get it. if the price doesn't de-motivate you just imagine that hobie would be throwing up at the idea. you're welcome

at this point they just don't understand the target audience of spider-PUNK. no hobie fan is paying $30+ for this. high prices only punish the ones who want to legally obtain the thing. don't be the guy who picks up the tab for the moron who wants to milk the anti-capitalism cash cow. you're better than that

hobie merch marketed toward children makes me laugh. i could go on about how this thing existing waters down anti-capitalism and hobie's connection to the punk subculture but it's low-hanging fruit.

all i can say about this is it being a 6 pack will stop no one. you don't need to spend $60 on this when all of this together should not be more than $25 maybe $30. there were higher quality spider-man action figures in burger king kid's meals in 2012 during tasm promo. also i can't tell you to steal it. remember that.

in conclusion,

corporations are very dumb for trying to make money off of spider-punk, the real official merch is made by hobie fans, and most importantly do not buy anything in this post

[kyliafanfiction]

If you still support harry potter shit I don't want you interacting with my posts

Then, my buddy, my pal, my sibling in Posts, curate your own tumblr experience and block me? It's not my job to look at every single person on a post I see and see if they're going to be aggrieved by something.

Also, I (a trans woman, btw) don't 'still support harry potter shit' in anything resembling the likely way you mean it, but if you're sending me this ask you're probably an idiot with poor critical thinking and reading comprehension skills, so I don't really know what I'm accomplishing with my reply here.

(Oh, wait, I do know, it's that I like to point and laugh at idiots)

But ultimately, it really is your job to curate your tumblr experience. If you don't want a specific person interacting with your posts, you block them. That's literally one of the main reasons the block function exists.

But you don't want to do that. Instead you want to virtue signal and screech and yell and police other people's behaviors as if that's actually going to achieve anything.

Like, what do you expect this ask will achieve? That I'll never interact with your posts again? I'm going to forget your username by the end of the day. This ask certainly isn't going to make my change my avatar, or stop reading the fanfic I do. I already don't financially support noted transphobic Blogger Rowling's side-gig as an author, and haven't bought anything or consumed anything that gives her a cut in at least six years, possibly more.

This ask isn't going to scare me into... anything, really. And I'm not going to block you because I want you to send me more hate messages. Because I LOVE idiots like you coming into my inbox and screeching at me. (No, Genuinely, I love it.)

So, either block me (and thus take responsibility for curating your own tumblr experience), shut up and go your own way, or, ideally, keep coming at me in my inbox.

Please? Pretty please?

0/10, low effort, weaksauce

[meghantheduchyofpitstains]

So, my mom was a 3rd grade teacher for 40 years.

She said when she first had to break kids into Reading groups (high level readers to low comprehension readers) she learned to look at their eyes and she could tell if they were bright or average.

She said after she broke them up by looking in their eyes and tested them she was always 90% right on (this is not to judge any kid or say they didn’t learn and get better this was when she knew nothing about them and had to get started teaching them at their skill levels)

My mom always says everytime she sees Harry’s .... “I’d put him in the lower Reading group. He has Dumb eyes.” (she’s 80 and says it like it is)

Sorry, but that makes me laugh!

[raisindave]

[Chapter 21] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

Seeing that the person in the mirror's movements matched your own was shocking. Makeup, carefully applied using methods beyond your comprehension, made your eyes look like a cartoon. If it weren't for the coven of yipping friends around you, you might have insisted the false eyelashes were too much. Long hair, soft and fragrant, spilled over your shoulders as the first sip of liquor started to breathe warmth into your system. One embarrassing story about a disastrous date led to an epic about having a scandalous one-night stand with a psychology professor, and the gaggle of girls was a whirlwind of preparation. Bubbling laughter erupted around you, eagerly fastening straps and clasping buckles on tight heels. 

After all, birthdays were precious to you. Each year, another year of life lived became more important to celebrate. One more year that you got to live. So many good people are gone before their time, and a bubbling sense of shame urged you to live each birthday to the fullest. Another private number's missed call. If it were work-related, it would come from the flip phone. There's no way in hell Laswell or anyone important would be dumb enough to contact your personal cell. This scam caller is persistent. 

If anything, one of the leading factors that inspired your change in heart and recent optimism about your body recalls your latest encounter. Being asked to parade yourself in front of evil men, smirking and snuggling with men that repulse you, made you fight for control of your own sexuality. Marín doesn't own you. Neither does Julien, and neither does Laswell. Tonight is all about reminding your conscience of that and reclaiming yourself. The sentiment was made easy by a batch of eager friends who are hungry to get you as drunk as possible on your birthday. Judging by the pace of drinks you were downing before leaving the house, the current mission was on schedule. Heels clacked down your porch stairs, funnelling into the back of some poor taxi driver's car, having to cooperate with six drunk women's hooting and hollering. 

It didn't take long until you surfed between bars, gauging each drink's price and finding the music playing at each location progressively better. Streetlights twinkled as the sidewalk rose to greet you with each staggering step. The night was electric, drinking in the humid air inside each bustling bar, endorphins dancing through your mind like your friends around you. It's like the DJs were reading your mind, finding the perfect song to make you sway your hips low and slow, lapping up the movements around you. 

You thought you were hallucinating. Someone must have slipped something into your drink, or maybe someone pricked you with a needle of some sort- because there's no way you just saw what you think you saw. No, it's real. That's Kyle- Kyle fucking Garrick. 

"Cricket!" Gaz shouted, sidling through the crowd to reach you, raising his palm to catch your attention above the jumping partygoers. 

"Lua answer yer' fucking phone!" Soap added, bounding past him, clearly already half in the bag. 

"How the fuck did you find my number, find me?" Your mind was still reeling with the recognition, the walls separating work and your social life now a distant memory. 

"Let's just say the SAS has their methods." Soap boomed, pulling you into a sidefaced hug. 

"You used SAS tracking technology to track my location?" you screamed, eyes wild with disbelief, pushing him off you as you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. 

There was Ghost, too, who was eyeing you blankly. You refused to let him suck the life from you. Not today. Soap responded with a shrug and feigned innocence, leaving you to question the validity of his whole story. Either way, you weren't done with questions just yet. 

"Where's Price?"

"It wasn't the geezer's type a' crowd," Gaz added, "plus, it already took our combined effort to convince this fucker to come with'" he gestured to Ghost, who was side-eyeing some particularly rowdy patrons beside him. 

