#teehee inner peace

[party-panda-uwu]

Guys I figured it out. life isn't deep we are all just clay ✌

[mortifying-macaroni]

Just came back from the pool! Not only was it refreshing, but I was slaying so hard it wasn't even fair to others. After I unwind some more it'll be time to get serious- meaning I'll juggle between writing and drawing. Though for the moment, Tomb Raider Remastered is calling me again and I must answer.

[ayochae]

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

Synopsis: needy service top winter? well, yes!

Pairing: top! minjeong x bottom! fem reader

Genre: lovey dovey needy morning sex lmfao

Themes: fingering, cunnilingus, shower sex.

T/W: none <3

WC: 1.8k

a/n: omgggg im sorry ive been so dead these last couple weeks :((( writers block has been kicking my ass, like it took me AGESSS to write this... embarrasing i know pffttsfsffgdgf... anyway guys feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and drabble ideas!! i need inspo to get me back into writing :0 i hope you enjoy needy winter as much as i do teehee!! <3

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

You were suddenly awoken from a peaceful dream, the sound of your alarm cutting it short. Being a shift leader at work meant getting up early, which you always hated. Time and time again, you regretted your decision to keep this job. Early mornings were one of the many things you disliked about the job. And you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with your gorgeous girlfriend, who began to stir from the abrupt sound. 

“Sorry baby,” you whispered, shutting the alarm off quickly. Minjeong worked the closing shift, which meant late nights and blissful sleep-ins. Despite the trouble of waking up early, having her sleepy self beside you made it all worthwhile. Getting to pepper soft kisses on her even softer cheeks and watching a small smile blossom on her lips gave you a reason to get up in the morning. 

Begrudgingly, you got a move on, moving the blanket to the side to shift yourself to the edge of the bed. Your efforts were put to a halt when a pair of arms wrapped loosely around your waist. 

“Good morning,” Minjeong drawled, clearly still half asleep. 

"Morning,” you hummed, turning back to face your girlfriend. She sat up with bleary eyes and a fuzzy smile, her hair messily framing her face. Minjeong closes the gap between you two, pecking gently at your bottom lip before kissing you fully. Her delicate affections cause butterflies, feeling the smile curl at the corner of your lips as she kisses you.

Needy hands dance across the skin of your thighs, making their way between your legs. Her fingertips gliding past the fabric, stroking at your wet heat. 

“Jeongie…” you moaned out

“I have to get ready for work,” you murmur, wishing that wasn’t true.

“I know baby,” she hummed against your lips.

“Let me take care of you," she spoke, moving to trail kisses down your neck. She plants a kiss on your collarbone before shimmying down the bed, making her way between your thighs. You watch as she undresses you with ease, your eyes fluttering closed as all arguments fade from your mind. 

Minjeong adored your body. She loved the warmth you radiated and the softness of your skin. She nibbled and sucked on your inner thigh, using her mouth to show her admiration. Your hands carded through her chestnut hair as she worked her magic.

She licks a slow stroke over your folds, earning a jolt from you in response. You feel her giggle against your heat as she deepens the length of her tongue, plunging inside you. Her tongue was warm and soft against your skin, the sensation sending shivers up your spine. She wraps her mouth around your clit, sucking gently, enough to earn a whine from you. 

Minjeong is tender with her touch, lapping softly at your entrance, relishing in the way you would twitch underneath her. You grip her hair tighter as she nudges your clit, grinding softly on her lips, begging for more friction. Lewd sounds begin to spill from your mouth, eyes closed in pure bliss. 

“My pretty girl” she mumbles as she continues her pace. Your spare hand gripping the sheets, with your head thrown to the side. Minjeong uses this chance to snake her hand up your shirt, cupping one of your breasts; squeezing as she massages the now-hardened nipple. Her face still buried between your legs, sucking your clit lovingly. 

She continues to play with the hardened bud, rolling it between her fingers as she sucks on your swollen clit. The amalgamation of sensations had you moaning out her name, feeling the knot form in the pit of your stomach. Minjeong loved the way you sounded, she would do anything in her power to get you to moan her name. And in all honesty, it didn’t take much for you to melt into a moaning mess, crying out her name shamelessly. 

Filthy sounds filled the room, your wet cunt was subject to your girlfriend's persistent licking and sucking. The sound of your arousal progressively turned you on as Minjeong put her mouth to work. Curiosity getting the better of you; you look down to take in the view. Minjeong rested comfortably between your thighs, her mouth and chin drenched with your arousal. The mere sight of her current state was nearly enough for you to come right then and there. 

Your eyes roll back as profanities mindlessly slip under your breath. Her tongue swirled around your clit, earning hums of approval as she went. As she continued her pace, you could feel yourself slowly coming undone. Minjeong knew this; she doubled down, sucking the swollen bud between her lips. You struggled to keep still; your hips bucking haphazardly from the contact. Minjeong attempted to keep you still by gripping your thigh. Her movements never faltered as she pinned you to the bed. 

“I’m gonna cum baby” you state as everything comes crashing down. Blinded by your orgasm, you cry out your girlfriend's name, cumming all over her pretty mouth. Minjeong keeps her head between your legs, lazily sucking at your clit as she cleans you up. She only stops when you jerk your hips from the sensitivity; giving her the signal that you’ve had enough. Minjeong peels herself off you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand; hooded eyes locking with yours as she returns to your side.

You sat there lifeless; temporarily knocked out from your orgasm. Minjeong was always the sweetest after she was finished with you; even more so when she was still half asleep. She cuddled in close to you, her head naturally finding the crook of your neck, settling in as she wrapped her arms around your waist. You wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment, but the pestering thought of getting ready for work continued to linger. You sighed pulling away from her grasp, showering on the forefront of your mind. 

You didn’t need to look at her to know she was disappointed in your chosen actions. And honestly, you couldn’t blame her; If I were her I’d be pissed off too. You turn to face her; all her features express her discontent. Pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows, you wish you could make it up to her. But currently, the pressures of being an employed adult weigh heavily on your ability to make a decision. It was for the best; you turned your back and made your way into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind you. 

Starting the shower, you stepped in and embraced the warm water. Droplets danced on your skin as you reached for the shampoo. A cold draft interrupts your routine as the shower curtain is dragged aside. Before you could fully turn around, a pair of needy hands found your waist, pulling you in closer. 

You turn around to face your lover; eyes locking with hers as she smiles sheepishly. Your eyes stray briefly, admiring the sight before you. Her soft abs and bare chest made you blush and shift your focus. Of course, Minjeong noticed and took the opportunity to press herself closer to you. Planting soft kisses on your neck and jaw, you hum in contentment, soaking up her gentle affections. 

Your hand cupped the side of her face, lifting it to meet her lips, kissing the droplets that began to form. Amidst the kiss, she weighed herself fully against you, pushing you against the shower wall. The cold tiles sent a jolt to your senses, muffling a gasp between your occupied lips. Minjeong chuckled into the kiss as she pinned you there, using the opportunity to slide her tongue inside your mouth. The kiss grew hotter, her warmth distracting you from the chilling sensation of the shower wall. Before you could become accustomed to Minjeong's sudden affectionate outburst, her knee found its way between your thighs. Dividing your legs in the process. 

Minjeong pulled away to suck at the sweet spot under your earlobe, a move you always found yourself melting into. You moaned against her touch, unintentionally inviting her to glide her fingers through your wet folds. The action causes you to buck your hips, feeling Minjeong smile against your neck in satisfaction. 

“Minjeong…” You trailed off, exasperation present in your tone. 

“Shh, I know baby” she mumbled in response, her mind clearly elsewhere.

You didn’t have the opportunity to argue, not when Minjeong inserted a finger skilfully inside. The action caught you off guard, a gasp leaving your lips as you readjusted to her length. The desperation and pure neediness were enough to have you aching for it. 

Minjeong skipped to pressing deep, summoning moans as her digit stretched your walls. She had you right where she wanted you, hitting the spot you both knew and loved. Your hands flew up to her shoulders, gripping her for stability as she thrust in and out. Minjeong’s pace was slow and deep, practically driving you up the wall. 

Minjeong enjoyed taking her time with you, fucking you agonisingly slow, enjoying the moans you’d let slip out for her in response. She loved the way you’d wrap around her with ease, your walls fluttering with each curl of her finger. Her breath was warm at your ear, whispering sweet nothings as she continued her pace, spurring you closer to the edge. 

As you finally managed to get used to her rhythm, Minjeong added another finger. She moaned softly into your neck, stirring up an insatiable need for her you didn’t know you had buried. Beautiful desire coursed through your veins as she kissed your jaw. 

You loved the sounds Minjeong made when she fucked you. Soft whimpers into the shell of your ear, paired with relentless thrusting made you weak at the knees. If it wasn’t for Minjeong holding you firmly in place you wouldn’t be standing. There wasn’t much you could do other than grip her shoulders tightly, your nails leaving shallow crescents on her soft skin. Which only seemed to encourage Minjeong to continue her pace, letting out breathy moans as she went. 

Minjeong was a dedicated lover through and through. Pleasing you pleased her, and she would often cum just from touching you. The thought of getting her off and hearing her sweet moans was enough to send you over the edge. You slumped into her embrace, feeling the first wave of your orgasm come in hard and fast. Minjeong continued to tease the last of your climax from you, thrusting slowly as you practically rode her fingers. You exhaled deeply when Minjeong finally withdrew her fingers, making sure you watched as she sucked them clean. 

Heat quickly rose to your cheeks, embarrassment settling in after processing the moment between you both. She kissed your lips as she untangled herself from you. 

”Thanks for the shower” she giggled, sending a wink your way before turning her back. 

Maybe being a morning person wasn’t so hard after all. 

[bakugo-softski]

Bnha as my personal interpretations of their zodiac sign from people i know irl

Hitoshi Shinso, Cancer: “I care more about my special interest than any of you fucks. Sorry.” Mostly normal, except implying he has a special interest. Would like to know Shinso’s special interest

Izuku Midoriya, Cancer: 👆AYO???

Katsuki Bakugo, Taurus: “I’m suave af and know it. I make ppl wanna slap the shit out of me. It’s part of my charm. My voice does things to ppl. I had a girlfriend for 8 months without confiding in my closest friends abt it. Secret romantic but ppl can tell” I’m gonna commit a fucking larceny

Mei Hatsume, Aries: “experimentation is fun af. Also, I’m gonna go disappear for 9 days and forget you exist. See you MAYBE next next Tuesday.” Real tbh

Shoto Todoroki, Capricorn: “Inner peace? Joy? What’s that? I have more unhealthy coping skills than you could imagine.”

Miruko, Pisces: “i would murder you for one bite of that kitkat. Wym bullying isn’t affection? I said i ain’t doing it. YOU LOVE MEEEEEE AH AH” LMAO slaps

Tomura Shigaraki, Aries: “WE’RE HAVING FUN GODDAMNIT. LEMME BLAST UR ASS WITH THIS ROMAN CANDLE. wyM we can’t tussle in this shopping center. “For the bit” physical altercation is not an adequate substitute for the love your parents never gave you. Yes, even if it works

Toga Himiko, Leo: “I’m a backstabbing bitch. Teehee”

Shota Aizawa, Scorpio: A cutthroat bitch. Has been through some shit. Always tired. “if you saw me in public, no you didn’t.” Ahh bitch

In conclusion:

[twsthc]

savanaclaw headcanons and projection 🦁

...this is what the poll from like last week was for. sorry heartslabyul and diasomnia fans teehee </3

⚠️ warnings: self harm, eating disorders

last updated: may 4, 2024

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR !! 🦁🥩

🇲🇱🇹🇿🇰🇪 UNLABLED + INTERSEX TRANSFEMNEU (she/him)

APPEARANCE HCS:

Leona is actually the twst character I've drawn the most

I hc all beastmen to have fur everywhere thats elastic and akin to mink skin

You know the texture of squishmallows? It's like that.

╰Doesn't include the thick hair in other places (head, facial, armpits, chest, pubes, etc)

Lots of scars in general + healed dermis self harm scars on thighs

Has a flat nose like a cat

RANDOM HCS:

Savanaclaw mom/big sister...

Overstimulating thunderstorm? Go whine to Leona. Diasomnia students bothering you? Get leona to deal with them. Your food is too hot? Cry to Leona.

During freshman year she was way more outgoing and extroverted but eventually She mellowed out (depression moment)

She used to change hairstyles a lot before settling on freeform dreads

Also got into way more fights back then (also how she became housewarden)

Now she is (kind of) calm. Tranquil. At peace. Has depressive episodes. Relaxed.

Mostly does her own thing, and if that "thing" isn't sleeping it's some other bullshit the underclassmen roped her into

SHE CAN SEW AND MAKE JEWLERY

╰While wandering the castle one day, Leona stumbled upon the servants quarters. They taught him life skills (mending clothes, cooking, etc :3)

Despite being a big sis figure if she doesn't want to do something she Will Not.

And if she does do it afterall it's because she gets something out of it.

NPD, GAD, PDD (persistent depressive disorder)

RUGGIE BUCCHI !! 🍩🌼

🇺🇸🇧🇷 UNLABLED + TRANS MAN (he/him)

APPEARANCE HCS:

Similarly to Leona he has a furry textured skin

Though his body hair is more coarse and longer due to him being a hyena

He has a lazy eye and tipped ear similar to Ed from The Lion King

Probably my second most drawn twst character :3

Healed epidermis self harm scars on inner wrists 🥶

RANDOM HCS:

He's like the cooler afrolatino Luke Blovad

He's either winning the idgaf wars or dying on the battlefield

Has an insane collection of weird shirts from thrift stores

And he makes it work every single time! his outfits go crazy!

More connected to his AADOS/Gullah side than his Brazilian side

Though he does speak Portugese!

In fact, he speaks multiple languages because polyglots are marketable

The type of person to take a half empty bottle of ketchup and rotting apple from an empty ass fridge and make dinner happen

Constantly going to Scarabia to snag their party leftovers

Used to be a scene kid!!!! This is canon and true!!!! Pls trust me

diabetes, GAD, MDD, undiagnosed ADHD

triggering content ahead !!

he has bulimia nervosa

╰fun fact! a lot of food insecure people have eating disorders

self harmed a lot from the ages from 10-12 before eventually stopping at 13

he stopped after his grandma found out and started checking his arms regularly (#projecting)

JACK HOWL !! 🐺🌵

🪶🇪🇬 PANROMANTIC ASEXUAL + GENDER CURIOUS (he/they)

APPEARANCE HCS:

WAY thicker fur than leona and ruggie

Trims his body hair a lot because he overheats in savanaclaw easily

RANDOM HCS:

The type of guy to be totally in love with the world and nature

They're just like. Wow. We were put on a spinning rock. With food to eat, and water drink, and air to breathe. I love being alive.