Seeing these guys not in full-body armour and tactical gear was so bizarre. They all looked so ordinary. Jeans and rolled-up dress shirts, Gaz wore a flannel. Ever the oddball, Ghost still didn't drop his mask; instead, opting for a privacy mask with the bottom half of a skull face printed on it and a black hoodie with the hood up that gave roughly the same amount of coverage as his regular balaclava. What did catch your attention was pale, brown hair that fell in strands in front of his face, where previously you had questioned if he even had hair under that mug. It made your heart skip. Reminding you of the last time you dared to see more of what he looked like under his mask, only to get snapped at like a shepherd nips at his lambs. Be it from alcohol-fueled confidence or the fact that this wasn't in the formal military setting, you decided that you no longer had any reason to fear him, and you insisted on making sure he knew that. 

"Well, you guys need to catch up with us if you want to roll with us," you slurred.

"Oh, don't worry," Gaz put his arm around you, nearly putting you in a chokehold, "we stopped at a couple a' nearby pubs to see if you were in them."

Satisfied with their answer, though still no less confused, a song change forced you and all your friends to the middle of the dance floor with a choir of squeals. Once again, returning to the lively music, though now with an odd and slightly unsettled exhilaration that surged into your veins. Deafening bass music that pounded through your chest and passing laughter exchanged with giddy friends did enough to dissuade your withholding. They're here because they wanted to be here. Be here for you. An excuse to let loose after back-to-back missions promised a life-or-death situation in each. 

The crowd parted for a split second to let you catch Soap and Ghost leaning at the bar as they kick their heads back to shoot down a shot of amber liquid, Ghost quickly slipping his mask back down to reassume its protection. Without the searing taste affecting them, they moved forward, raising their fingers immediately to the bartender to repeat the round. At least they weren't expecting you to play babysitter, and they seemed perfectly content to handle themselves independently, despite this country being a foreign land to the native Brits. 

Song after song had you bouncing on your toes, belting each lyric to the nostalgic music with friends' lacing fingertips, ensuring you keep pace with their dancing. Hypnotic, neon lights flashing beams across your vision, searing past washes of clouds spurting from fog machines, alcohol making every atom in your body alight with energy. Air waved over the exposed skin of your chest, and you felt your hands glide over your own body, downing every molecule of energy in the room. The silky blue two-piece that had been picked out for you embraced every curve of your body, providing delicate pressure to squeeze every inch of your body into just the right places. 

Enraptured by the music and focused on dancing to the pounding beat, the girls didn't notice you slip away. You caught a glimpse of Soap flirting with your friend, leaning back against the bar and whispering a seemingly hilarious story into her ear. His arm around her was placed in a way you doubt her deadbeat boyfriend would approve of, but she seemed more than eager to return the attention. The mental image was a vision you washed away with the fruitiest, sweetest cocktail the bartender could manage. The world became smoother, gliding with your eye movements, and thrumming music became almost algorithmic in your mind, consistent and delicious. 

Sweeping eyes across the bar, your vision narrowed in on Ghost, calmly watching the bounding dancing, a black shadow cast on the corner of the bar. He stood resting his shoulder on the back wall, as he'd seemed to stow himself into the corner against the bar, giving him an excellent sniping position. He didn't seem uncomfortable though, nor displeased, only calmly observing, flickering his eyes over passing partygoers. You had always craved the unattainable, the impossible. It made your blood burn. A simmering ember lit into a raging inferno in your chest as you had just poured metaphorical gasoline, in the form of alcohol, onto your bonfire. The music around you was nothing compared to the thrumming pulse in your ear, fingernails raking over clammy palms. The climax of a thunderous song was the final kick to jump-start you into movement. 

You had already closed the distance, slipping your fingertips over his veined knuckles, taking the top of his hand in your palm. His fingers were still chilled, wet from the glass of iced whiskey he held seconds ago. Lifting his hand from the surface of the bar, you laid it to rest on top of your eyes, providing temporary coverage of your vision. Raising your now free hand, your digits slithered across his Adam's apple, using your thumb to pry his mask to rest just over his nose. Your mouth collided with his, pressing glossy, sultry lips to taste him in a clashing surge of heat. You didn't even have time to consider if this was a good idea before his hand on your back was pressing your body into his. Feverish and urgent, tasting each other's mouths as his searching hands lapped at all the energy across your skin, seemingly content with your blindfold. He tasted like Kentucky whiskey, warm and spicy, snaking hot fingers to explore the side of his neck. Lively partygoers provided privacy in numbers, just another couple in the crowd caught up in the charged atmosphere. He urged you closer with every gasping breath, clashing hot tongues together in frantic passion. it felt so right, so necessary. Like the feeling of your desperate exploration of each other's mouths, and hungry panting was an oasis in a barren desert.

You didn't even remember parting the kiss before you were whipped away. Another chain of squealing friends dragged you away from your encounter, denying your mind a moment's rest to gather itself. Your forearm collided with the swinging door of the women's bathroom, meeting the stark, sterile, and particularly shocking lighting of a public bathroom as your eyes reeled to adjust. Friends, strangers, and a pair of two women making out in the corner were what you were met with when you stumbled into their presence. Your eyes were wide, wild and dazzled. They were saying something to one another, but the crashing heartbeat in your ears hampered your ability to hear them. 

"I just made out with my Lieutenant," you blurted, the words leaping from your throat.

"Is that a good thing?" One of the unfamiliar women spoke up.

"What's your rank again? Weren't you like a Sergeant or something?" Your friend spoke up, pushing up her eyelashes as she leaned into the mirror, "I can't remember if that's higher or lower."

"Oooh, like Saving Sergeant Ryan?" Added an eager, though thoroughly intoxicated girl in a stunning red dress, eyes wide with excitement.

"Sarah, it's Saving Private Ryan," another stranger corrected.

"Oh." 

"I'm so fucked," you breathed, a bubbling cackle betraying your seriousness, eyes wide and focusing to stare into nothingness. 

"Well, if you play your cards right..." your friend added, eliciting a chorus of hoots and hollers from the surrounding ladies before the topic shifted to something new. 

That wasn't quite the comfort you were seeking. You didn't want to fuck him. That was just a spur-of-the-moment, self-soothing and slightly horny decision. He's probably thinking the same thing, if he's even thinking about it at all. For all you know, he could be doing the same thing with the next giggling pair of tits that walked into his field of view. Too many possibilities and a lack of certainty left your mind swimming, blinking past the trepidation and smoothing down jumbled hair in the shared mirror. 

For the rest of your friends, sucking face with some random stranger at the bar was less than uncommon, eagerly listening to the details, though not particularly bewildered. You, however, had a million and one reasons to be bewildered. You crossed an uncrossable barrier, which could permanently mar your record. Sure, you were seeking agency, but you weren't expecting your first action to be to dance tongues with someone who you thought wanted you dead. 

Swallowing your restraint, the dance floor was now yours to command. Crackling with newfound confidence and a faint sense of lingering dread, nobody could tell you each song wasn't matched your heartbeat. Swaying and grinding with the motions against people you'd never see again, your mind dared to question if any of your other teammates had seen your brush with Ghost. That's a thought that's best pocketed for later. Right now, the only thing in the world that mattered was the intoxicating movements of your dimly lit ballroom. 

A pull at the back of your skirt sends you staggering backwards, nearly falling if you weren't stopped by what felt like a brick wall. That smell, Kentucky whiskey and musk. A gasp slipped from your lips, tilting your head back and seeing Ghost's hungry eyes staring down at you, craning above your vision. His body was hot, radiating languid heat, creating a sweltering inferno that matched yours. 

"Close your eyes, darling," he purred into your ear. 

You didn't need to be told twice, shutting your heavy eyelids and rolling your shoulders back to invite whatever mystery was incoming. His palm rested on your belly, securing you firmly to rest against him as he prepared something beside him. His chest was flush against your back, treacherously warm and solid. A lack of ocular stimuli left you whirling to identify surrounding sounds instead but returning empty-handed with the familiar pounding of lively club music. 

"Good. Now, open your mouth." His voice growled through you, sparking goosebumps and electricity to surge down your back.

Parting your lips, you surrendered yourself to whatever was about to happen, feeling cool air flood across your damp tongue. Your mind flickered to the thought of this being some sort of military hazing joke, but the way his hand reached around your neck and gently tilted your chin to face the ceiling left you reeling. In a second, cold liquid splattered into your mouth, catching droplets that dribbled down your chin. Whirring neurons scrambled to connect sensations to reason. Ghost had just spit a tequila shot into your waiting mouth. Worst of all, you obediently and eagerly gulped up the alcohol he spat into you, leaving your face flush with searing heat. He permitted you to close your mouth with gentle guidance on your jaw, allowing you to graciously swallow the bitter liquid as another shiver ran down your spine. His fingers slid over your molten skin, a cold hand splayed across your heaving belly, finding yourself feverishly pressing your whirling hips into him, slow and dangerous. This cannot be happening. You are so fucked. 

"You liked that, hm?," he breathed into your ear, voice gravelly and low.

"I've seen better." 

<< Prev Chapter           Next Chapter>>

Master List

[turnthemasunder-if]

I have a NSFW question, so please be aware! *Kisses Maria's forehead and quickly leaves the room before she murders me*

Thank you.

Well Happy advance Bday Gift from me Friend! So I decided to make this snippet very cute and corny at the same time. I hope you enjoyed it :) Also sing along lol.

(Maria's POV)

Maria's body trembled with exertion as she pushed herself to the limits of her physical and mental strength. Beads of sweat dripped from her furrowed brow, mingling with the sharp sting of determination in her eyes. Every breath she took was a battle cry, fueling the fire burning within her.

The silver sticks in her hands felt weightless, an extension of her very being. With each swing, they sliced through the air with a swiftness that defied comprehension. The clashing of metal reverberated through the training room, a symphony of power and precision. Maria's muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored their pleas, channeling her pain into every strike.

Her senses were heightened, the smell of sweat and leather filling her nostrils, mingling with the metallic tang of anticipation. The room seemed to pulse with energy, the air charged with electricity. She could taste victory, tantalizingly close, as she danced through the intricate steps of her training routine.

Then she brought the sticks together and extending it into a staff, twirling it faster and faster in her fingertips before bringing it behind her back and settling into a stance. She swept her arms out and slammed the staff onto the floor, creating a resounding thud that seemed to shake the entire room.

She leaned close, eyes darting to her side, body taut and tensed. Something was wrong, a creeping dread settling in the pit of her stomach. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, then the door to the training room burst open and figure came rushing in and closing it behind them. "Tarnish?" she asked curious and concerned at the same time.

Tarnish who always exudes charisma and confidence is now shaken like a leaf and sweating profosuly. She gasped and went up to him. "Whats wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost? Who followed you?. Tarnish's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His body was still shaking as his gaze darted wildly around the room. He let out a low groan, clutching his side where a dark stain had begun to spread across his shirt. "Maria I need to tell you something!" they gasp and clutching their wounded side.

Maria lean close and using her body so that Tarnish can lean on to her for support. "Tarnish what wrong tell me?". Tarnish slowly eases down and put their back on the wall. Then Tarnish lean forward, blood dripping from his mouth. "Maria you must be brave, it's a doozy" he whispers urgently. She stares at them, fear rising in her throat. She tried to make sense of his words, but all she could see was the blood and the fear in his eyes. "What are you talking about?" she cried.

Then without any hesitation, Tarnish rush forward and kissed Maria on the forehead. "Bullseye!" they say laughing and moving to Maria's side and opening the door and exiting it. Maria is left shell shocked and confused."Tarnisshhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed.

She runs after Tarnish, seeing the end of their jacket biwlloing before diappreing on a ahllway. "I will whoop your ass till kingdom come!" Maria curses and give chase. Then apporaching the turn, she saw Tarnish entereda room and closing it with a bang. She rashead foward and bursted in.

Then pausing before she reached Tarnish, her senses were overwhelmed. The space was dark and dusty with a the right light to see everything, with cobwebs festooning every corner. But what stunned Maria was the banner that was hanging in the middle it reads. "Happy Valentines Day!" then a music started to play in the air with Tarnish dancing and singing.

If you're alone and you need a friend Someone to make you forget your problems Just come along baby take my hand I'll be your lover tonight

Whoa oh whoa oh This is what I wanna do Whoa oh whoa oh Let's have some fun

Whoa oh whoa oh One on one just me and you Whoa oh whoa oh Boom boom boom boom

I want you in my room We'll spend the night together From now until forever

Boom boom boom boom I wanna go boom boom And spend the night together Together in my room

Whoa oh whoa oh Everybody get on down Whoa oh whoa oh

Vengaboys are back in town Whoa oh whoa oh This is what I wanna do Whoa oh whoa oh Let's have some fun Whoa oh whoa oh One on one just me and you Whoa oh whoa oh

They started to dance with hips swaying, legs dipping up and dwon and fingers near their chest and forming a heart shape. Tarnish is acting like those Japanese anime dancers that Maria she's in T.V. so it made her giggle a little but she quickly composes herself.