Had a little garden back at home and named every single plant

Remembers small things about people and brings them up in conversation

╰Hey dude I got you a Chipotle bowl. How did I remember your exact order? You told me. Yeah, I know it was a year ago, but--

Random but I think he dresses how Tupac did

Not even to be tough

But because he's a black suburban kid

(I'm a black city kid but this is probably how black suburban kids dress trust)

Loooves chewing on things. Has one of those chew necklaces

Autistic with botany and physical health special interest

[eofoc]

day 11: symbolism

doing this instead of studying. a long ass post because i love symbolism so mych

YUZE

columbine flower - "decisive victory" (yearning for revenge no matter what), foolishness and innocence (a nod towards his childs self personality)

snowdrop flower - new beginnings, hope and rebirth (all tying to him being able to forgive himself and live again)

moonstone - often linked to the tides, and used for sleeping problems (tied to the sea, which is very important to him - and also a silly reference to his sleeping habits!)

the hermit - treason (his parents) and prudence, but also unreasoned caution (holding everyone at hands length)

other than that, his general symbols/themes include the stars and the sea!

(rest of characters under the cut!!)

ANGE

tansy - "i declare against you," (him being antagonistic towards the society that rejects him; going against the wishes of his family) resistance, revenge (a nod to yuze and their bond!)

daffodil - new beginnings, forgiveness (mostly for himself, but also towards juliet) and rebirth; can also mean "beautiful eyes" (he hates his eyes, since theyre identical to his fathers, something his mother pointed out very often - just a silly ironic reference)

serpentine - associated with snakes and the lushness of nature

the magician - manipulation, illusion (manipulating others into believing his persona), being out of touch

other than that, his general themes include butterflies (rebirth and fragility), eyes, insects and nature in general

JULIET

ivy - fidelity and eternal life (ironically, its the way she knows her life wont be eternal, and how little she values it)

indian mallow - conjecture, love and protection (overprotective nature)

emerald - loyalty, peace and security (her sense of duty towards her family and their reputation, but also the wish for ange to live peacefully and to be safe)

the hanged man - sacrifice, rash decisions and letting go

other than that, her themes include candles (the impermanence of life) and birdcages (core negative beliefs, prison of own thoughts) <3

MISCHA

red camellia - deep desire (just in general - but with him mostly to fit in and be "normal"), humility

red spinel - great passion, devotion and courage (ironic since he thinks of himself as a coward)

birdfoot - revenge (backstory related!), claws (nod to him being a vampire), but also sincerity (also kind of ironic, since he struggles a lot with it)

the star - hopelessness and despair, theft, arrogance

he is also associated with the red moon (death, something bad is coming) and bees (hard work)

ROSELYN

rose - unrequited love, jealousy, respect (all feelings she has towards juliet!!)

"pacific rose" - prestige, abundance and nourishment (representation of her family life on the surface)

rhodolite - overcoming feelings of shame, guilt and inadequacy

temperance - imbalance, discord, and impatience (also relates to her relationship with juliet - but also general imbalances in her life)

her other themes include cards (uncertainty, game) and pearls (journey to perfection)

ORIFIEL

white lily - death, symbol of mortality (his fear of death and refusing to believe hes mortal as a coping mechanism of knowing death will meet him soon)

chrysoberyl - keenness of perception, great clarity (a nod to how perceptive and observant he is)

judgement - inner calling, absolution (the finality of everything), karma and causality (teehee heehee heehee)

his themes are kind of vague, but include the sun, gold chains, stained glass, and anything religious or death related!

[yuukei-yikes]

loving the most recent harutaka doodle were takane is being LOUD and possible STRESSED and just haruka touching her causes causes inner peace and *subwoofer lullaby inside her head*

TEEHEEEEE!!!!

originally i was gonna draw her blushing and getting all silly with this sorta funny smile i like drawing->🥴 something like. a teehee moment cuz imagine that and then her leaning against him while giggling super silly *explodes* isn't that so cute. but i changed it bc i felt it would've needed some dialogue, since post str takane doesnt get pissed at Whatever, if she's mad its probably worth getting mad at, so it would've had to be specific... what would get her mad but also not mad enough to quickly teehee over haruka instead... i couldnt think of anything to write. so i changed it to takane deciding whatever she's yelling about isn't worth it anyways and haruka is comfy :3 i think haruka is rly good at calming her down just by existing she's like Oh right. *cat head bump*

the hc was early dating harutaka being giddy and silly abt each other which is why i was gonna draw it that way initially. but then i didnt lol. or like early reunion actually, not even dating. like haruka can just sit next to takane and their shoulders touch and takanes like omg🥰 hehe. i think they'd be cute like that. i think they'd get all excited and giggling and sooooo stupid about each other. sorry if this is cringe to the viewers but thats cute come on.

the worst pda haruka and takane exhibit is this early dating/about to be dating stage where they're just talking with their faces really close together whispering and giggling. Cringe as hell my man 🙏 wait im about to get completely off topic well not really but let's talk about pda for a bit im in a love mood im in a shipping mood <- the moment it knew the ask reply was turning into its own unrelated post

sorry to talk about setomary like no one even mentioned it but on the subject of pda. i think only kano and kido (and maybe ayano) are setomary pda haters (not setomary haters. just when theyre pda) and the rest are like :3❤️ theyre so cute. but for harutaka since theyre so fucking cringe EVERYONE is kind of annoyed. they just fucking pretend nothings happening because its cringe. maybe during the first week after they reunited they're like aww its so nice haruka and ene reunited :3 but it gets difficult to look at fast.

seto and mary are being more normal they do shit like seto carries mary and theyre hugging all the time etc etc nothing too tragic. maybe seto calls her princess maybe mary gives him some flowers thats just what theyre like not only to each other but theyre that way to Everyone they just happen to match each other's level of swetness perfectly so no one thinks twice abt it. setomary is more natural and cute abt it. but haruka and takane act like they're in highschool at the back of the classroom whispering and giggling and its augh. it's insufferable to witness. i imagine the dan just widening their eyes to each other and mouthing Oh My God to each other all the time when harutaka start acting this way. like haruka and takane do everything except kiss each other in public seeing them kiss would actually be better bc what the hell is this. kido probably forces them to exhange seats like theyre in highschool for real.

sorry lets do a quick pda rating since i already talked about setomary and harutaka so why not talk about kidomomo and shinaya now that im on it. i told you i was getting off topic and also ratio + im an epic aroace person who enjoys romance as fiction so i love Love and making these hcs about smooching!!!! like ive seen ppl do what i described harutaka like. These people are going to hell. however harutaka are safe because theyre fictional. hope that helps.

for kidomomo its baby steps Momo throws herself on kido at all times and kido Vanishes each and every time or has to leave the room out of embarrassment. i think if kidomomo have any relationship issues its THIS. momo is so touchy and pda energy and kidos like 😐😐😐😐😐😐 momos like Ok 1 thousand kisses in private for me to stop kissing u in public and kido says Ok not taking the 1 thousand bit seriously but momo is serious and she WILL count them later. like she gets so good at numbers all of a sudden. kidomomo inside joke that kido is in serious kiss debt *falls to my knees abt my own hc i just pulled out of my ass* sorry thats so corny. but its so cute *bangs fist against floor*

shinaya are anti pda because theyre both nervous messes if their hands brush together shintaro starts having trouble breathing and ayano competes with him at seeing who can embarrass themselves more. shintaro is pretty pathetic but we all know that so... ayano... a girl can nervously brush her hair out of her face only so many times. pull yourself together. anyways in my delusion as you may know they get together and break up. but get together again as normaler people and theyre normaler abt pda then. i think shintaro can have his arm around ayano without either of them being a freak about it. Also ayano probably sends kisses across the room with her hands and will act sad until shintaro catches at least one invisible kiss. shintaro refuses to kiss it back but compromises with putting the invisible kiss in his pocket instead. 🙏

sorry damn i was feeling Love today....... also didnt talk abt kanoshin which is another ship i rly like because they'd explode and die before standing next to each other in public in fear of giving away that they like kissing each other on the mouth. they dont qualify for pda hcs. sorry I turned the reply of this ask into whatever this is

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — tradition!dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader wc — 3k synopsis — she's pretty when she pouts. even prettier when she cries.

note — while you don't necessarily have to, i highly recommend reading tradition before this, as they exist in the same universe. this semi-part two is from our feb slumber party!

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — strangely, a lot of angsty angst; sidney being... sidney (gracie's version); references to a past sexual encounter; not super descriptive smut (pretty tame for me ngl); panty sniffing teehee; voyeurism + f masturbation; kinda sorta exhibitionism/risky location; degradation/name-calling balanced out by some praise; orgasm control + denial, edging then overstim; dacryphila; cameo from two of my fav gentlemen ;)

A newly born fawn can stand within ten to twenty minutes of entering the world and is able to manage walking after several hours—albeit, rather ungracefully. With time, fawns do become more sure-footed and less likely to stumble or fall, usually experiencing pervasive wobbliness and frequent fatigue, which wanes over weeks. In the meantime, however, their weak limbs won't carry them very far. 

A few feet of grass and pavement would be doable. Uncoordinated and slow, though not impossible. 

But you are not a baby deer, regardless of how similar your strides may appear. A resemblance so uncanny that it's the first remark made by each and every party guest you pass on your trek up the driveway. 

Overdid yourself at the gym, you fib with the limp, "Don't worry about it," swipe of your hand through the warm evening air. Either too oblivious or intoxicated, not one bats an eye despite the mountain of evidence piled on your face—and dripping down your inner thighs.

The shameless, self-satisfied sound of Sidney Crosby's amusement slipping through his fingers—ones which still carry a suspiciously tart scent—isn't helping but is just as easily overlooked. 

As you stumble through the party, still bustling as ever, you begin to think he lied when he turned down your parents'—and his—street. When he said the punishment was over, that you'd earned his forgiveness. Just another empty promise strung together with hollow words from his silver tongue. 

He was enjoying your misery too much for it to be accidental. Sidney wasn't overly affectionate or even that warm of an individual. Charming and magnetic, but never sweet or sentimental. It was something you were still grappling with, still trying to make peace with. He wasn't a monster, just cooly indifferent.

Which is why a (stupid) part of you expected some small benevolence after you opened your legs for him—again. 

Like, for instance, returning your panties instead of pocketing them. Or, not making you mingle with half the town with your own shame sliding down past the hem of your skirt—what a concept! 

It could be worse. He did say he planned to hang them from the rearview mirror or stash them in his center console. The chances of someone accidentally stumbling upon the sullied snow-white cotton were significantly lower, with them balled in the back pocket of his well-loved denim, than either alternative. 

Sidney Crosby ruined your night and your mood, but worst of all, several orgasms. All because he didn't "appreciate" the silent treatment. 

Hypocrite. 

"Don't ignore me," said the man who flaked on your father's poker night. 

"Don't ignore me," said the man who hadn't bothered to call, despite going out of his way to ask your mother for your phone number—lead on a job, my ass. 

"Don't ignore me," said the man who brought a date to your parents' anniversary party, then scowled like someone shit in his Cheerios when an acquaintance of yours from high school wanted to walk down memory lane. 

"Don't ignore me," said the man who crashed your attempt to escape his punitive glare of disapproval. 

He was easy enough to ignore even if it was his car you were riding shotgun in. Plenty of buttons to busy yourself with and an endless array of distractions beyond the large tinted window. Sidney Crosby was little more than a gnat buzzing around your head. Unpleasant and obnoxious, but bearable. 

Until the kind, naïve cashier complimented the "adorable couple," and, naturally, asked how long they'd been together. An innocuous question to which the older man scoffed, and promptly corrected her outlandish assumption, leaving her apologetically rosy-cheeked. 

After setting the replenishment of bottles and cans in the backseat, you shut the Range Rover's door a bit too harshly. You weren't surprised to feel his displeasure boring into your temple as the engine hummed to life. 

In no mood for a lecture, you cut off whatever prim, self-righteous bullshit he had to say at the knees, "You're pissed I slammed the door, I'm pissed you were a dick to the teenager who doesn't get paid enough to deal with your awful lack of tact. We're even, alright?" 

"She speaks," was his astute, amused comeback. 

He put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot with his hand braced against your headrest. 

You couldn't stomach his inconsistent ambivalence a second longer. 

Hands thrown up in defeat, frustration burst from your mouth. "Why are you acting like I don't exist? As if...as if—" 

He waited for you to complete your thought, but it's one you'd never finish. You hardly allowed yourself to think it most nights. It shouldn't matter if you matter to him.

But the universe has a sick sense of humor. 

"You're... confusing. I don't—I don't get you." 

Sidney simply sighed, his eyes trained on the vacant road ahead. "You'll understand when you're older." 

"Jesus, what's next?" You couldn't help but snort at the cliché throwaway line. "What I was your age...?' or 'Back in my day...?' I am on the edge of my seat, Mr. Crosby." 

"Quit it. I'm in no mood to deal with your dramatics tonight, kid. I'm already at my limit with you." 

The feeling was very much mutual. 

"Make me." 

A horrible, mocking sound erupted from the driver's side that made you want to curl into yourself and never unravel. The only thing worse than being ghosted, it seemed, was the outright rebuff of your advances. 

For a long while, the only sound was the gentle, steady hum of the AC; Sidney wasn't a "radio person."

Eye-roll. You started to think you weren't a "Sidney person." 

After your fourth or fifth—you'd lost count by now—Sidney looked at you in his periphery. His coal-black stare made you giddy in a way that made you feel equally as silly.

You hated wanting him more than you could ever hate him. 

With an exaggerated sigh of his own, Sidney stuck out his hand. Palm up, directly over the center console. 

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" you spat, brows pinched in confusion. 

You felt his growl in your ribs, but that twinge was nothing when compared to what his subsequent command did to your mind and body. 

"Take off whatever excuse for undergarments you put on with in me in mind, and put them in my hand." 

Time froze, and so did you. 

"I won't ask again." 

You don't make him. 

You bunched your skirt up to the creases of your thighs without another peep, and your heart pounded so roughly in your ears that it made your vision blur and blacken around the edges. Nervous fingers trembled as they hooked into the delicate garment and pulled them down your thighs. As you lifted your rear, cold air flooded the intimate place, and you nearly lost your nerve. With the soft cotton stretched impatiently at your knees, your head whipped from side to side to scrutinize your surroundings. Then, with the coast as clear as it would ever be, you surrendered them.  

He chuckled at your paranoia, finding it oddly endearing, and continued to do so even after his prize was secured, bundled safely in his clutches.  

Mr. Crosby brought them to his face. He inhaled deeply, much to your chagrin, and he kept them squarely under his nose for three intersections in spite of your palpable embarrassment. There was more to blame your squirming on than just the chill of the air conditioning. 

"Can you... like, not?" you mumbled as you shrunk into the passenger seat, mortified. 

"What's the matter? Feeling shy?" He laughed into the creamy center of the fabric. 

You swear his tongue slipped out, but it was too dark to know for certain. Your body didn't need confirmation to tremble. Out of discomfort... or fear... 

Arousal? 

"—you weren't five seconds ago when you stripped in my front seat for anyone to see. Or when you let me fuck you with your father on the other side of the door. Me, his best friend. But that's where you draw the line?" 

You, quiet as a mouse, shifted uncomfortably on the cool leather until your gaze couldn't leave the neighborhoods blurring together beyond the dark glass. 

Sidney Crosby wasn't the most delicate with emotions, but this was cruel even for him. You know he can see right through you, and to leverage your... whatever you feel just to belittle you for his own amusement wasn't something you thought to worry about. It wasn't a possibility you considered, but maybe you should've. 

You don't turn at the sound of your name, but you do hum in acknowledgment. 