Tarnish begins to advance and moving their way toward Maria. The room seems to shift with each move they make, colors dancing and swirling, making the world into a glorious mess. Maria stares at their soulful eyes, a warmness creeping over her body, and a shiver racing up her spine. "What are you doing?" she ask albeit disgusted and touched at their gesture.

"Remember the time that we have a mission in Paris during that summer festival," Tarnish asks sheepishly. "Yeah, you caught me crying and my ice cream had melted. I wasn't upset because of the rain. I was homesick and missing my parents. But then you walked up to me, and offered me a flower. I thought you were so cute, that I just wanted to keep talking with you for the rest of the night. That's when we became best close friends. But also remember that moment when we danced under the moonlit night on that gazebo? And we were the only ones there, and we twirled and spun, and suddenly you just leaned in and kissed me.

Maria blinked. Her mind was reeling, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She'd always been attracted to Tarnish, but she never imagined they would share the same feelings.".

"Well, I know you probably thought I was just being silly or messing around, but that kiss meant a lot to me. It was my first real kiss. And to this day, I never regretted it." Tarnish's voice had dropped to a whisper, their words weaving a spell over Maria. She found herself closing the gap between them, their bodies just inches apart. "I was afraid to tell you how I felt. I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way. And, to be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to commit to anything. But now, I see how silly I was being. Spending all these years loving you, but too afraid to admit it. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you, Maria."

A slow smile spread across Maria's face, and she felt a rush of emotions welling up inside of her but she crossed her arms she's not yet ready to crack her tough facade just yet. "Really?" she ask voice flat and even. "Yes," Tarnish said nervously. "Uh huh!" Maria looked into Tarnish eyes,!

"You may have hit me with a few corny jokes and pranks today, but you also swept me off my feet with your song and dance number. I can't tell you how touched I was by your thoughtfulness and your heartfelt words.".

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Tarnish said, their hands running through Maria's hair. But Maria swat their hands away. "I didn't say I agreed to your love!" she clicked her tongue.

"NO FAIR!" Tarnish pouts. "Even though I did that dance just for you?"

"Especially when you did that dance!" Maria deadpans, before bursting into laughter. "But really, that was very sweet of you. No one's ever done anything like that for me before."

"Then maybe you should take a chance with me," Tarnish teased. "I bet you can make me see fireworks."

"As long as I don't have to see another dance of yours," Maria snarked. "But seriously, I'm happy that you shared this with me."

"You're not happy yet," Tarnish laughed. "Wait until you see what I have in store." Then without warning, Tarnish planted their lips against Maria's. Maria was taken aback by the suddenness, but after a moment, she closed her eyes and let the feeling wash over her.

They leaned into the kiss, the world around them melting into a blur of sensations. Maria could feel the warmth of Tarnish's breath, the faint tickle of their fingers resting gently on her shoulders. She never imagined that a kiss could be so powerful, that a single moment could change the course of her entire life. Then she steps back and raised a hand and bitch slap Tarnish on the cheek. "Ouch!" Tarnish says rubbing their cheek with a sly grin on their lips.

"No kissing without my permission!" Maria chastise them playfully. "Whatever you say, boss."

"Now then, why don't we go catch a movie or maybe grab some lunch?" Tarnish suggested. "Sure, why not?" Maria agreed, and they headed for the door.

"By the way," Maria added. "This was the best Valentine's Day gift anyone's ever given me."

"And you haven't seen anything yet my loving side.!"

With a laugh, Maria reached out and took Tarnish's hand in her own, and they walked out into the chilling moonlight, the scent of the city and fresh air wafting to her nose.

[gothicprep]

tbh people's ability to detect irony is really diminished when the flavor of irony is associated with politics they find distasteful.

to use a dumb example without emotional stakes, one thing my wife does sometimes is she'll join a tankie facebook group and stir shit with the most low-effort bait you can imagine, and she'll be howling laughing because it works every time. shit like "joe brandon is a communist", tankie facebook gets all hot and bothered and says some larpy insult about "up against the wall" or gulags, rinse and repeat. she'll get kicked out and tell me something about how poe's law ruined everyone's reading comprehension or comment on the hypocrisy about how people on the left tend to be more sensitive about things like death threats, but make an exception for commie-themed death threats. typical tuesday. fwiw i think there are better uses for her time, but it is what it is.

but what i'm getting at is that, like, if you read "joe brandon is a communist" and think it's self-evidently ridiculous, you need to remember that there's a non-zero chance that it's supposed to be.

or, to bring up the incels again, i remember reading some expose vox or some similar outlet did, where they talk about the phrase "going ER", and describe it as "this is in reference to INCEL KILLER ELLIOT RODGER, whom they WORSHIP like a GOD." but like. you can just go to an incel forum. it's not like this is paywalled in a scientific journal. and if you bother to get your hands dirty, it becomes obvious that the way this is used is to mock people who break kayfabe by getting way too emotional.

unfortunately, if we all collectively got better about noticing this, ben collins types who've made fortunes off reporting on why tradwives are a national security threat would either need to find a new beat or look for a different job.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 2

Word Count: 4.8k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, jealousy, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, riding, toys, orgasm denial.

If you want to commission me, click here.

Now that Taehyun is working with you, Beomgyu is not content to just drive you to work as he always does. No, now he has to walk you inside, arm wrapped tightly around you to make sure everyone, especially Taehyun, knows you’re claimed.

“Oh, hey.” Taehyun greets when he sees you. “You look beautiful today.” 

You don’t get the chance to properly glare at him for purposefully annoying your boyfriend before Beomgyu twists you around and smashes your lips together, pulling you into a kiss that is far too indecent for public.  

Yet another co-worker snorts. "We get it dude. She's yours. Are you gonna pee on her to claim your territory too?"

Your cheeks flame up and you shove Beomgyu away, absolutely mortified by the spectacle he has made of you. “Beomgyu!”

“What? Don’t want him to see who you belong to?” He asks, daring to sound upset at you.  

“Everyone knows we’re dating. Get your head out of your ass.” You smack his hands completely off you, livid at his underhanded accusation. 