"I'm not poking fun at you, kid, I promise." 

The sincerity in his low timbre tugged on your heartstrings, and soon, your eyes were back on the opposite side of the SUV. 

He wasn't looking at you, but his attention never split or wavered. "I asked you to do that because I'd been thinking about you—and the way your sweet pussy smelled—since Christmas. Five fucking months... tormented by the memory. I apologize if I took it too far." 

Some emotion, one you could not bear to label, bubbled up your throat as you chewed on his words. Fearful you might be eclipsed by a shadow of doubt, you shoved it right the hell down in favor of your preferred fall-back. 

"Make it up to me?" 

You knew you were offering yourself up on a silver platter. And you did feel unsure about it—the action, the potential consequences, and the plethora of ways you would, more than likely, be hurt. However, when regret crept in, belated and benign, it hadn't mattered. 

"Tempting. Later—if you behave. Right now, I want to watch." 

Your stupid, malleable heart flipped over a cracked door.

Throat clenched, you gulped. "What about... Shouldn't you focus, I don't know, on not killing us?" 

"Shouldn't you focus on the ache between those pretty thighs?" 

One light change. From green to yellow and finally, red—that was all the time you required to heed Sidney's sardonic counsel and cave to your body's needs. That was how quickly you wound up with one knee hiked up and bent, resting against the soft material of the center console. Your eagerness displayed proudly, glittering as it caught in the streetlights that lead back toward reality. 

Sidney Crosby had you halfway to spread-eagle in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle with your hands up the skirt he wanted to burn—and he refused to let you cum. 

Every time you got close, he made you stop. A few times, he even barred you from touching yourself anywhere at all. He would coach you to the brink, pushing you closer and closer each time, but Sidney always stopped you short of the finish line. He repeated this pain-pleasure torture until you were sobbing at his side, a smirk splayed wide across the lower half of his otherwise stoic face. 

"What's wrong?" He asked as if he cared. 

"It's not—I need... I-I need more—need you." 

You hardly recognized your own voice. Too pitchy and distant, you wouldn't have, if not for the way the words scratched your delicate throat as they came up. You choked on your own salty tears. 

He liked making you cry a little more than could be considered healthy. But what he liked even more was how, even with the ability to take pleasure at your own hand, you wouldn't. You couldn't. You needed him—his approval, his permission, his touch. You were useless without him. 

"Tough shit, slut," Sidney replied. 

Free of malice, you would've considered the name affectionate—an endearment, almost—if it came from anyone else. 

"You get what you deserve, and you haven't earned my fingers, let alone my cock. I'm damn sure of it." 

You made a wet, woeful sound that almost made him pity you. Almost. If he hadn't been driving, he might have given in just to squeeze out more pathetic whimpers. 

He was glad to have resisted the urge in the deserted parking lot to bend you over the hood of his car, and he was proud of himself for not jerking the car onto the shoulder to take you in the backseat. Sidney's resolve had dwindled significantly as the drive dragged on, chipped away by your sad eyes and even sadder sounds and the guilt he couldn't stifle. 

Sidney couldn't give you what you wanted, but he could provide a substitute. A poor one, by both your standards, but you'd make do. 

"Alright, alright. Quit your whining. If you want to cum tonight, you'll do the work yourself. Go on, big girl, you wanted to be grown so badly. Take care of the problem like a grown-up." 

You listened, and you stumbled over the edge almost instantly. 

Your fingers were desperate to make the best of a bad situation. A mixed bag, in reality, one you won't bother to sort through until it's unavoidable. And, before long, you were writhing into your own touch, imagining it was his instead like you have every night since he had you in the bathroom at your parents' holiday party. 

Until headlights flashed, bright and commanding like the alarms that failed to sound in your head whenever Sidney Crosby was involved. Three fingers remained knuckle-deep when your body, still reeling from your latest peak, seized up in fear.  

"Did I tell you to stop?" came his strict, no-nonsense censure. 

Your head wagged; he knew your answer without needing to look. 

He offers you the hand that took your panties from you. This time, though, you didn't need further instruction. As you suckled, his thumb massaged your warm tongue. 

"Stop thinking. You don't have to worry about anything ’sides fucking your fingers the way you'd fuck mine, and sucking my thumb the way I know you'd suck my cock." 

When he pulled to a stop at the red light, he took full advantage of the momentary reprieve. Sidney leaned so close, the heat of his lips pressed to your skin without ever truly touching you. It was pure maddens, but his words were worse: "—maybe I'll let you. If you're a good little girl and prove, you're worthy of the honor." 

Tears streamed down your hot cheeks. The salty, silvery rivers glistened in the passing lights of house lights and other cars. Sidney's fingers twitched against the wheel as they resisted the urge to scoop them up and suck them down. 

What a waste. 

His thumb slipped from your mouth as your grip on his wrist and forearm slackened. Sidney braced himself for whatever trivial complaint you meant to voice this time. 

"But... but I—fuck... N-No more... can't—can't do it, can't do another one. P-Please—don't m-make me..." 

If he hadn't been so irritated, he would have found your garbled, sputtering mess of a plea humorous. Instead, he felt it was an inconvenience. Sidney did not understand why you were behaving like an insolent brat when you getting the attention you tugged his sleeve for. 

"First, you beg for it, and now you're whining to stop. Which is it? Make up your mind and use your big girl words." 

You did. 

And you're still wearing the product of your repeated efforts nearly an hour later, your head as fuzzy as ever. Several times, your spaciness has been commented on or lightly joked about, but you lack the energy to give a shit. You're too out of it to even muster up annoyance. 

Deciding to call it a night, you quietly slip away from your parents. They're too wrapped up in playing gracious hosts to notice, accepting overpriced, useless gifts and congratulations like it's their full-time jobs. 

On the way to your bedroom, you're intercepted. 

"There she is, Miss Master's Degree! How've you been, honey? Keeping out of trouble?" 

You allow yourself to be scooped up by the younger of the two brothers huddled in a corner of the family room, and a genuine smile isn't difficult to find. 

"Knock it off, Tommy," Mr. Miller chides after your feet have been returned to the ground. "You of all people should know how, and I quote, fucking lame the Adult World is. I'd be more concerned about her dying of boredom than getting into any trouble." 

"Oh, don't worry. I've found ways to amuse myself," you reply with an easy laugh. 

Neither catches the innuendo, but it reaches the intended audience. 

Hearing the familiar grumble of ire, you politely excuse yourself. "I am so sorry, but I need to lie down. My head is killing me." 

Mr. Miller's warm brown eyes glisten with paternal sympathy. He rubs between your shoulder blades. "Of course, sweetheart. You've had a crazy last couple of months. Stop by when you're feeling better, okay? Sarah and Ellie miss their favorite babysitter." 

You smile and nod an affirmative before stepping away. 

Your spot between the brothers is swiftly filled by two of their endless admirers, eager to chat up the introverted widower with two pre-teen daughters and his flirtatious veteran of a younger brother. You don't blame them. They were as easy on the eyes as they were to talk to, and, in a world of boys, two southern gentlemen were a rare commodity. A hot one, too. 

The younger Miller wouldn't have caused any brows to rise if you brought him to Thanksgiving. 

With your hand coasting over the banister, you find yourself wishing it were Tommy—or even Mr. Miller, you couldn't get off your mind instead of... 

Shaking your head, you trot up the stairs, slipping into the darkness without a second glance. You weren't kidding about the migraine. 

He waits fifteen minutes before disappearing into the same shadows. 

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[prodigiousvisions]

♫ for koto & keqing please uwu

send me your favorite song and I’ll write a starter inspired by it ! Alternatively, send ♫ for me to choose a song. | accepting with enthusiasm teehee

Run-of-the-mill patrol orders were nothing out of the ordinary on Keqing's to-do list. Oftentimes, it was out of preventative initiation to harbor the safekeeping of each civilian's peace while maintaining this red string of mutual assistance. One-person jobs seemed to be frowned upon as of late, thus, the sword held in her hand was not the only thing at her side while walking the blackened trails coated with the murkiness of the night. Still, she supposed it was better to patrol with a partner than without, even if the idle chatter spoken in broken, quiet refrains was limited. Wasn't this trail too quiet? The path too clean? It all serves as the stage for vigilance and hesitation to envelop her very being, scanning the surroundings tenfold as the grip on her weapon grows stronger. Something wasn't right. The night sky may have called for peace as the average person went to retire to bed, but that did not mean that nature would abide by such kempt regulations. Just as if her inner voice was being acknowledged, a rumble trembles through the ground beneath them. An earthquake...? No... An explosion?!?

"It's a trap!" Keqing yells, already moving to shove her partner to the side and allow her a second's notice of reprieve to move and move quickly. "Koto, get out of this area or be incinerated to pieces!"

IMPERIAL CHAIN 🎶🎶// Keqing - Koto !!!! // @dayrisen

[call-sign-shark]

Isa! I am so so freaking happy you have started to read this series. Let alone the fact that first chapter got you hooked. 🥺

It's true that everything blew up in poor Arthur's face all at once, which renders his epiphany even more painful for him. What he thought could bring peace to him (Linda and Tommy's support) led him to spiral again with his old demons. I am delighted I managed to make you feel his inner turmoil. He's really a poor baby boy.

Nevertheless, I literally SQUEALED in the midst of gym when I read you already like Heaven. Thank you so so so much, honey. 😭 The words you used to describe her, dangerous and alluring, are just so on point I'm shocked. You'll come to realize how right you are throughout the story -- I really hope further dives into her character will keep you hyped. 🤯

Also, I am also personally fond of this sentence you quoted because places tell a lot about people. This is also quite important considering the diametrically opposed relationship she has with the church contrary to Linda. For her, this is just a safe haven. And you'll know more about her whole past as you'll roam through the story teehee.

Thank you so much Isa for this thorough and lovely analysis. Your words mean the world to me and I still can't believe you took the time to start Heaven in your Eyes. Welcome to the ride dear 💚

And you're welcome for the playlist -- I am so shocked someone listened to it ;w; I'm thrilled I introduced you to new songs <33 I am a music aficionado who constantly needs to make new musical discoveries so I'm super proud 🥺

Heaven In Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

[mmtwoo]

A Strawhat Sleepover Zoro x Sanji x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

word count: 7k

small summary: Luffy, Usopp, and chopper had a great idea. They decided to throw a crew sleepover, but when alcohol and party games get introduced, the peaceful night gets a lot more interesting.

CW: Threesome, face fucking, oral (M&F), Drunk sex, slight neck grabbing

A/N: just wanted to point out that this is my first time writing a fanfic(Audible gasp) so it might or might not suck ass 💀 imma apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes/ incorrect sentences or smthing 😭 But hope yall enjoy it!

Also gonna colour code the names teehee

(some ppl share a colour cuz theres only so many 😒)

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Chopper, Robin

since they say shii in this they get colours (sorry franky and brook)

You and the strawhats just finished the dinner your cook Sanji had prepared. Your captain had looked like he was about to pop, his belly gotten so round from all the food he just consumed. You'd tried to contain the smile that was about to form from how Luffy looked like an overstuffed Turkey, but having your fellow cremates Usopp and Chopper laughing hysterically in your ear wasn't helping. You eventually broke out laughing after Luffy had tried to get up but falling in the process making a cartoon "boing" sound effect.

It was getting late and the crew had slowly started to do their nightly routine. You had just put on your pajamas when all of a sudden you hear Luffy yell " EVERYONE COME TO THE DECKKKKK!!!! " you obviously hear your loud captain and rush to the deck.

Everyone had arrived eager to know what they were called for. An emergency? a marine Ship spotted? another Pirate Ship that had threaten to attack the Sunny and steal all our-

....

"Guys! Usopp, chopper, and I had a great idea!! We should all have a sleepover on the deck since chopper has never been to a sleepove-" Before he could finshes Nami and Sanji started beating poor Luffy and Usopp up, forgetting Chopper had also been a part of this.

"YOU GUYS ARE SO STUPID!! I THOUGHT SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED"

Nami scolded the both of them hard, You stood there rubbing your head in relief/annoyance. On one hand yay! nothing is wrong. On the other hand. Dumbasses.

Through luffys beaten up faces, he mustered up a muffled apologized

"WHY DID I GET PUNCHED? CHOPPER WAS THE ONE THAT BROUGHT IT UP!"

"DON'T BRING ME INTO THIS"

"YOU WERE ALREADY IN THIS"

"ALL OF YOU BE QUIET"

...

All of this was too much, especially for it being night time, but a sleepover doesn't sound too bad, The wind had been stale for the whole day and the ship had barely made it anywhere, so spending more time with your fellow crewmates couldn't be so bad right? You along with chopper had never been to a sleepover so this idea sparked the inner child in you. After all the fuss had worn off, the others had given their thoughts on the idea.

"I think the idea isn't too bad"

you were honestly a little surprised that Robin was willing to do it, actually thinking about it... it would be nice to hear her read a bedtime story for everyone, the way she reads storys never fails to soothe you.

"Me too! as long as we get to do sleepover stuff...like...uhh..."

The crew looked at you waiting to hear an example.

. . .

"To be honest I have no clue" You shrugged giving an embarrassed smile.

"ahh y/n, there's a ton of stuff to do during a sleepover! Like pillow fights, storytelling, playing tricks on people-"

Usopp was suddenly cut off at the burst of thought Nami had

"Yea! and we can also tell spoooky storys!"

Nami gave an evil stare at Usopp, knowing how much of a scaredy-cat he is.

"WHATCHA LOOKIN' AT ME FOR?!"

" Ya know what? I think a sleepover is a great idea as well!"

" I think this sounds stupid, I want my sleep"

"Zoro... You take naps every day, I think you'll be fine"

"tsk" Zoro gave an annoyed look

"Fine, if it'll stop all your whining"

of course, Sanji said yes, if thats what it takes to spend more time with the ladies he'll put up with the other's shenanigans.

Everyone had agreed, and now comes the sleepover prepping! Since there were no sleeping bags on board they loaded up in blankets and pillows! Luffy was telling Sanji the snacks, food, and drinks he wanted him to prepare. Usopp, Chopper, and Franky had all started to come up with stuff to do in case they start to get bored. Robin, Nami, and brook were collecting some stories to read, Nami and brook were getting the scariest ones, and you were setting up the sleeping area with Zoro.

You and Zoro we on good terms, you would sometimes ask him to help you train and would study him a lot. You were never really a love-crazy person, but something about the way Zoro carries himself made your heart beat a little faster, It got especially worse when you started hanging around him more often. Obviously you would never want to admit this, even if you do sometimes let your mind wander off thinking about him, or would sometimes catch yourself staring at him too hard while he trained. You don't want to admit you have a slight crush on him, because if you did you'd only have your heart broken. You respected Zoro, but you also acknowledge how empty-headed he can be, you know that someone like Zoro doesn't do love, the only thing on his mind was swords, sake, and sleep. You'd sometimes daydream about what he'd be like as a boyfriend, but you knew it would never work between you two. Although you knew all of this... you still had those nights when you'd crave his touch, fantasizing what it would feel like to have his big thick hands caress the hot inners of your thighs, feel the warmth of his body against yours, the idea of having him manhandle you all night long just excited you.

"Oi, you should pick whichever blanket and pillow you want before the others get back"

With that you snapped back from being lost in thought, all this Zoro nonsense was starting to get to your head. You didn't want to like him, but your heart said "hmm yes, sword-man"

it was first come first serve when it came to the blankets/pillows, some were better than others so you took the chance to take the best ones. Zoro on the other hand took whichever one he picked up first.

You didn't know where to lay your stuff, so you just picked the middle of the deck. Zoro just plopped his stuff across from yours. Your feelings regarding him just kept coming back to your head, but after hearing Sanji and Luffy come out of the kitchen and the others start returning to the deck, you felt more at ease.

Sanji and Luffy were carrying some snacks that the chef had prepared, dead eyeing Luffy to make sure he didn't even eat a crumb of it, alas, we know how Luffy is.

A few kicks in the hip later and everyone had finally settled down into their sleeping area, Sanji though was handing out special desserts he had made for the ladies. You know how Sanji is.

When you first joined the crew you had a pretty big crush on Sanji, he had stolen your heart with his kindness, respect, and obviously his gentlemanliness. You knew if you wanted to be in a relationship with him, you could. However as time went on, your thoughts started flying everywhere, you'd wonder if he'd be a committed boyfriend, and you'd soon come to your conclusion that he just didn't seem like the loyal type, though you didn't have any proof of this well other then the fact he acts like a dog in heat around other women, thoughts just kept building up to the point where you started to distance yourself from him a little. Not by too much, just ignoring his flirtatious comments/compliments, never being in a room alone with him, and always being one of the first people to leave the kitchen after they're done eating. However, even with all your efforts to get this man outta your heart, you still can't look him in the eyes for too long without blushing, the way he gazes at you so softly always makes your heart melt.

"Y/n! I made you this pastry, I put all my heart into it! I hope it tastes as good as you look~"

His stupid heart-eyed expression always annoyed you, he'd do that to any girl he sees in a 1-mile radius. You thanked him and took his pastry, adverting eye contact.

You hated how pathetic you felt, both Zoro and Sanji had no clue how they made you feel, and that alone made you feel so small, and it's not like you'd do anything to change that. You just needed to grow up.

As the night went on the straw hat pirates did a list of activities to do. They built a blanket fort, made s'mores (Sanji did all the work, although Luffy did try to make a fire that almost ended in setting the ship on fire merry pt2) Had a pillow fight (which resulted in a few people flying off the ship) Played hide and seek, told scary storys, and finally ending in Robin reading everyone a bedtime story. You almost forgot this was a sleepover and not a party from how much fun you were having, but good things have to come to an end. Everyone was falling asleep, and you were even finding yourself..dozing...off....into.......sleep..............

....

"ACK"

You jolted up awake looking around confused, then look down to see what just hit you...

ah.

You piece the puzzle together, luffy had somehow turned upside down in his sleep and kicked you in the face by accident.

You wanted to hit him back but decided not to, you knew it'd wake up the others in the process.

You looked around to see everyone dead asleep with snores echoing to the area. you guessed it has been a few hours since everyone had fallen asleep. You get up and stretched your back, rubbing your eyes and making your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. You tried to not wake anyone up but it was hard considering it was like a maze to get out of with everyone sleeping on the floor and all. You'd soon happen to walk right above Sanji without even realizing, he grunted softly and adjusted his legs a little but that was enough movement to stop you right in your tracks. You could hear nothing but your heartbeat, it was a nerve-wracking feeling. You stared at him for a while, letting a deep sigh out. You were standing right above his face, with each foot on each side of his shoulder, if he were to wake up to this sight of you... you'd die of embarrassment, never being able to look at him the same. The more you stood there, the more your mind spun with late-night thoughts,

"what if I just sat on his face"

As soon as you thought that you turned bright red, and finally continued your way to the kitchen.

Finally, you made it to the kitchen, after what felt like years. You grab a cup and start filling it up with water until you hear someone walking outside the kitchen, your heart almost skipping a beat. You thought everyone had been off in dreamland at this time of night, but someone was awake aside from you.

You where just about to go see who it is until you hear a loud thud, then some arguing. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

You walked over to check the deck and alas, Zoro had "accidentally" stepped on Sanji's foot, causing Sanji to wake up. They were about to start a commotion until you grabbed their attention and Motion them to shush.

You were thinking how this can get any worse? They end up coming to the kitchen to see what you're up to. At this point, you're panicking a little bit, you alone with the two of them? that thought alone gets your mind racing. You assure yourself that nothing is going to happen.

"Whatcha doing awake at this time of hour?"

"Luffy kicked me awake, I was just grabbing a glass of water."

"Are you ok?? does it still hurt??"

Sanji walked over to you to get a better look at your face, his face closer than it has ever been to yours, his eyes...you felt your heart doing break dances in the sudden excitement but also felt embarrassed. You dodged the eye contact and nervously faked laughed

"Ya! im fine, don't worry it wasn't too hard"

you walked off to take a seat at the table, cup in hand.

"Zoro, what'ya up for?"

"I heard some movement and noise... came to check who it was, ended up waking this guy up to"

Sanji shot an annoyed stare at Zoro, and Zoro shot one back. The tension between them was getting out of hand, you just wanted to drink your water in peace. You decided to cut the water short and go back to sleep, you were about to get up but Zoro gave an idea.

"Well, since we'll all awake, how about we do something while we have a drink"

"That's just your dumb excuse to drink sake you stupid celery stick."

"and what about it? you curly fry!"

What did he wanna do? Zoro went to grab the sake, Sanji looked like steam was about to come out his ears.

He'd had gotten 2 sake bottles and 1 empty one.

"I knew you were an idiot but come on? I hope you know thats an empty bottle"

"of course I know you dumbass"

Zoro was gritting his teeth in anger. You couldn't help but wonder what the empty bottle was for... Zoro placed the three bottles down, he had brought 2 cups for the sake and gave one to you, he didn't care enough to bring one for Sanji. He sat back down and poured himself a cup, he put the second bottle closer to you. You looked at Sanji, but he was too busy giving Zoro a dirty look.

"Whatever! I didn't wanna drink anyways"

You knew you couldn't handle sake, it was too strong for your taste. 2 or 3 cups full would probably get you pretty drunk. You decided to fill the cup up and down it. You never really liked the taste of sake, you didn't understand how Zoro can drink this stuff all the time.

"Time to play truth or dare"

Zoro smirked as he looked at both you and Sanji. Your eyes widen a little.

"you're on"

"What?"

Zoro placed the bottle down ready to spin, it's not really how you play truth or dare, at least not the way you played it. there was never a bottle involved?.

He spins the bottle, sending it spinning around the table. You were sitting at the end table while Zoro was sitting on the left and Sanji on the right. The bottle stopped closer to the left side.

"Your up Zoro, truth or dare"

"dare"

Zoro didn't even hesitate, caught you a little off guard, but that didn't stop you from coming up with something.

" Yell out the first word that comes to your head "

"SAKE."

You shook a bit when he yelled that. You didn't expect him to do it so fast without hesitation. He drank more of his sake and spun the bottle again. You were a little scared, but you felt excited. But that excitement soon turned to dread when you saw the bottle slowly stop on you.

"Y/n! Truth or dare?"

"uhh...truth?..."

You had thought that truth would've been better than dare, you were in the heat of the moment, and it's usually common knowledge that dare is worse than truth, but for a split second, you had forgotten what situation you were in. You had forgotten who you were with.

"hmm..."

there was a moment of silence between the three of you. The tension was ripping you apart. You drank another cup of your sake. You were trying to make a mental note to not drink too much, but all you could focus on was the words that were going to come out of one of their mouths. They both looked at each other, then at you, then back at each other. You felt your palms begin to sweat a little, you were cupping them in between your legs playing with your thumbs.

"What is your biggest fantasy?"

Sanji was staring at you like you were about to tell them where the one piece was. The sudden attention on you had you suddenly blush. You couldn't look them in the eye, you couldn't even think of a fake answer. The first thing that came to your mind was having your way with both of them. Your face grew red and knew that you couldn't just say nothing. You started to feel the sake, you started to crack a smile. You couldn't hide it now, they were staring at you wondering what you were thinking.

"M-my fantasy..."

Your eyes looking down the whole time, you weren't brave enough to bring them up. your imagination was running wild, and before you realized it, you were spacing out again

"Is-- too--... be with..."

You realized what you were about to say and blinked away the dumbness. You quickly looked up to see them, but that only sent more butterflies to attack your tummy. You caught both of their eyes and felt yourself burning up.

"be with? what do you like someone?"

When Zoro said that Sanji looked like his soul had flown out of his body. You had no idea what to say, you had dug your own grave.

"ah n- uh well... uhm..."

With the sake and the level of embarrassment, you were feeling right now you couldn't form a clear sentence. You thought maybe you should drink more sake, to loosen up, but then who knows what'll you'll say next

"y/n— do you really like someone??"

Sanji was in disbelief, To be honest, it was a more genuine reaction than what you would have thought.

"That isn't... the question... I don't have to answer that"

Even without saying it both of them knew You had someone in your heart. Little did they know it was the two of them! You knew your cover was busted. They just couldn't find out it was them.

"alright fine, let's change the question, who do you like y/n?"

Zoro had an evil grin on his face, it annoyed you to the core. It also annoyed you that they were pressing you about a whole new question!

"That wasn't the original q-question! That's... not fair!"

"Well, you didn't answer the other question in time, so time for a new one."

You were beyond annoyed but also nervous as hell. How has this situation gotten worse? You cursed Zoro for being such a dick! You hated that you liked him. Plus Sanji is over there eager to know your answer, giving you all his undivided attention.

"I like...some guy...you don't know him"

Sanji looked so defeated, While Zoro over there just stared at you, you weren't even able to keep eye contact for a second without feeling your face warm up. You dont understand what they expected, or what you should've said??

The night goes on and after a while, the truths started to become worse than the dares. There was a rule where you could only pick the same thing 3 times in a row or else on your 4th time the other players get to pick for you. There were some incidents where you forgot the rule and it ended in an embarrassing mess. You'd had taken your last cup of sake for the night making it at 4 cups and at that point your inner self was on do not disturb and your embarrassment had flown out the window, the men in front of you took notice of this. Now, The bottle is on Sanji, you are thinking of a truth question but you just end up blurting out the first thing you think of.

"hehehe.... What ... turns you on the most? sannnji~"

Your question caught both Zoro and Sanji completely off guard. You went from not being able to make eye contact to this? You stayed giggly and kept looking at the stunned blonde. Sanji was Speechless, his face blushed with a little bit of pink. None of them have ever seen this side of you. It was a turn-on in itself!

"haa...uhh..probably would be..."

He already knew the answer, but could never say it was you, but of course he wants to say you. He's loved you ever since you joined the crew. He loves you so much it hurts to not be around you, but he doesn't want to force anything or make things uncomfortable for you. He didn't want to say anything to you because he couldn't read you sometimes, one day you'll be kind to him and the next you'd be giving him the cold shoulder. He didn't want to make the wrong move so he just went your flow, but by doing so it sorta created a distance between the two of you. He always tells himself it's what you want, but it still breaks him. He'd think about you every night before he slept, hoping one day you love him as much as he loves you. He doesn't like to think of himself as a pervert, but every now and then when he's taking care of "Business" he'd always Dream of you, how you'd look completely exposed under him while he plants a kiss over your soft face, then on your neck, then your perked up breast, thinking of that alone can get him stone hard.

He looked at you, you looked so adorable, like nothing in the world mattered.

"as long as its the person I love, anything they do can get me going"

He didn't break eye contact, but gave a soft smile to you, it was like he was trying to tell you with his eyes. You on the other hand were too drunk to get the memo. Sanji grabbed the bottle and gave it a hard spin. It eventually stopped on Zoro, he had only been doing dares when given the chance, so now it's his turn to do truth. You gave him this Big cheeky smile alongside a giggle. After that question Sanji got, Zoro wasn't too excited about whatever you were about to spit out.

"....How many ...people have you slept with?"

He knew he shouldn't be surprised but damn. Your expression plus the way you said that was so....he felt his heart skipping and doing a little dance. You looked so vulnerable in his eyes, made him just wanna carry you to somewhere private and have his way with you. He didn't even realize he had feelings for you, not until a few weeks ago. He was Training like usual but it felt more empty like Something was missing. when he was done, he saw you talking to Luffy. He knew nothing was going on between you two but something about how happy you looked bugged the hell outta him. He wanted to just walk over and sweep you away, he wanted you to only ever be that happy when you're with him. That's when he realized, what was he thinking? he thought he might've been tired so he took a nap but even in his dreams he saw you, but you were so out of reach. It drove him crazy, to the point he couldn't even look at you without feeling a pain in his chest. He knew at that point it was love, it had to be.

"Hmm, 3"

Zoro had been with a few people way before he had met Luffy, but this news absolutely blew you away, you couldn't even hide how visibly surprised you were. This meant that Zoro actually cared about his love life?? well at least his sex life, but you were jumping to conclusions. This all hit you at once, like a big sign that said "YOU HAVE A CHANCE" you didn't even know what to say, but before you could muster up anything he had already gone and spun the bottle. You were still processing all the thoughts in your head, not even noticing the bottle barely on your side.

"y/n Truth or dare"

now that you know Zoro could potentially develop feelings, you go in for the kill. At this point, you had all the confidence in the world.

"I p-pick truth!!"

you were riding the little bit of hope you had, you fully believed in yourself. You were ready for whatever they were about to say! However You took a look at Zoro, he was giving this devilish smirk and looked like he was trying to contain a laugh. He looked up to meet your eyes.

"Who would you rather want to sleep with, Me, or Curlybrows?"

You looked at Zoro, a little puzzled, even Sanji let out a small gasp, he didn't think Zoro would ask such a straightforward question. Zoro knew if worse came to worse he could blame it on the booze.

You knew that too.

...

"I-I'd rather sleep with both of you"

You saying that felt like a 10-ton hammer had been lifted off of you. You felt so free now that you have nothing to hide anymore. Other than your feelings. Maybe they got the hint? you looked back at them, both flushed with a red tint down to their neck, Sanji grabbing a tissue to block the blood from coming out his nose while Zoro froze up. The room went silent for a moment until it was broken by the sound of Zoro's chair backing up. You looked up at Zoro wondering what he was doing? Maybe you weirded him out and he was leaving, you never stopped looking at him until he had walked right up to you.

"It's a damn shame you didn't say just me, but hey, better than nothing"

Quickly he spun your chair to face him and leaned forward to grab your chair armrest.

"You idiot marimo! Whattya-"

Sanji quickly got up to back Zoro away from you.

"Shut it you shitty chef... listen for a second"

He never broke eye contact with you. Him leaning above you gripping your arm rests for some reason turned you on? the roughness was extremely hot.

"I know your drunk.... but tell me where you being serious"

You were confused why Zoro took it so personally. In response to his question, you shook your head yes. He moved his face closer to your ear, you could feel his body warmth from how close he was.

" would you wanna do it now? "

His words lingered in your ear, his deep whispery voice made you clinch your thighs together. Took a second for you nod yes, you haden't fully realized your actions before Zoro picked you up and plopped you on his shoulder your ass towards his face while you stared dumbfounded at Sanji.