“Wouldn’t hurt to remind him.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes, ushering him out of the cafe before you get fired for an indecent act in the workplace. “Leave. You’ve done enough.” 

You don’t give him the chance to respond before you step back into the restaurant and slam the door in his face, trying your best to avoid everyone’s gaze. You quickly get dressed then step behind the counter, getting the orders ready for the customers streaming in, trying to shake off the strong sense of deja-vu you felt at the way Beomgyu behaved. Those dream are really messing you up. 

“Your boyfriend really doesn’t like me, huh?” Taehyun comments, working alongside you. 

“Don’t take it personally. He gets jealous easily.” You sigh, brushing it off. 

“It sure feels personal though. It’s like I killed his cat in the past or something.” 

“Funny you should say that.” You snort, but don’t elaborate, not wanting to deal with another guy ridiculing you for your dreams.

But Taehyun is intrigued, and he doesn’t drop it. “What do you mean?”

“Forget about it.” You brush him off, handing a customer their drink with a forced smile, but that makes him even more curious. As you go to make another drink, he takes the coffee pot from your hand, forcing you to look at him. “No, tell me.”

“Taehyun, there are customers waiting.” You snap but he just shrugs. “So? They can survive five minutes without their morning lattes.” 

You give him a pointed look. “Yeah? Have you met our clientele? They’re mean when they’re low on caffeine.” 

“I can handle it. Just tell me.” He reassures you, but conspicuously starts making a new drink. 

“Okay fine, but don’t laugh. You asked for it.” He nods, waiting patiently for you to explain. “So I keep having these dreams about me and Beomgyu in another life, a past life. He’s a prince and I’m a lady of the court and we want to be together but we can’t because he’s betrothed to someone else and so everything is all fucked up but we love each other so much and want to be with each other anyway. It’s all very fanciful and silly but then again the dreams are so vivid, it’s like I’m really there. It feels more real than my actual memories, you know?”

He nods, a small smirk on his face that tells you that he doesn’t really buy what you’re saying–you don’t really buy what you’re saying either–but he’s kind enough to hold his tongue and not make fun of you like Beomgyu does.

“Anyway, you’ve been appearing in the dreams lately too.” That catches his interest, and he listens even more intently. “You’re this powerful lord from another city and we start getting close which dream Beomgyu really hates. He tries so hard to keep us apart that he even ends up locking me in my room so I wouldn’t see you but you sneak in to see me anyway, and then… Well, I don’t know what. That’s all I know so far. He basically wants to kill you because you won’t stay away from me. Dream him, I mean… though, I’m not too sure real Beomgyu doesn’t want to kill you too.”

“Oh, please, I can take him.” He says confidently and you look him over. Sure, he looks like he’d be able to take Beomgyu. Physically he appears stronger than your boyfriend, but there is just something about Beomgyu you don’t like to think about that causes the hairs at the back of your neck to stand up.  

“Anyway, that is all very intense.” He finally says, “You have quite the imagination.” 

“I knew it. You think it’s stupid.” You flush, embarrassed that you revealed all of this to him. 

“No, no. It’s not stupid. It’s not real, but it’s not stupid.” He reassures you, or at least he tries to. “Maybe these dreams are your brain’s way of working through issues you’re having with your boyfriend? I mean, I didn’t show up in your dreams before you saw me, right? And it was only after seeing how Beomgyu got so aggressive with me that you had the dreams about him trying to keep us away from each other, right?”

“I guess…” What he’s saying makes sense. Maybe it’s just your brain trying to make sense of the whirlwind that is your romantic life with Beomgyu. 

“Well, there you go.” He proclaims, “Maybe the way to stop these dreams is to work out the issues you’re having with Beomgyu.” 

“Easier said than done.” You snort, and once again Taehyun is not letting your little passive-aggressive comments pass by. “What do you mean?”

You sigh. “He’s impossible to talk to about these things. He either gets so defensive you can never fault him for his behavior or he freaks out about us breaking up that I end up needing to comfort him for his own bad behavior.” 

Taehyun wears a frown on his face. “That doesn’t sound too healthy. If you can’t even talk things through then how can you expect your relationship to survive?” 

“Don’t say that. Beomgyu is a wonderful guy and a loving boyfriend. He just gets insecure and needs reassurance. It’s because his ex fucked him up or something.” You mutter the last part bitterly. If she hadn’t messed him up so much, Beomgyu would have literally been the perfect boyfriend. 

“But that’s not your fault. What she did to him has nothing to do with you. If he can’t separate the two then he doesn’t deserve to be with you.” 

You shake your head. “You’re being too harsh on him.” Yes, Beomgyu is acting like an ass right now but that doesn’t take away from all the wonderful things he is. 

“Am I? If you let this go then he’ll only get worse.” 

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you should stand up more to Beomgyu. Things can get really bad when he gets into his head, but when he’s good, he’s really good and that always brings you right back into his arms. 

________________

As if he could read your thoughts, Beomgyu takes you out on a much needed date at the local arcade, seemingly aiming to make you forget about the erratic way he has been acting lately. 

You’re both video game fans, especially those old games you used to play growing up, and so this is like Disneyland for you. You have so much fun recalling all the good times you had playing these classic games, only you get to enjoy them with the person you love this time around, and damn does it feel ten times more fun with Beomgyu. 

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Beomgyu screams, trying to keep up with you but failing miserably, messing up his steps on the dance dance revolution game, and allowing you to take the lead. “No, this is too fast–ahhhh!”

You laugh at his exclamations, messing up a few steps of your own as you sneak glances at him, enjoying the way he makes such a show of it, always aiming to entertain and get a laugh out of you and everyone else. You know he doesn’t actually care about losing. He just wants to make it fun for you. 

The machine makes a noise that indicates the game is over and that you’ve won, and the small crowd that has gathered to watch you because of your boyfriend's antics cheers for you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” You give a gracious bow, before pulling your stupid boyfriend into a kiss that receives a couple of woohoos. 

“I know. I know. I can’t believe she’s dating me too.” He says and you smack his shoulder shyly. “Shut up. You’re such a simp.” 

 “No, I’m not. I’m just appreciating my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend who–”

“Get a room! Some of us actually want to play.” A teen shouts out at you, and his friends jeer in agreement, forcing you off the game with embarrassed giggles. 

“Wow, kids are mean.” Beomgyu exclaims and you laugh. “Kids? We’re barely a couple of years older than them.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Beomgyu comments, not seeming to share your laughter. 

“Hey, are you okay? They were jerks but they’re just teens, you know?” You try to comfort him. You know how mean teens can be, but Beomgyu just shakes his head and gives you a big smile. “Oh no, I’m not thinking about that at all. I just remembered something… doesn’t matter. Let’s go play another game.” 

“Okay…” You trail off uncertainly, unsure if he’s really okay. But then you spot something that takes your attention away. “Oh, let’s go play that shooter game! There is a toy there that I really want!” 

You step towards it, but as soon as you do, you’re being pulled back by your boyfriend. “I don’t really like shooter games. Too violent, you know?”

“It’s an air gun.” You explain slowly as if he doesn’t grasp the concept, and he shrugs.  “Well, it still teaches violence to kids. Today an air gun, tomorrow a school shooting.” 

You roll your eyes at his silly dramatics. “Too bad we aren’t kids then. We’re a whole couple of years older than kids. Now come on.” You drag him behind you, sights already set on a teddy bear that reminds you of Beomgyu. 

“I wanna win that one! Add it to my beargyu collection at home.” You clap excitedly, and the man at the stand hands you a gun to use.

“She’s got a good eye. She picked the best prize.” The man tells Beomgyu then turns back to you. “You have to shoot all the cans down to be able to win that one.”

“Yeah. She has expensive taste, that one.” Beomgyu comments and you pout, playfully shoving him. “Gyu!” 

“Is it not true?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you push your head up defiantly. “I just have high standards, that’s all.” 

“I know, baby. And you deserve the best.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it, making you blush. 

“Are you going to shoot?” The man asks impatiently, bored with you and Beomgyu’s public displays of affection. You don’t care though, sending Beomgyu a kiss and a wink.. 

Still, it’s gonna be challenging winning that bear, and you have to concentrate. 

“Okay…” You take a deep breath and get into position, turning towards again Beomgyu and squeaking a quick ‘pray for me’ before you look back and start shooting. 

And damn, you’re a lousy shot. 

At the start, the cans are all lined up next to each other so you manage to fell a lot of them just by generally shooting in their direction, but as their numbers dwindle, you start completely missing them. 

“Baby, you’re trying to shoot the cans, not the other patrons.” Beomgyu quips and you glare at him, almost shooting him too, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Just saying.” 

“Well, don’t say.” You grit, missing even more shots. 

“Damn it!” You exclaim in frustration, seeing your chances go down with each missed shot, and eventually running out of ammo. “Ughhhhh.” 

“Cheer up, baby. You tried your best.” Beomgyu tries to comfort you, “You just–”

“I wanna try again.” You proclaim, smacking more tickets down on the counter and gesturing for the worker to reload your gun before trying again. 

And again. And again. And again. Each time failing more miserably than the last, the frustration getting to you. 

“Baby, we’re running out of money here. Soon, I’m gonna have to sell my kidney to give you arcade money.” Beomgyu appeals to you once more, urging you to give up.

“Fine!” You give a huge sigh, finally handing over the gun sadly. “I just really wanted it.” 

“Why? We have a million teddy bears at home.” 

“I know but I wanted that one.” You pout, moving a finger across his chest coyly. “Can you try to win it for me?”

“Babe–”

“Pretty, please.” You turn on the puppy-dog eyes that you know have been very effective on him in the past.

He sighs, looking defeated. “You know I would do anything for you.” 

“Yes! Works every time.” You congratulate yourself, preparing to watch your pacifist boyfriend flounder just like you did, but planning to enjoy anyway. 

Except he doesn’t. To your absolute shock, Beomgyu clears the game on the first try. 

“Wow, you’re really good at this.” You clap, amazed, and give him a big hug. “When did you learn this?”

“Oh. I used to play this game a lot as a kid.” Funnily enough, you feel like you’ve watched him do this before. Maybe it was in one of your prince dreams…

“See? And you didn’t become a violent psychopath. You were worrying for nothing.” You tease him, holding your hard-earned teddy bear up and giddily spinning around with it. 

“Excuse me.” A small voice calls out, halting your merriment and you look down to see the most adorable child tugging at your skirt. Well, you see a blurry, double vision of an adorable child as your poor brain tries to recover from the celebratory spinning. 

“Oh, hello. Aren’t you just the cutest thing?” You gush. “What’s your name?” 

“Ben.” He says, and Beomgyu gasps, equally as dramatic as you. “Well, that is just the cutest name ever.” 

“Thank you.” Ben plays with his fingers and swings shyly from one foot to the other. 

“Are you lost, Ben?” Beomgyu asks, getting down to his knees in front of the child. “Where is your mommy?” 

The child points off somewhere.

“Do you want us to take you to her?” You ask, but he shakes his head. “No. I just wanted to say that… that I like your bear and and–can we trade? You can have my toy instead!” He presents you with a small bright orange and yellow toy truck.  

“Aw, you cheeky little thing.” Beomgyu tuts, “That is very generous, but I just won this for the pretty lady and I think she wants to keep itt.” 

You do. You really want to keep it. But Ben looks so disappointed at hearing that, that you don’t have the heart to refuse him for long. 

“That’s okay, Gyu. He can have it.” You intervene, and Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at you skeptically. “Are you sure? You made such a fuss about it.” 

You shoot him a glare. “I know but he’s a kid and he wants it.” 

“The way you were acting earlier, one could’ve easily mistaken you for a kid too.” He mumbles and you smack the back of his head in indignation. “Hey!” 

The sound of Ben’s purely ecstatic laughter at what you did grabs both your attention and prevents you from further squabbling. 

“You like seeing me smack the stupid man?” You raise your hand towards Beomgyu threateningly and he cowers dramatically. “I stand corrected. I shouldn’t have been worrying about kids learning violence from games when they can just learn it from people like you.” 

“Aw, you wound me, baby.” You let your hand down to smooth down his hair affectionately. “This is just a tried and true discipline technique. I’ll show you more when we get home.” You give him a wink and he blushes. 

“Alright, let’s take you to your mum.” You announce to the kid, handing him the toy bear and giggling at the way he struggles to walk while holding the giant thing. 

When you’re within sight of his mother, she calls out, relieved. “Ben! There you are!” She runs to hug him. Or tries to hug him but she can’t really with the stuffed animal in the way. “Where did you get that teddy bear from?”