"You heard her Curlybrows, she wants us to fuck her"

You've never seen Sanji so flabbergasted, it was honestly kinda cute, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. They were gonna what you? you looked at Sanji to see him following Zoro, bring more tissues. You cover your face, you didn't know if he was joking or not, but here you are at The aquarium bar. No one was gonna hear anything, was he being serious??

He sat you down on the long sofa, giving you a peck on the forehead. Sanji then followed by sitting next to you. He looked eager to touch you, his eyes scanning your body, but he took your hand and kissed all around it, kissing your palm, your fingers, your knuckles, then finally looking at you, the light from the aquarium tank made him look so Beautiful.

"Are you sure you want this darling?"

Your heart almost exploded in your chest, this is what you've been waiting for, this moment right now. To give them all your love. You felt Zoro take your other hand and kiss your wrist slowly trailing up, stopping on your skin and looking at you, waiting for your answer.

"yes...

Please..."

You could feel Zoros smirk on your skin, he snuck a few more kisses in and got up on his feet.

"Curlybrow."

Zoro balled his hand in a fist, initiating a game of rock paper scissors. Without questioning, Sanji did the same.

"Rock, paper Scissors"

Sanji had won.

Zoro gave a defeated look, while even tho Sanji had no clue why they were doing this, he was still smug because he had won.

Zoro took your hand and tugged you in front of him, your back directly on his chest. You could feel his erection on your ass, and knowing how turned on he was made you even hornier.

"I got top, you got bottom"

Sanji was already happy he beat Zoro, but now he gets to eat you out too? he couldn't be more excited. He got on his knees and slowly started taking off your shorts, letting them drop to your ankles. He couldn't believe the sight he was seeing, taking it all in and staring without making a move, the way he eyed your wet panties made you needier.

You jolted a little when you felt a wet kiss on the crease of your underwear, he licked the brim, and he kissed all around your panties just before spreading your thighs more to get a better angle of your covered pussy. He started to lick your clit through your panties, he could already tell how wet you were before he even started. He suckled and pushed his saliva through your underwear making you lean into his mouth, even with your panties on he still somehow managed to devour you.

While Sanji was getting busy feasting on your honeypot, Zoro had already crawled his way under your shirt into your bra. He had mange to sleep with women before, but that doesn't mean he knows how to take off a bra, after all, he's still a dumbass. you could tell he was struggling a little, which made you internally giggle and crack a half smile until he had enough and literally ripped that shit in half. The shock shoved you deeper into Sanji's face causing you to slightly moan, you saw your ripped bra fall to the floor and a pair of Big calloused hands Touch you up. Your soft skin, your scent, and your little gasps at every touch were driving Zoro mad. He was a hungry beast and you were the only cure for his Hunger. He dug his face into your neck while he messaged your breasts, sucking your shoulder, then moving to the side of your neck, from the side moving to the back. You could feel him taking in your Pleasant aroma, it gave you Goosebumps.

You were getting needier, you wanted more. It felt as if they were just testing the waters, you bit the inside of your bottom lip slightly staring at Sanji's head. He kissed all around your thigh, lifting his head and now making eye contact with you.

"Can I take this off, sweetheart?"

He tugged slightly at your panties, his eyes were as soft as his touch. You nodded your head yes and felt him slowly take them off. You felt the cold air meet your wet cunt, you could also feel how wet your panties were when he took them off. Your legs flinched a little at the new cold atmosphere. Your bottoms have completely been taken off and were fully exposed. you could just feel Sanji's extreme gaze on you, he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh as he pecked kisses all around the front of your pussy.

His tongue taking lead and slowly made a sloppy trail to meet your slit. You twitch your legs slightly closer and a small airy "ah" moans out your mouth. You could feel Sanji's mouth touch your sweet clit, he groaned into your cunt making your legs shake. Zoro was getting busy full-on needing your tits, He brushed against your now erected nipples, toying with them. He made sure to not fully play with them just to tease you a little.

"Z-Zoro"

You whisper bringing your hand to touch your breasts, but before you could Zoro pinned your hands behind your back and pushed his boner into your ass, slamming your pussy all in Sanji's face. you let out a desperate moan as you felt Sanji's groan vibrate throughout your body, he didn't stop his feast and continued to eat you out. His tongue flicked your clit at a rapid pace, sucking and licking like that was the last meal he'll ever eat. You jolted at the sudden bite Zoro had marked on the side of your neck. He was still holding your hands tight, he won't allow you to help him. With his free hand he grabbed your face by the cheeks to pull you into a wet kiss. He groaned into your mouth and could feel how hard he was breathing, he slide his tongue in pushing your faces closer together like he wanted to merge.

You both pulled out of your intense kiss, gasping for air. Sanji wasn't letting up, his tongue was like a gift from god. He went from fast licking and suckles, to slow tongue glides across your sensitive spot. You felt Zoros mouth right over your ear, He bit it softly and sucked on the area he had bit. You let out a louder moan, goosebumps ran through your body as you felt Zoros wet tongue enter your ear. The feeling was so new, your body squirmed at the feeling, but that only made you rub against Sanji's tongue more. His wet tongue moved its way along the inside of your ear, you could hear his groans Crystal clear. You felt yourself coming to a climax, Your back arched and you locked Sanji's face in between your thighs.

"I-I'm— ahh!"

You couldn't form a sentence, the pleasure was too immense. They understood that you were about to cum, you felt Sanji pick the pace up a little, and Zoro with played with your nipples. You let out a finishing moan and leaned forward into Sanji's face, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your legs shook profusely as you felt overwhelmed, you were on your tippy toes at this point. Drool ran down your face as you felt you're high come down, your legs became weak as Sanji pulled away. Zoro had bear-hugged you for support just in case, you were breathing so heavily it sounded like you were whimpering.

Sanji kissed your thigh, his soft wet lips against the inside of your Shakin thigh made you Twitch. Zoro still hugging you, lifted you and sat you back down on the sofa. You looked at them both, Zoro was as red as a tomato, and Sanji cleaned his face with his thumb, your juices glistened on his finger, his face was bloodshot red and looked like he was about to blow up. You then noticed the tent that laid on his pants, you looked at Zoro, just to see the same.

Sanji is still on his knees, laying his head on your lap. You motioned him to sit on the sofa, which he quickly did.

Your heart was still beating heavily, you wanted to make them feel as good as they made you. You turn to Zoro and whisper in his ear

"You'll be in back"

As you drew your head away from him, You could see the not-so-slick smirk that had crept onto his flustered face, Zoro didn't even try and hide his satisfaction. Sanji had wondered what you told him, but before he could ask you had gotten on all fours and faced Sanji, you pecked a kitten kiss onto his still-wet lips. As you went further down, your back arched more upwards, lifting your ass for Zoros view. They had both got the memo, Sanji protested cupping your face in his hands.

"Wait-! Y/n, I don't want to get your Beautiful face dirty... you don't have to do this"

His cute puppy-eyed face made you wanna do it even more.

"I want to do this...I...I've been waiting to..."

Sanji bit his lip and groaned at the way you stroked his hardness slowly up and down. You didn't even give him a chance to protest, he was already melting from your touch. You could feel Zoro message your ass slowly, like he was waiting for something. He rubbed his erection onto your exposed cunt, You held in your moan, you craved him more than ever. You slid off Sanji's pants and pulled his dick out, you looked at it wondering if you could really take him all in your mouth. However, before you got to test that thought you felt Zoro smack your ass, you yelped in shock. He bent forward a little and pulled your face up towards him, he whispered deeply in your ear

"you didn't tell me what you wanted."

His voice was so rich and gruff in your ear, you let out a small Exhale as he dug his crotch into your ass, rubbing it slowly.

"I— want you"

"You want me what?"

"to..f-fuck me.."

He hummed hearing you say that "Now put it all together" he teased

"I-I want you to fuck me Zoro!"

"That's my girl"

He set you back to doggy style and grabbed your ass, sanji kissed your forehead before giving Zoro an ugly look. Not for too long tho, when he felt your tongue meet the tip of his dick. He couldn't even remember what he was mad about. He jolted and let out not so concealed groan.

You sucked the tip feeling it twitch in your mouth. The warmth filled you as you took more of him, licking around his Veins, You got off to seeing how much pleasure that was spread onto Sanji's face. That thought was cut sort becuase of a sudden pressure you felt in your backside. You almost choked when you felt the tip of Zoros dick press into your entrance. You didn't expect him to be so thick, you felt a moan bubble up and couldn't hold it in, letting out a muffled moan onto Sanji's member. Which he surely enjoyed.

"Mmh!"

Your walls wrapped around him like a Christmas present, the grip was real he felt like he could cum just like that but he knew that wouldve been embrassing He gripped your ass and let out a broken grunt. Your toes curled with each inch he went deeper, you could feel his dick pulsing in you. He spread your cheeks apart with his thumbs, to get a better look at how his dick just fills you up. He suddenly pulled out slowly, you let out a little whine of confusion. You wanted to look back at him and see what he was doing, but as he was tip-deep he thrusted hard into you. Your legs jolt together, you feel Sanji's dick hit the back of your throat, you couldn't help but let out a choked gag.

Zoro's thrusts were slow but hit hard, he'd try to go slow, but his patients was running low, he couldn't help it when his hips started to pick up the pace.You bobbed your head up and down feeling Sanji's tip hit the back of your throat. Slurping his dick out your mouth you look up at him as you let your tongue roll out, all the juices that's been building in your mouth leak from your tongue to the head of his member.

"shit..."

Sanji really couldn't hold back how much he wanted to just devour you, his face went apple red as he bit his lip and tried to keep eye contact. His chest grew and shrank as his breath increased, you put him back into your mouth while stroking him. You loved seeing him this Squamish, you loved his soft moans and groans, any noise that came out his mouth made you want to have the sloppiest make-out session. You loved the Control you had over him and his pleasure, you felt your clit pulsing, you went to go play with it but Zoro grabbed your arm and folded it behind you. He went for your other arm and crossed it behind your back. He gripped your hands tight as his hips slammed against your ass, he was going all in now, his thrusts sounded like gun shots, he wanted to go as deep as he could. Loud moans and groans filled the air along with slapping sounds, Your head was getting fuzzy and your eyes where clouded.

The hard thrusts and motions from Zoro did all the work for you when giving head to Sanji, The sensation made your teary eyes roll back, you felt your stomach knot, and your moans became more loud and desperate. You felt yourself reach your limit as Zoro hit your cervix. Your legs shook and tightened up as you felt yourself cramp up, warm tears ran down your stuffed face. You moaned onto Sanji's dick when you felt him bring his hands to your face, his thumbs rubbing away your tears from your puffed-up flustered cheeks.

Sanji's hands tensed up, he was reaching his climax feeling his dick hit the back of your throat, hearing the gurgling noises you made with each thrust Drilled into his ear. He was drunk on lust, he didn't even realize he was gripping your face slightly and moving his hands along with each thrust Zoro did. He let out one last groan as he filled your mouth with his seed. Zoro wasn't too far off from his own release. He held your hands with one hand and your neck with the other, slapping against you again and again. Edging closer to his pleasure like an animal in heat. His breath was out of sync with his movement and his grunts started becoming more rough. He quickly pulled out and painted your ass white, he held his twitchy cock on your ass stroking it vigorously until nothing came out.

As everyone came down from their high, both Zoro and Sanji realized how messy things had got. Your face is covered in a mix of cum and saliva, and your ass is graffitied with Zoros jizz. Sanji had taken a minute to question what happened to all the stuff in your mouth? He dragged his thumb to your bottom lip and slowly pressed into your mouth, to see everything had been gone. A part of him was extremely turned on

"did you swallow it darling??"

Sanji was both concerned and extremely flustered, but before he got to overreact you felt your legs go weak, you couldn't hold yourself up anymore and collapsed.

You woke up on deck, Your face tucked in zoros neck. Your body still felt sore but it was bearable, you were all cleaned up from what the three of you had done. Having zoro hold you with such security and softness made you feel at ease. You heard the others from the kitchen, it was only you and Zoro who hadn't gone to breakfast. You felt bad for Sanji since he couldn't sleep in with you. You looked at Zoros's resting face, you examined him how handsome he was.

"Go back to sleep"

He mumbled, adjusted his pose, and pulled you closer to him. You gave him a little peck on the neck before you felt your tiredness creep up on you, it was not long before you and him Fell back to sleep with the morning wind brushing against your warm faces~ꨄ

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

prūmӯs ñuhus (my heart) │Chapter 7: Betrayal (NSFW!)

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 │Chapter 11 │Chapter 12 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Childbirth is the duty and dismay of all highborn women. Together, you and Daemon experience the trials, tribulations and triumphs of expectant parenthood. You learn the truth.

(Set post-episode 7, though Daemon never married Laena or Rhaenyra.)

Thank you to @angelqueen04​, @evisnotok​​, @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ and @ajthefujoshi​ for holding my hand throughout the drafting, teehee!

Triggers: incest, age gap, purity culture, detailed depictions of pregnancy, discussion of abortion.

You dream in abstract.

There is no form to it—no faces to see nor words to hear in the fanciful void of your mind. Instead, it is shapeless, immaterial, washes of colour and vague impressions of sound like music in a far-off hall. It is a blessed reprieve from the convincing re-enactments of the day’s events your thoughts usually produce under the sway of slumber, and most certainly a relief in light of…

No.

A sensation enters your sleeping consciousness, one that does not fit the transience of those singularities swirling about in your head. It is far too concrete, unyielding, unrelenting to belong here. That strange feeling tickles throughout your body, coalescing low in your stomach and pooling warm between your thighs.

You sigh as you awaken slowly, as peaceful as the rocking of an infant in their cradle. Drowsily, you take note of your surroundings, the way in which you are propped up against the pillows with your shift gathered at your waist and your legs dangling over your uncle’s wide-set shoulders. You wonder absently how he always manages to rearrange you so without rousing you.

Why does he always choose to wake me with his carnal appetites? It seems to you that he has never once attempted to shake you or call your name.

It does not surprise you that he is once more availing himself of your particular assets, given his near unbearable persistence in proving that his inability to bed you previously was but a momentary impediment. You have considered hiding to discourage him from making this point yet again—but you do so enjoy the outcome of his efforts.

Your breathing must change cadence, for you are drawn further into the realm of awareness by his large, calloused hand smoothing a path along the side of your rounded belly.

“Sȳz ñāqes, dōnītsos.” Good morning, sweetling, Daemon murmurs against your heated flesh. His breath spools delicately across the puffed folds of your cunny.  “Sh. Inkot edrugon jās.” Go back to sleep.

You mumble incoherently, lips curving up despite your reluctance to awaken. Your hand drifts down to pat against his, your smile widening when he flips his palm to lock his fingers with your own. Returning to his task and nuzzling inexorably at your yearning little bud, the stubble on his jaw rasps against your inner thighs in tantalising counter to the glide of tongue over tender tissue.

It is sweet, impossibly indulgent, with none of the bite of hurt that you have come to crave in your couplings. You are so sensitive these days that, at times, such contact borders on agonising. The blood in your veins thrums far hotter now that you are three dragons in one form, you and each of the babes in turn. But here in the quiet stillness of the morn, every swipe up the split of you or rumbling resonance through your responsive nerve endings or greedy suckle to your pearl tips you further and further to that golden finish. Your joined hands rest against your middle, stretched taut and full of your children. You send a silent prayer above in thanks that they are asleep as their father tends so amorously to their mother.