“We gave it to him.” You explained happily and she gasps, turning to scold him. “Did you ask them to give it to you? You know I told you you to stop doing that. It’s not polite—He’s always asking strangers for things, pretending to be all cute and innocent to swindle people out of their belongings. It’s really not nice… or safe!” She explains to you, before turning back to her son. “Now give the bear back to the nice couple.” 

“But I don’t wanna!” He throws a tantrum, and you and Beomgyu exchange an amused look. 

So the little rascal was playing you. Well done. 

“That’s fine. He can keep it.” You tell his mum, but she won’t hear it. “Not, it’s not. You don’t have to–”

“We want to.” You reassure her, and Ben looks at his mother expectantly, his little face praying that she’d allow him to keep the bear and she sighs. “Fine. Though you’re only enforcing bad habits.” She gives you both a stern look and Beomgyu gives a small apologetic bow. “We’re sorry, ma’am.” 

You fight to contain your giggles as she turns to her son. “What do we say, Ben?”

“Thank you!” He chirps happily. 

“You’re welcome.” You both laugh. “Enjoy it.”

“I will!”  

“See you, Ben.” Beomgyu crouches down to say goodbye to him, raising his hand up so Ben can give him a high five, which he does enthusiastically.  

“Bye.” You wave goodbye to Ben and his mum, walking away with Beomgyu. 

Seeing how sweet Beomgyu was with Ben… how naturally he acted and how at ease the kid was with him… it made you yearn for things you can’t have. It made you want to have that–to have a child that is yours and Beomgyu’s. But you can’t ask him that of him, not after what he told you, not for a while, at least. 

Too preoccupied with the thoughts, you don’t think to hide them from Beomgyu, and he quickly notices the shift in your mood. 

“What?” Beomgyy asks, and you look at him in confusion, so he explains, “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“Oh.” You blink away the tears from your eyes, not even having realized they had gathered there, silently fighting against the weird emptiness that seeing him interacting with the child has opened up in you. “Nothing. I'm just suddenly really tired. Let's go home."

You can tell he doesn’t buy your excuse. “Did you want the bear? You know you could’ve said–”

“No. No. It’s not that, really. I just…” You trail off and a look of realization comes over his face. You quickly add on, “Beomgyu, it’s really nothing. Let’s just go home, okay?” 

Still, he doesn’t believe it. But he gathers you in his arms anyway and gives you a sweet peck on the lips. “Okay.”

He’ll always give you what you want. 

_________________________________

“You can be so good to me. Why do you have to be such an ass sometimes?” You murmur against his lips.

“I just can’t afford to lose you–ah–” He trails off in a moan as you continue to ride him. 

"You really will do anything to keep me, huh?" You clench around him, making him automatically buck under you. “Ah-ah-ah, I said no moving, baby.” 

"Yes, darling.” His hands fist at the sheets in an effort to keep his body from reacting to the way you’re fucking him so tortuously. 

“Call me princess. I liked it when you did that.” 

“Baby…” He protests, and you move your hands up his torso to brush your thumbs across his nipples before you bend down and lick one. “Come on, my prince, you said you’ll do anything for me.” 

“Yes, princess.” You could practically feel his cock twitching inside you as you let go of his nipple with a pop to sit back and properly ride him, really quickening your pace to reward him for his compliance. 

It’s so easy to get Beomgyu to do what you want. He’ll bend over backwards to keep you happy. He just gets too in his head sometimes and starts getting paranoid so you need to shut his brain down. 

And shut down it is, right now. He’s entirely under your mercy, laying down for you to ravage him and loving every second of it. “Oh god. Close, princess. So close.” 

“Don’t cum yet.” 

“Please, I can’t.” He croaks. Oh, how you love to see him struggle. It’s like a drug to you, seeing how much he needs you. 

“Hold it.” You pant, bouncing on top of him, intent to push him right to the edge, and when you feel like he’s about to fall over it, you quickly get off him, his red cock smacking against his tummy, dribbling precum as it twitches from the denial. 

“Fuck… fuck…” Beomgyu curses, his body entirely wound up from the pent up frustration and lust. 

"Shhh." You hush him with a kiss that he hungrily reciprocates, the wet sounds of lips and tongues meeting echoing around the room. When you pull back his lips are shiny with spit and his eyes are drowning with need. But he never reaches out for you, never tries to take what he wants. Your pretty prince. 

You lean forward to open up the bedside table, taking out your vibrator. Beomgyu stares, wide-eyed, as you grab his cock and sink down on it once again. But this time instead of riding him, you swivel your hips around and turn on the vibrator, pressing it to your clit.

“Oh, you’re going to kill me.” He groans, squirming under you as the vibrations and the way your cunt is clenching around him build his high up once again..

"No cumming until I do." You order, and he’s unable to keep his hands to himself anymore, choosing instead to grab at your thighs, his body needing to latch onto yours–just holding onto you to keep him tethered, never forcing you to give him more no matter how much he wants it. 

"I don’t know if I can hold it.” 

"You will. Or do you need me to put a cock ring on you?" You threaten, but the small involuntary thrust of his hips surprise you. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I like anything you do to me.” He confesses, making your skin tingle. 

You grind on him faster, moving the vibrator up and down your slit, feeling your release looming near. 

“Oh my fucking god, princess, please.” 

"What is it, baby?” You gasp, thighs starting to spasm from the impending orgasm. “You wanna cum?"

"Uh-huh." He whimpers pitifully like a dog begging for his master to reward him. “You know, I do.” 

Of course, you do. It’s so obvious, he’s practically on the verge of crying, but it’s always so fun to tease him about it. 

"But I thought you said you'd let me do whatever I wanted to you, and I like keeping you on the edge. Love seeing you go all dumb for my pussy." You pout, acting like you’re upset and he eats it all up. 

"I’m sorry… I just need it." He cries, head thrown back and his nails digging into your skin. "Close–so close–please–oh god, please—"

“Cum for me, gyu. Fill me up.” You finally have mercy on him, taking the vibrator away as your pussy clenches around him, milking him of his seed as you hurl over the edge. 

“Yes—oh, princess–ahhh–” He holds your hips and ruts up into you, releasing his cum inside you and filling you up just like you wanted. 

It takes you both a while to come down from your orgasms, the delayed gratification bringing out a very intense high. But when you do, he pulls you down to him, wrapping you safely in his arms. 

“I’m sorry for being so crazy lately. I just love you so much.” He presses a kiss against your damp forehead. 