The release is a wave cresting to the coastline, gentle and buoyant and rapturous as it ever is. It is as though the ocean pulses out from deep within you, wetting the way for your husband’s return to the safe shores of your body.

“Daemon.” Tipping your head back, you let the surge take you. You hear the ruffle of fabric dropping and feel the press of skin against yours.

“Ah-ah,” Daemon says. “Open up, little niece.” Hands prying your knees from their clenched-together defense of your inflamed womanhood, he props your feet against the bedframe to force your legs wide, sliding the length of himself through your slick lips. “Your cunt is mine to use, even if you are already bred full.”

The velvet-steel line of his hardened shaft slips inside, a brief press to the scrunching firmness of your entry that gives way with a pop and a rush. He grunts as he cleaves you in two, the heft of his stones slapping against the skin of your rear being the only sign that he cannot invade any further.

You can do nothing but accept it, weighed down by your belly as you are. Arching your back, you let out a low whimper, feeling that terrible, wonderful overcrowding in your womb and in your cunny.

“Good girl.” He stills the discomfited shift of your hips with an iron grip. It is an abrupt taking—but like the curves of your figure, the efforts of growing his seed to their full has made you softer, rounder, more pliant. You blink hazily at him, mouth opening dumbly as you surrender to the tide. “Just lay back. Let kepa take care of you.”

His covetous gaze roams across the changes he has wrought in you; your plush thighs, plump cheeks, enlarged breasts and the sway of your distended middle as he pitches into you being but some of the most notable within his immediate reach. It is difficult to be self-conscious of these vicissitudes when his violet eyes fixate so zealously upon them, promptly trailed by the heat of his hands across those same places.

The sight of him—his silver hair rumpled from sleep, the prominent shelf of his brow and the exhilarated parting of his lips, the thrilling menace of his broad shoulders and thick-scarred skin, the flex of his arms as his hands seek new territory to touch—pools hot in your gut. The sound of your wetness being stirred with his every plunge into you is a churning melody that blazes beneath your skin.

You listen lethargically to the lustful affirmations spilling uncontrollably from Daemon’s lips. He is so terribly loquacious when his cock is in you, consumed by his ardour and forgetting any such difficulties he has in conveying the depth of his emotions.

“… so tight for me… barely any room left for my cock, but you just keep taking it, don’t you?… made to take me… fuck. I’ll fuck you forever. Keep you heavy and helpless like this fucking always…”

His obsession with your fecund form is flattering if a bit predictable. Grinning sleepily at his words, you yawn as you tug up your sleepwear to bare your breasts for him. Your nipples tingle as the cooler air makes contact, tightening them to hard tips. You smooth the pads of your thumbs over them to alleviate the sudden prickle.

His eyes zero in on the movement, ogling you heatedly.

“Play with your tits,” he says, holding the mass of your belly still so that he may speed the tempo of his cock inside you, thick and hot and catching against that high point along your walls that makes you clamp down uncontrollably. You moan faintly as you reach back up to cup the heft of your breasts. He makes an animal noise at the display. “That’s it. Are they sore, precious? A little harder—there.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you obey his command, squeezing the supple flesh, pulling at the teats just as your two babes will when they nurse from your body to nourish their own. They have been hypersensitive as of late. You are unsure if your own touch is painful or pleasurable. Regardless, the sheer strength of it is enough to reignite the familiar ember signalling a new climax.

Making a show of the ache, you wiggle down into his thrusts to feel the shudder ripple up your spine when he drives to the end of you. You are rewarded with a quickening of pace and the sound of his panting breaths as he exerts himself above you, flushed and sweating and entirely consumed by the welcoming clutch of your cunt. “Daemon. Can I pe–peak, please?”

“So well-behaved.” He chuckles, grinning wickedly as he watches a lone trail of liquid trek from your eye down your temple and disappear into your hairline. “I do love when you cry for me.”

You nod furiously at his words, blinking more stray droplets from your lashes. Eagerly spreading your thighs as far apart as you can, you yelp as the angle changes. Your uncle hisses at the sight, a hand disappearing below the protrusion of your middle; you cry out as he introduces his thumb to your bud, drawing back the hood and rubbing up in inescapable motions.

“I suppose you’ve earned it. Go on, then,” he says. “Come.”

As the obedient wife you are, you heed his wish. This time, there is little that is gentle about the way your walls constrict on him, making the rapid rock of his cock a near unbearable intrusion. The air flees your lungs and your limbs lock in place as the bliss washes over you, soundless in spite of the force of it.

“Thank you, thank you,” you say when you are able to catch your breath again, your grip upon your breasts becoming less of a cultivated show and more a necessity that keeps them from bobbing about wildly.

He ruts into you with jerky, uneven slaps, too fast and too hard for you to truly enjoy. You endure it—you have had your fill. Now, it is his turn.

“Are you going to spill in me, kepus?” you ask, falsetto pitch and airy tone, using what little leverage you have to push your lower body up into his urgent offensive. The burn in your thighs is immediate, but you will not need to hold this position for long. “I want you to, please, please—”

“Yes,” he growls, deep and dark, face contorted into something resembling pain and eyes closing in concentration, seemingly heedless of the spiel tumbling from his mouth. “I’ll come in this cunt, keep you in this bed fat with my heirs and leaking my seed, lick it out of you later—”

Your lip curls with feigned petulance, girlish and stubborn and exactly to his liking. “What if I cannot wait ‘til later, kepus?”

He gasps like he is winded by the suggestion of it, juddering strokes that begin to hurt, but you love it. You love how undone you can make him with such simple words, and you prepare yourself to deal the finishing blow.

“Maybe you should clean me up straight away,” you say coquettishly, nails digging into your skin to distract from the ache of him. “Taste us together and kiss me so I can, too—”

“Fuck!”

He moans, stilling inside, fully in your core, the spasms of his manhood pumping spend hot and thick into the very depths of you. His iron grip eases into inattentive pats across your skin as his stare refocuses on you, a look of such sheer relief on his face that you are momentarily overcome by the urge to laugh.

My poor uncle.

“Gods, this cunt.” Daemon hunches over you briefly, riding out the remainder of his release before withdrawing, catching sticky along your walls as he tugs away.

Your attention wavers when he rummages around out of sight for a cloth with which to wipe his shaft free of your mingled fluids, the tell-tale signs of breeches being yanked back up and laces being knotted easy to hear. Your legs close once more, an ingrained habit from the weeks and months of wishing your womb would do its work and catch your uncle’s seed. You shift uncomfortably at the unwelcome intrusion of reality into this sacred space.

The tea.

“Need help up, sweetling?”

You banish the disturbance from your mind. Taking his proffered hand, you allow your amused husband to assist you in sitting upright, again availing yourself of his geniality to lumber your way back into the arrangement he had facilitated you in achieving when you had gone to sleep the night previous. With your body fully covered and reclined, you flop on your side with an exhausted puff, already tired from your romp and the effort of moving about with such an unwieldy figure.

A dip in the mattress heralds his settling behind you, arm banding over your waist and palm coming to rest over your belly. “The babes give you any rest?” He punctuates this enquiry with an absent press of lips to your neck, breath humid upon your flesh.

You mumble noncommittally, distracted by the pulsating movements emanating through your middle. “I slept well enough—but you have gone and woken them.” You do not even try to conceal the complaint in your voice.

He laughs against your shoulder, hand tracking the activity under your skin. They are taking tumbling practice today, you think with some measure of vexation, though the exhilarated fascination remains ever near. You cannot help but to exult in the signs that your children are alive, that they are well, despite—No.

You will not think upon that night.

It is unhealthy to repress something of such magnitude. While you know this, you simply cannot indulge the thought of casting your memory back to the weight of that man bearing down toward your belly, the stink of his rotting breath and the sight of watery blue eyes wild on you, the warm stickiness of Miriam’s blood seeping from her cooling body through your sweat-soaked gown—

No. You shall not. The tears have come and gone. You have pandered to the urge to lay about in dazed silence for long enough.

“They’re lively little things, aren’t they?”

The urge to cry flows and ebbs in unpredictable rhythm yet again at the sound of Daemon’s quiet awe. Damn it all. You can even picture the expression he is sure to be wearing: eyes wide and dark, mouth parted with corners quirked, unblinking and trained steadfastly to the expanse of his babes as they wriggle and turn unknown within your womb.

“Does it hurt?” He sounds far too worried for such a simple query. Oh, Daemon. He might be asking about the babes’ movements, but you know what he really means.

‘Are you hurt?’ he wants to ask. ‘Are you safe? Are they safe?’

If the horrors of your time anew in King’s Landing have made you weepy and disconsolate, they have made him compulsive and paranoid, wholly preoccupied with the task of ensuring that even the slightest impediment to your peaceful confinement is removed post-haste.

“No,” you say. “It feels odd, but not painful. It… Oh, I cannot describe it right,” You turn to look at him. He is as always absorbed by you, hanging onto your every word. Taking his hand in yours, you tap your fingers across his skin, mimicking as best you can the sensation from within. “Like this—but on the inside. It does not hurt. It is just there.”

“Hm.”

You grumble as he tips you to your back, shuffling gracelessly down your body and bracing himself above you with his arms. The lower half of his face burrows into your belly so that all you are able to see of him is his violet stare and pale lashes and lined forehead. He rucks up your nightwear once again to lay his mouth upon your skin, something you usually catch him doing when he believes you asleep. The tell-tale vibrations of words spoken softly into flesh fizzle from the point of contact.

“What are you muttering to them down there?” you ask. “They are too young to become vassals for your unseemly behaviour, Uncle.”

“I’ll say what I like to my own children, little girl.” When his brows waggle with mischief above the crest of your middle, you kick him lightly in the side, the laughter bursting unrestrained from your lungs. “There are some things that ought to be kept between a father and his daughters,” he says, and you are sure he conceals a smile from beyond your view.

“If your sons take your guidance to heart, I shall not be dealing with the aftermath of whatever strife they decide to plague the Realm with. That is firmly in your hands.”

“If my daughters”—you squeal as he yanks you down by the thighs and parts them wide—“decide to follow in their kepa’s footsteps, you’re free to watch me teach them how to worm their way out of trouble.”

“Like you have?” Your voice is breathy, cracked at the end when you feel his fingers play with the seed that leaks from your raw opening, tacky and warm and squelching with each searching prod. “How many times have you been exiled again? Two? Three?”

You gasp as his hand strikes your mound, catching on your bud and your folds, hard enough to shock but not to cause injury. The feeling ripples out from its epicentre, slithering through your veins and lighting the tinder of desire anew. You sigh shakily as the sting sizzles along your skin.

“Don’t be naughty,” he says, breath travelling down, down, down along your bared flesh. “Impertinent brats don’t get rewarded.”

“Sorry, kepus. I’ll behave, I promise.” Silently, you bemoan how quickly he is able to redirect your changeable mood to one of lust. I want to sleep, you think.

“Good.” Daemon presses a wet kiss to the top of your womanhood, tingling with the blood raised from his slap. It is a sure sample of what is to come. “Now—I do believe you begged me to lick this little cunt clean before I left. I’d best give my wife what she wants, hm?”

Sleep can wait. You do so enjoy the outcome of his efforts, after all.

Though you adore him so, you are secretly glad for Daemon’s departure.

In the wake of the attack, he has become even more overbearing than before. When he is not embroiled in the business of searching out the architect of this plot—and truthfully, you know little of the details, partly out of desire to avoid as much mention of the event as possible and partly because he refuses to ‘burden’ you further—you are scarce to find a moment alone. It is not always a pretext for coupling, either, though that is in plentiful supply. Mostly, he watches you with intent eyes as you stitch gowns and bonnets and blankets for your babes, or rearrange the items you have procured for them, or nap out on the balcony in the late afternoon. You had been forced to put your foot down when he had attempted to accompany you to the privy. You hardly need his assistance in relieving yourself.

Remember what Ūlla said, is what you tell yourself each time he irks you with this irrational behaviour. You are impossibly grateful for the healer. If she had not dissuaded you from your anxiety after Daemon had stormed out in such a state, you might not possess any understanding of what induces him to linger so.

“He is man of control, Princess,” she had said to you. “So much control taken from him, so he cannot manage. He is very afraid. Be kind to him.”

She had been correct, of course. All of it—the untethered restlessness, the misdirected ire, the… performance issues—had very little to do with your own conduct and more-so his fear. You had comforted him as best you can, your beloved, stolid beast of a man. His fear has since taken on this new form. Truthfully, you are glad for such compulsive care, but you nonetheless welcome the opportunity to take respite from him on this day.

You turn your mind to your present task. “Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister.

Senna serves you and Helaena tea with shaky hands, spilling some of the hot liquid upon the saucer and the table. You do not reproach her for it. She has been nervous and withdrawn since discovering Miriam, in mourning for her companion as you have been.

Writing the letter to Miriam’s parents had been an incredibly difficult task. How do you convey that the girl in your service—a position that ought to be safest of all—was slain as an accessory to a greater scheme? Lord and Lady Butterwell had dolefully accepted your offer of a small monthly stipend, a mere pittance in comparison to the life that has been lost.

You nod kindly to your lady-in-waiting as she withdraws to the chaise to read, keeping to the background of your conversation should you have need of her.

Helaena glances hesitantly toward the tea before taking the handle in a delicate grip, sipping slowly from the contents within. “Of course. How are you feeling today?” Her attempt at a carefree enquiry falls flat in light of recent circumstances, her brow dipping in discomfort.

“I am well. The babes, too.” You watch her carefully for her reaction, and you are not disappointed. The wince at the mention of your children is slight, but it is there.

“I’m glad.” She takes another nervous mouthful, offering little else.

You sigh. It seems I must make the first play.

“We need to discuss it, Helaena,” you say, reaching out for her hand. She takes it, fingers trembling, a habit ingrained from years of doing the same. It generates a wistful sort of joy to know that you are still the only person she will so readily accept touch from. “You know we do.”

She had been far too hysterical last time, before. Before. You had scarcely discerned the truth of the matter before she devolved into weeping with such desolation that you had put all questions aside so as to console her. Knowing these details will not help you determine the culprit behind your enduring of so many barren moons, but it cannot hurt to learn where she has sought the concoction from. Perhaps her source and yours are linked.

Her eyes dart away from your face, and you squeeze her grip to catch her attention. You do not want her to retreat into her mind and escape from the present as she is wont to do.

She refocuses on you, timid and afraid. “What—what do you wish to know?”

You do not intend to press upon her reasoning further. The evening of the attempt upon your life, your sister had rambled on and on about ‘the time’ not being ‘right’. Any other may have claimed her mad, but you are certain that her mutterings are not the hallmark of insanity. No. Her decision is like to be driven by whatever signs and portents had been plaguing her dreams, the fractured visions of a child not yet meant to be. ‘Prophecy’ and ‘foresight’ are not words well-loved by the Faith, but her blood—that of Old Valyria—burns bright with magic lost to time.

Spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weave dragons of thread.

You shudder at the recollection.

“How many times have you taken it?” you decide to ask. “Where are you getting it? Is it even safe?”