“I know, baby. I love you too.” You reciprocate fully, but as the high wears off, doubt starts to set back in. “But you can’t keep acting that way. I am not going to cheat on you with Taehyun and it hurts me that you would even doubt that.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just… my ex. She–”

“Let me guess, cheated on you.” You roll your eyes, not meaning to diminish his pain but you just hate his ex so much. “But baby, I’m not her. I love you. Only you.” 

“I know, but… it would just make me feel better if you didn’t talk to him.” 

“He’s my co-worker, I have to talk to him.” 

“Plenty of people don’t talk to their co-workers. In fact plenty of people maintain a very healthy mutual animosity with their coworkers. I think you should try that.” 

“Beomgyu.” You deadpan, exasperation clear in your tone. 

“Fine. I’ll try to tone it down.” 

“Thank you. I really don’t want to… lose you.” 

He frowns, pushing you back so he can fully see your face. “You won’t. You will never lose me.” He says it with absolute certainty, and maybe his promise was meant to sound reassuring, but something about the way he said it makes you shiver. 

“Are you cold, baby?” He asks, concerned. 

“I… I guess.” 

“Come here.” He pulls you down into his arms, wrapping you up in that warm embrace that seems to always make you forget about all the wrong he’s done. When you’re in his arms, it’s like the world slips away and it’s just you and him and the love you have for each other. None of those troubling thoughts can reach you here, none of the doubts. 

Just you and him. Forever. 

_____________________________________

“Don’t talk to her that way.” Beomgyu snarls at Taehyun, looking like he is going to spring forward and attack him but you hold onto him tightly.  

“Beomgyu, stay. Let me talk to him alone.” You whisper to him but he shakes his head. “No.” 

You lean closer to him so only he can hear you. “Come on, Beomgyu, we had a deal. Anything you want after, just let me talk to him.” 

He throws a hateful look towards Taehyun, obviously not happy with what’s happening, before he looks back at you and pulls you into a sudden kiss. Your hands shoot up to his chest, trying to push him away but his own hands hold onto you, one grabbing the back of your head and the other squeezing your ass. 

“My lord, this is not proper.” You hear someone reprimand, making you flush with humiliation and reminding you that you have more than one witness to Beomgyu’s mortifying display of ownership over you. 

“I can still taste my cock on your tongue, princess.” Beomgyu says loudly enough for Taehyun to hear before finally letting you pull away, ignoring your incensed look in favor of smirking at Taehyun. You follow his gaze to find that Taehyun looks to be seconds away from exploding. 

“Fucking stay here.” You grit out at Beomgyu, your outrage giving you the strength you need to make your way towards Taehyun without trembling anymore. 

“Is this what you left me for? Just to go back to being treated like a piece of meat?” Taehyun denounces in disgust once you’re standing in front of him. 

Left him for? What?

It is at that moment that you wake up from your dream, filled with feelings of shame, disgust and guilt. 

Now what could this mean? If Taehyun is right and your dreams are meant to express your discomfort with the way Beomgyu is treating you, then why are you dreaming that you and Taehyun were together? Are you completely overthinking this? Is it just weird dream happenstance? 

You mean, it did mirror what happened earlier with Beomgyu kissing you in front of everyone so maybe that’s what your mind was going for and it just started acting wonky the way brains on dreams do. 

But why, as always, does it feel so devastatingly real? Why do you still feel like you’ve betrayed Taehyun somehow? 

_________________________________________

A/N: our dear old crazy possessive beomgyu ❤️😂

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a travel journal

2am my-time, monday, july 24, 2023

Awake and giddy and trying to calm down after completing what I think may accidentally actually be a decent conference paper, a few short hours before I need to present it—some thoughts on the things that have kept me entertained and sane while on necessary breaks from writing! writing this on my phone so there’s no read-more, apologies.

reading

having a very good time alternating between after Sappho, selby wynn schwartz, and an angela carter short story collection called the bloody chamber. both very ~feminist~ but in ways that are subtly distinct—you can tell which came out in 2021 and which did not—but both so interesting. I think I may DNF this other unnamed spy-urban fantasy, unfortunately, which sucks because the premise was good, the execution is just very grating. assorted other libby holds include italo calvino’s the baron in the trees, ty @morrak and carmen maria machado’s in the dream house.

listening

yws gwynedd and the resulting welsh pop / rock mix on 24-hour lockdown repeat. it’s been extremely good to me, high energy, low engagement, except I’m also getting better at listening comprehension slowly but surely, there’s no downside. Stuck in my head currently, perpetually:

watching

the first episode of d20’s starstruck odyssey, which despite all the potential for getting bogged down in new mechanics and bad stats and dysfunctional team dynamics was really lovely? It is filling the sweet spot right between being in the mood for fantasy high and being in the mood for Neverafter, and plus I like! just getting to hear them play! I also watched the first few minutes of disn*y’s strange world on this airbnb’s d+ account, and will hopefully be able to go back—I was looking for something I could have on in the background and ended up getting interested, so, task failed successfully! I also watched, and slept through, amsterdam (2022) on a plane recently.

playing

fallow week. shoutout to the game I tried with friends a few weeks ago and forgot to mention, genesis noir, which was so gloriously atmospheric and moody and interesting, right up until it was slightly too buggy and/or unintuitive to get past the first fifteen minutes or so. though that could have been the fault of the internet connection, which had been slow that whole night and did crash immediately thereafter. we laughed ourselves to absolute fucking tears over gangbeasts again, afterwards. but I’m still thinking about the celestial noir vibes and hope to get back to this one soon.

making

fallow week! making plans and achieving them, making memories and taking pictures, making virtual friendships into realities. making more homecooked meals, hopefully, now that I have real kitchen access! making some professional connections??

working on

the last week has been all about either working on said paper, or getting a mental refresh by getting as far from it as possible. it’s been hard to get back into work mode after some of these full days off, but also, I did budget my time and I *did* put enough in, early and often, that by the time the eleventh hour came around it was possible to actually finish. i don’t think i could have gotten to this version, which i’m pleased with, with any less effort—but spending all day thurs at the library, working in the morning or an hour before bed, or between lunch and dinner tonight—and a lot of time the week prior—it all added up. it all contributed something. this is my memo to myself: the long boring slog leading up to the exhilarating last minute is just as necessary. it helped that I have other (dissertation-based) uses for every idea and sentence and quote I had to cut tonight, and I still think this paper is stronger without them.