And that is the crux of the matter, is it not? One of your first thoughts had been anger toward her for risking her wellbeing so thoughtlessly. Moon tea, when brewed improperly, can cause all sorts of harm to a woman. You may not know much, but you do know this.

“I’ve taken a draught once a moon’s turn, partway between my blood’s expected coming,” she says quietly, eyes shining a little too bright to be anything other than tears. “I—the Maester has a supply.”

Your mouth parts in surprise. “Grand Maester Mellos? And he is giving it to you?”

It goes against everything you know of the man, far more concerned with his own perception of duty than that of offering succour to young Princesses frightened by the power of their own bodies. His maladaptive sense of obligation had led to your mother’s death in her childbed, scored open and bled out like a hunter’s prize game.

“No.” Helaena shifts guiltily in her seat, gaze flickering away again. She bites her lip. Her next statement rushes from her like a breaking dam. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

You catch her meaning immediately. “You are stealing it.” The judgement seeps out uninhibited.

“I’m sorry!” She clutches so tight upon your hand that you fear she may crack the bones. “I am not ready.” She sounds like a child. It is then that you remember that, for all intents and purposes, she is. “I want to be brave, like you. But I’m not.”

All at once, the ire departs, leaving little other than pity for the girl in front of you. To commit such acts as those Septa Marlowe had spent her entire life proselytising against—and you know this because she had subjected you to the very same—can only mean that she must have been very desperate.

My poor, sweet sister. You swallow the unpleasant acridity that hits your palate. It tastes like guilt.

“I should have fought harder. To stop your marriage, to—to take you with me,” you say. “It was awfully selfish of me to… let myself get caught up in my own life while you had to marry our deviant of a brother—”

She frowns. “I don’t hate Aegon as you do.” You had not realised your disdain for him was quite so vitriolic as to warrant such disapproval. “It is true that he is… not a good husband. We will never love each other like you and Uncle Daemon. But neither can we love each other as siblings should. Some days… I wonder where that leaves us.” She appears to have drifted off to some unknown part of her own mind, caught up in her convoluted thoughts and staring deeply into the polished oak surface upon which lay your refreshments. “But he is part of me, and I am part of him. Can that not just… be enough?”

If there had been nothing else to remind you that your place is no longer in the capital, this serves well enough. To hear her support for your brother is surprising, but perhaps it ought not to be. Too long have you allowed yourself to indulge the illusion that there is a clear separation between you and Aegon, that Helaena and Daeron had attached themselves to you while Aemond had traipsed about with his erstwhile brother, lines drawn and never to be crossed.

It is not so simple. You know this from experience.

“Alright.” You let the matter lie. There has been enough division amongst your family, and you are ashamed to realise how great a part you have taken in it as of late.

I must be better for Helaena’s sake, you resolve, taking your cup in hand and savouring the sweeter notes of the raspberry leaf tea as it percolates across your palate. It lacks the aroma that you have come to prefer in your hot drinks. Ire rises within you at the prospect of having become so accustomed to the taste of moon tea that you had developed a partiality to it.

It is then that an arbitrary thought crawls from the deep well of your mind.

Moon tea is by law a restricted substance. The Grand Maester is beholden only to the royal family. But then—

“Helaena,” you say slowly, searchingly. She looks back up from her own teacup. “The tea. Who is the Grand Maester brewing it for?”

She pauses, brow wrinkled. “I—I don’t know.”

“It has to be someone in the Red Keep.” You lean forward. The motion is hindered by the unwieldiness of your belly. “Your mother?”

You do not think your brother would care overmuch for preventing his seed taking root in another woman’s womb. Thus, if it is not Helaena, then it must be your lady stepmother. But Alicent is far too pious a creature to rid herself of a ‘blessing from the gods’, or so she would put it. Nor would it make sense for her to wish death upon her child before it enters the world, not after four previous successful births.

Though, you owe, it is entirely possible that she would request it made for any number of Aegon’s whores or maidservants or low-born companions after yet another eve of iniquity.

“Mother?” Helaena tilts her head incredulously. “What use would she have of it now?” My poor, naïve sister. You cannot bear to make implications as to her husband’s fidelity, and so you stay silent. She continues without noticing your turmoil. “Besides, she despises the very thought of it. She says that moon tea is an affront to the gods.”

A loud thump and shatter disturbs the relative peace of your conversation. You crane your head in the direction of the sound, startled to see your lady-in-waiting’s pale, pale face and her eyes wide with alarm. Her book is splayed on the stone floor, its pages soaking up the tea from the cup that is now shards of shattered porcelain before her.

“Senna,” you ask. “Are you alright?”

She looks as though she has seen an evil apparition or heard an unearthly echo from beyond the veil.  “Yes, my Princess,” she says. Perhaps you would have been assuaged if not for the crack toward the end of her statement. Her lip trembles. She gulps. “I—”

Whatever she had intended to say does not come forth. Instead, she springs up from her seat, hastily sidestepping the chaos upon the ground and hurrying from the room through the solar door. You tug yourself from your chair using the edge of the table, glancing helplessly toward your sister.

“My apologies, Helaena—”

“Go see to her. I’ll stay here.”

You offer a brief appreciative smile before hastening after your companion, though admittedly your pace is slow and ambling. The weight of your middle tugs at your spine as you move. You grimace in discomfort.

Thankfully, Senna has not gone far. When you enter your solar—a room that you have not used once since being relocated—she is pacing through the weak light streaming in from the window, disturbing whorls of dust from the rug under her feet that dance iridescent in the glow. Her skin has taken on a ghastly pallor. It seems as though her lips have vanished from the sheer pressure at which she is pressing them together.

There is something deeply wrong here. You have never seen her so distressed.

“Senna?” You inch forward in unobtrusive increments so as not to startle her. “What is wrong?”

Your strategizing is for naught. She jumps in fright when hearing your voice echo in the stark chamber, entirely unaware that you had followed her through to relative privacy. Biting your lower lip, you ponder how best to coax a revelation from her.

You do not need to.

“I cannot keep this to myself any longer!” Clutching at her middle, you think Senna may have somehow injured herself—until she whirls to you, striding forward and sinking prostrate in front of you. “Oh, gods help me!” she wails, taking your hand as a penitent before a statue of the Mother. “Princess, please forgive me!”

A sinking suspicion settles in your gut. “Whatever is the matter?” you ask. A growing sense of foreboding looms near, one that leaches viscerally through your body, bitter and ashen upon your tongue. “I do not understand.”

She stares up at you with red-rimmed eyes, a contrast to the greyish hue of her flesh that is positively ghoulish. “I didn’t want to, I swear it! But you were so frightened about having children, and then you were married, and she told me that—”

Your stomach turns. The tea.

You no longer inhabit your body. Your soul has separated itself from its blood-and-bone prison and floats somewhere above, looking down upon this moment. There is an absurdity to the detachment, as though you are watching a garish pantomime or overdramatised spectacle designed for naught but sensationalism. It is not real. It is not real.

“It was you,” you hear yourself say as though through rushing water. You wonder if you might faint. “It was you?”

How long have I known her?

You had been but a youth when she first arrived to court, eagerly presenting herself for service to the royal family. Being so much more daring and adventurous and outspoken than you, the fact that you had become so close would seem unlikely to an outsider. At least, you had thought you were close. For her to have taken what little power you possessed over your own body, to steal any number of children that might have been before you had ever had the chance to know them, all at the apparent behest of another—

You swallow frantically, willing yourself not to expel the contents of your stomach.

“You know. Oh, gods. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She weeps, tipping her chin down and kissing your hand. You fight the unwelcome intrusion of the desire to yank yourself from her grip, to slap her or throttle her for her treachery. “I promise I was thinking only of protecting you!”

“By making me think I was barren? By taking my chance to make a true family? By—” You shake your head to try and dispel the ache that has settled itself there like a heavy stone, solid and relentless. Taking a deep, even breath, you force your voice to say the words your mind rails so desperately against. You do not wish to know. “Senna. Senna, look at me. If you want to protect me, you will confess who is behind this.”

You had been right. The truth, pouring from the mouth of your friend-turned-traitor, is a knife to the heart. It is not real, the timorous whisper of the frightened girl you had been resonates noiseless throughout your hollowed form, a plaintive exhale into the air. It is not real.

You spend seconds or minutes or hours staring blankly at the city, huddled like a child upon the bench on your balcony. In the distance, you can hear the screeching protestations of Athfiezar. He had appeared in the capital a day or so after the attack—or so you are told, having been confined to your bed at the insistence of Daemon and Ūlla and thus unable to visit your boy in person—swooping and snarling and making a general fuss as he is so often wont to do when you are upset. If you squint, you think you can see the great black bulk of him atop the Dragonpit.

King’s Landing is abuzz with its usual frenetic activity. Yet, the sights and smells and the waft of coastal wind upon your cheek hardly register.

“I did not want this for you.”

It seems like so long ago that Alicent had helped you prepare for your wedding. She had voiced her concerns about the match even then. Perhaps such a thing ought to have made you even more anxious and fretful than you already had been, but the honesty had been refreshing on a day in which all had made deliberate prevarications as to their true thoughts. A frightful few had been genuinely congratulatory of your being given to your uncle as a wife, and Alicent was certainly chief among the naysayers.

Never would you have expected her capable of this.

Senna had told you everything—of how Alicent had pulled her aside after your wedding night, how she had pressed a batch of the tea into her hands and persuaded her to ensure you imbibed it the following day, how Senna had at first thought it a mere gesture of kindness from a stepmother to her beloved daughter. When she had discovered what the concoction did, she had been torn between duty and her love for you. She could not disobey a directive from her Queen, but at the same time could not abide the thought of harming you. From what you were able to gather, Alicent had discerned this conflict and swayed her into the belief that keeping your womb empty of a babe was the best thing for you.

“You were always terribly quiet after your mother was mentioned, and you avoided talk of childbirth wherever possible,” Senna had said through tears. “I wanted to help.”

A noblewoman receiving shipments from King’s Landing would hardly have been an uncommon occurrence for one stationed on Dragonstone. And so, it had been all too easy for the Queen to procure the tea from Mellos and send it forward to your island home, where you had regularly partaken in its consumption for moons.

You remember having expressed to Senna some wistfulness after spending time with the Princess Sarella Martell and her daughters in Dorne. Evidently, this had been all the motivation needed to finally risk rebellion. The tea had stopped, and Daemon’s seed had finally taken root within you.

Daemon.

What do you do? Do you tell him? Should you tell him? The questions swarm like a thousand stinging bees, loud and painful and frightening in their veracity.

He will kill her—he will murder the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, will wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life from her if he discovers what she has done—

But perhaps Senna is lying. Perhaps she is so overcome by her guilt that she seeks to incriminate another, to control the tale before her victim has opportunity to speak for herself. You do not wish to believe it, but nor can you bear the thought of the woman you had once felt such affection for betraying you in such a manner.

Alicent’s routine remains unchanged despite the summers that have passed since her ascension to your father’s side. Thus, it is with anxious resolve that you finally gather the will to drag yourself from your chambers and step out in search of her.

Ser Lorent Marbrand stands to attention just outside your room, hand springing to the pommel of his blade. “Your Highness?” Peering intently into the room behind you, he—like all others in your service as of late—is vigilant to the extreme. “Do you require assistance?”

“I wish to speak with the Queen,” you say, stepping forward. He moves to block your path. You frown up at him. “Please step aside, Ser.”

“My apologies,” he says, dipping his head, “but Prince Daemon has given me strict instructions to ensure you remain within these chambers until he retu—”

“If my husband discovers that I have elected to ignore his directive to you, then that is firmly my business and my consequence to contend with. I will be meeting with my lady stepmother. So, it is your choice whether I go alone or am accompanied by the Kingsguard assigned to my protection.”

The merest flash of temper, coupled with a deliberately-placed hand on your belly, is enough to make the knight quail. He takes his place at your back as you walk on, traversing the halls of your childhood home toward the Sept.

You reach deep to cling onto all the stubbornness you possess as the murmurs and gasps follow you through the Keep, the courtiers no doubt surprised to see you risk a public appearance. Though your father and his Council had done their best to quash any rumour that might have sprung to life, the news of your attack has spread like wildfire amongst those hungry for gossip in the capital. You are not brave, not in the way Rhaenyra or Daemon are, but you are more than these people see you as. It is time they learn that you can be just as resilient as those survivors of the Doom.

When you stop before the staircase leading to the Sept, steep and winding—and you remember climbing these same steps moons ago, when you were lonely and afraid and knew nothing of love—you contemplate giving up and returning to your chambers. Sighing resignedly, you make use of the overcautious Kingsguard to navigate the treacherous ascent, holding onto his arm to lug your ungainly form up and up. Ser Lorent says nothing, which you appreciate, merely proffers his bulk as resistance so that you may totter your way to the upper landing.

Your heart thuds discordant in your chest as you look upon Alicent, knelt before the effigy of the Mother with her head bent low in prayer. A thousand candles flicker golden in the chamber, giving the dark space an eerie, haunted atmosphere. The light ripples across her hair like molten fire. It is musty here, stifled from the windows being covered in times of disuse. For a place dedicated to the gods, it feels remarkably like how you would imagine the Seven hells. Given the task you have come to fulfil, perhaps the comparison is apt.

She startles bodily at the sound of your footsteps growing ever closer, echoing around the room so loudly it is as though someone far larger than you stamps onward. Rising from her supplications, her shoulders slump minutely when she sees that it is only you.

Alicent utters your name in surprise. “You should be resting after your ordeal!” she says, gliding forward to meet you. Her hand reaches out to take your own—and you notice that she carefully avoids your belly— a look of such matronly kindness on her face that you all at once feel ill again. You can barely feel her touch. “Are you well?”

“The moon tea.” It falls from your lips without conscious choice. You had intended to broach the subject cautiously, to manoeuvre her into admitting the deed under her own duress, but it seems your voice has other plans.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, brow knitting in an affectation of confusion. From the way her fingers tighten hard upon your flesh, a momentary squeeze then release, it is but a performance. She knows of what you speak.

You pull your hand from hers, stepping back when she pursues. Her mouth begins to part, concern forming on her tongue in consummate deception.

“Do not—” you start; pause. Swallow against the bile. Try to take stock of where your heart is, for it has escaped the cavity of your chest and swims untethered through your body, swooping and irregular. “I know about the tea, Alicent. What you asked of Senna. I know everything.”

There. It is said now, and it cannot be taken back. A strange sense of relief co-mingles with the terror.

Though she forces a bewildered laugh, you can see her eyes widen in alarm, shine with the fear she keeps contained with a resolve that is far stronger than even Valyrian steel. Puzzlement crosses her features, a politely baffled smile playing on her lips. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of, darli—”

“Don’t lie to me!”

It hisses from you like a flame, sizzling and incandescent. Your fury is near a tangible thing, an entity that seethes and writhes with a force you had not yet known you were capable of. The reverberation of it thrums in your toes, hangs upon the air and in your ears as though you are still speaking, though the chamber is silent.

Alicent lets out a quick, shaky breath. Few would notice—but your years of isolation have honed your observance to a sharp point, a weapon by any other name. The severe line of her jaw belies her clenching teeth, a woman hanging to the last vestiges of her decorum. “I think you ought to retire to your rooms. You are clearly overcome.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” The hurt, wounded creature inside you rears up, and you must fight the tears that spring up at her continued refusal to concede her wrongdoings. You have cried far too often. It is time for strength. “I have been a good and devoted stepdaughter these many years, Your Grace,” you say. “I have been your daughter’s chief companion. I am raising your son. If you have any affection in your heart for me, you will tell the truth.”

It is calculated, but it works. She wavers, and the veil of hostility drops, leaving something conflicted and unsure. This iteration of your stepmother is new.

She looks away, seeming to turn inward on herself, slow and pondering. “When I was your age, I had already birthed a child and carried another,” she says, the resonance of it like stray whispers on a breeze. Her eyes are glazed as she stares at some point beyond your own fixation, brown turned gold in the firelight. “I remember how… confusing and frightening it was, being so young and having such a burden laid on my shoulders. Mothering the King’s heirs… To be the vessel bringing forth more Targaryens is a weight I did not wish you to bear.”

The soft, sickening pulse of sympathy warms you. Though you love your father, it is true that he has not made for a good husband. Alicent is being kind by evading such an implication, but her marriage has been one of steadfast endurance, a stiff upper lip and staunchly-maintained silence.

Then you truly process what has been said. “To be the vessel… is a weight I did not wish you to bear.” It is an admission of guilt in so many words.

Something inside you breaks.

“That was not your choice to make.” Your mouth is moving and the words come forth, but you feel again as though you have been unclipped from your physical form and left to float elsewhere, distant and divided. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palm and threatening to draw blood. The pain moors you to reality. You clench tighter. “It is my duty as a wife to have my husband’s children. I felt like a failure each time my blood came—because of you.”

“That could not be helped,” she says, the tone so staggeringly at odds with the callousness of such a statement. “You are far too gentle a creature for the likes of Daemon. What he did to your assailant—”

“He protected me,” you snap, incensed. “He loves me.”

The rumours of what had taken place in the early morning hours after your attack have swirled for days. All who have come to your chambers to attend you have given your uncle a wide berth, gaping at him with fearful eyes and muttering to each other under their breath. You know not if he has heard the whispers that seem to be trailing him, though it is equally possible he simply does not care.

“He stabbed the man so many times that they could not tell it was a body at first,” you had caught a pair of maids muttering.

“The Prince gutted him and strung his entrails out of the window as a warning—”

“He cut the wretch’s head off and drank the blood that spilled—”

“He broke every bone in his body and left him there for his family to find—”

No doubt the brutality that had occurred in that establishment—an inn or a tavern or a brothel, each report differing in its account—had been truly obscene. Daemon is a vicious man, needing no provocation to inflict himself upon others. You cannot imagine the carnage that had ensued after his wife and babes had been terrorised. Nor do you wish to ask, truthfully.

You had felt an iota of guilt for being so accepting of his brand of justice, being so loath of it; you recall the time you told him how you “disliked violence”, how you would “not allow unnecessary savagery” should you consent to marry him. It did not last very long in light of the circumstances.

He loves you, and for that love he had put to the sword those who sought to take your life.

Alicent scoffs, snapping you back to the present. “He was supposed to tire of you, to put you aside and seek out whatever else he might wish. Perhaps then you would be free to marry a man worthy of yo—”

“So you wished for me to be disgraced? The laughingstock of the Realm?” You laugh, icy and piercing. “You desired my unhappiness. Somehow, you have convinced yourself that doing so means you care for me above all others.”

The Queen retreats behind her mask of wintry cordiality, expression closing off entirely. Her mouth opens and closes, a response gathering but not quite fully-formed.

There is no turning back from this. You think that you will never see her look upon you with warmth again.

“It is he who has corrupted you so,” she says finally, disdainful and disappointed in equal measure. “Never would you have spoken to me in such a manner before he sunk his claws into you.”

“You do not get to behave as though I have wronged you. You act as though my uncle is some sort of monster, when it is you who has violated my body and my freedom.”

“Violated?” She sneers down her nose at you. “I would think that feat should be recognised as another’s. ‘Tis a shame to see you so ruined, stepdaughter. I hope being Daemon’s whore is worth it.”

The slap rings sudden and strident, your palm burning. You do not remember striding forward. Alicent shields her cheek with a hand, looking upon you with indignant trepidation. An eye for an eye, a strike for a strike. Your scarred arm tingles at your side, the line where the knife had carved your skin open prickling with a memory that seems distant now.

“I would rather be his whore than your saint,” you hiss, squeezing and releasing your fist to work away the buzzing sensation.

Silence pervades following your assertion, the last notes suspended soundless throughout the room. The statue of the Mother seems to stare down at you both, the lit altar casting her countenance into something eerie and judgemental. That the flames dance still upon their waxen mounts is surprising. ‘Tis a reminder that the world remains unchanged despite your feeling that the ground has shifted beneath your feet, shaking and unsteady.

“I will tell Papa of what you have done,” you say, preparing to depart. You have earned your confession, but there is no victory to be won here. “Return to your devotions, my Queen. Pray that he will be lenient.”

“Tell him? Whatever will you tell him?” she asks loftily, arrogantly, her brow arching. “You have no proof.”

You frown. “I have Senna—”

“The daughter of a minor noble house, or the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? Who is the King likely to believe?” Alicent smiles unkindly, a mockery of the geniality she had once shown you.

She has a point. You cannot stand it. The moment the words had left your mouth, you had known your father will do nothing with such information. So determined is he to prevent conflict in his household that he will turn a blind eye to most anything to avoid the uncomfortable truth—that House Targaryen is breaking at the seams, each day bringing a new tear upon the fabric of what you imagine must have once been a true family.

It is too much. There is nothing more to say. The cards have been dealt, but the game is unwinnable. You are so, so tired. What is left for you in the capital? You want to go home.

I want Daemon and Athfiezar and Daeron and my babes. I want to go home.

“May the gods have mercy upon your soul for what you have done,” you say. “For my part—I hope you burn in the Seven hells.”

You leave her standing there alone in the Sept, the last refuge of a woman who has maimed all the love and affection that might have lingered from her girlhood years. Her effigies and her prayers and her piety are all that is left to her now. They will consume her from the inside out, scorch her to a shell of the smiling, tender-hearted youth you remember from so long ago.

Let her choke upon her airs of godliness, you think. One day, she will pay the price for her crimes.

You hope you are there to see it.

Read it on AO3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44058132/chapters/114901333

Taglist (😭 thank you!):

Now in the comments!

[raplinesmoon]

BTS as different dental specialties ✨

Ok the medical specialities thing was fun… but it was lacking my expert opinion and overall excitement for dentistry, so I will now present to you BTS as the different dental specialties because this is in fact what I’ve been waiting for my whole life

Disclaimer: I’m not hating on any of these specialities, I interact with all of these people every day and do nothing but learn from them 🥰 dentists are amazing say it with me now. I’m also not dragging any of the members, I love them all too much to do that 💜

Periodontics (Kim Seokjin)

Implants are always a hot topic in dentistry. Guess who’s also hot? Kim Seokjin. Periodontists are specialists in the bone, gums, and other structures that support the teeth. They focus on the prevention and treatment of gum disease, which can lead to bone loss. Can come off as slightly haughty and arrogant, but really just sweethearts inside who want to teach patients how to take care of their mouth. I think Seokjin would be perfect for this because he’s incredibly smart and also he’s Bangtan’s support pillar, just like the gums and bone support teeth teehee. Also always bickering with OMFS (Jungkook) about who should be placing implants.

Endodontics (Min Yoongi)

Music is Min Yoongi’s entire life just like the bottom of your teeth are endodontist’s. High trained and specialized in one thing and one thing only and that is everything to do with the roots, or the bottom portion of your teeth you can’t see, and the pulp, or the inner blood and nerve supply of your teeth. Literally just do the same thing most of the time aka root canals, with some incisions and drainage and microsurgery on the side. Are fine with practicing their highly perfected craft in their little bubble because guess what, everyone turns to them when it’s time to solve a difficult case. Just like how Bangtan leans on Yoongi for a large majority of music production and lyrics. Can come off as unapproachable, but have a wealth of knowledge to share once you probe. Also like to play classical music when they’re working hahaha

General Dentistry (Jung Hoseok)

General dentists run the gambit in terms of what they have to be experienced and knowledgeable in because patients always come to them first for seeking care. Who better to manage them than the Golden Hyung? Hoseok can do it all, and if he can’t, he’ll learn. Because they’re often the ones doing many procedures for a patient or the ones that are the point of reference, they need to have great interpersonal skills. Hoseok’s sunshine personality fits the jobs description perfectly. Also he just has the prettiest teeth out of all of them. I had to say it, but patients will look at his infectious smile and be like “yes, pls, sign me up, where can I get that?”. Often highballin’ it up on the ‘gram, drinking champagne in their airplanes (this is a drag on dental influencers lol)

Orthodontics (Kim Namjoon)

For the sake of world peace, it’s better that Namjoon doesn’t handle sharp objects near a patient’s mouth. No worries, that’s what orthodontics is for! The majority of this specialty is focused on treatment planning how to best address the malpositioning of teeth and jaws. It’s more hands off in terms of actual procedures, and more about using your brain to visualize a solution to a difficult problem. And guess who has the biggest, most sexiest brain of them all? Namjoon, that’s who. Orthodontists are massive team players, often working with general dentists, periodontists, and oral surgeons to coordinate a patient’s treatment so that their jaw and teeth correction is optimized. All good things when it comes to thinking of a place for our amazing leader

Prosthodontics (Park Jimin)

You know who’s living art? Park Jimin. You know what’s dental art? Prosthodontics. Prosthodontics focuses on the artificial replacement of teeth and oral structures, or dental prostheses. Jimin’s like really pretty, and I bet he could design some really pretty teeth for a patient who doesn’t have them. Works hand in hand with perio to restore implants (Jinmin my underrated duo). Not only are they involved in making things look pretty, but also in bringing back the natural harmony that exists in between the teeth and structures in the mouth to restore function. They can also help patients who’ve had limited or missing oral function since birth or due to trauma from an accident or the effects of a disease. This whole concept of helping these patients who are totally vulnerable and insecure reminds me of Jimin and his incredible amount of empathy. He’s a total sweetheart, and he’s incredibly aesthetically inclined bc hello have you seen his face and his dancing?

Pediatrics (Kim Taehyung)

Tae loves kids, kids love Tae. It’s a match made in Heaven. Treating kids in general is tough, but treating kids in a dental chair? Requires nerves of steel, let me tell you. I think back to that moment where Taehyung didn’t even flinch behind the glass, and I know he’d have the mental toughness to deal with a screaming child and a screaming parent. Pediatric dentists do a lot from preventative, to cavities, to ortho, to anesthesia, to surgery. They do it all on these tiny little mouths that are similar, yet so different from adult ones. Along with the resilience, you need to have a deep seated love for children and know how to appeal to them, and Taehyung has that. All the cute Bangtan moments with children have mostly been with him because kids just love this guy. They know behind all those vibe checks and the savagery is a soft teddy bear of a man who’ll smile, make funny faces, and give them a hug and let them know they did a good job.

Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery (Jeon Jungkook)

HIMBOS. BROS. MUSCLE PIGS. WISDOM TEETH. Yes, I’m describing Jeon JungKook but I’m also describing the heavily male dominated presence in Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery. Oral surgeons use surgical and adjunctive techniques to deal with defects and injuries in both the hard and soft tissues of the jaws, and sometimes the face. Times are a changin’, but JungKook also has lots of the qualities of being a fine surgeon. Not only is he smart, and able to pick things up on the fly, he’s just like an overachiever. You have to be to be an oral surgeon imo, it’s just in their blood. Plus you gotta be strong as heck, ok? You may have to brace patients or apply lots of force in order to move and manipulate tissues, yet also possess fine motor control. All those hours in the gym will do Jungkook good. Also requires lots of strength and stamina because you’re on your feet literally all day with your back hunched over (omg I got back pain just from typing this). Will bicker with Perio (Jin) that he should be allowed to place implants, but Jin doesn’t want to give him that responsibility lmaooo

This was absolutely so fun, and I think in the end, everyone got matched up really well! Now watch me incorporate one or all of these into a fic one day hehe ✨

[oshbluepacific]

Author-nim, I'm the anon who requested for the Jackson one-shot. I'm so sorry because it triggered you. I'll be more sensitive in the future. Again, I'm really sorry.

OMG its actually okay sweetie!! i actually have to thank you, because its somehow a therapy for me to write something about this. i was planning on writing about it but— i didn’t know where to start actually. i was hesitant to write it at first, but as time went on, i healed from it and it healed even more when i write about it. so, i thank you for making me write something that actually heals me as well💙🥺 im being completely honest with you! so don’t you feel guilty okay?🥰 im still healing but, this one is a huge part of my healing🥰🥰

a quick side note, im sorry i haven’t been active as well because i’m going through healing process(as i explained) and trying to find my happiness, vibes to write again and finding myself and inner peace again. and i want to thank all of you, who left a message in the inbox saying nothing but nice things about my stories (although it might be filled with typos lmao) and it made me realize they you guys are the reason for me to keep going, and i just love to create t stories! so, thank you so much you guys!!💙💙 and don’t worry, i see you guys demanding Chanyeol’s pt II and other request are coming soon!! i hope you all are excited, but i can’t really be sure when i’ll be posting it TEEHEE sorry😞 hope you’re all are having/had a wonderful day!! and i’ll see you on my next post!! love you my bluewaves!!💙💙 (since you guys are calling me author-nim, im going to call yoy guys blue waves, how’s that sound?)

[thewanderingbreath]

(archived thoughts) writing this on 15 june, 2022 (but i'm scheduling this in advance):

hello you. i'm not sure how our relationship would've transpired and/or ended by now. it's never easy to leave a place of comfort, love and safety. but i made my reasons clear; if you were in my spot, it'd be heartbreaking to stay too.

don't think i ever told you this, but the night you told me you were arranged for marriage in a few years, i felt my heart sink so low. (i know that sinking feeling, e.g. from rejection/finding out my crush likes someone else etc.) i believe that was the point i couldn't understand and unsee. but i had no right to judge or make decisions. i suppose it seared a deep wound in me, knowing the person i saw myself building a life with was called to live another one with someone he should eventually love more. and rightfully so, considering how you were saved from the things you went through (but you never actually told me what they were.)

call it inferiority, fear or maybe just regret that i hadn't been that lucky one you were meant for. i still feel upset that you never told me your story; as i always said, it's not that i didn't want to/have the guts to hear it. i was there, i just wish you had shared that side of you.

i suppose too, that the emotional rollercoasters i had were caused by this knowledge. it took one church visit (lol) for me to realise the manifestation of love here: to will the good of the other. as i've said many times, if your "good" is sticking to this path and having less inner conflict, then loving you with all my heart is to truly leave you to be at peace. till now, if my mind wanders, the fear of you forgetting me and loving your partner exponentially is still there. it should be the case, i just haven't come to terms with it.

i'll think of you wherever i go and in whatever i do. you don't actually need to fear anything, though. my self-esteem has always been low and i never believed i'd meet anyone new/begin loving somebody new/be loved again. essentially, the only "worry" you may have is that i'd adopt a friendly ginger cat. lucky you then, since you can continue reminiscing and wishing it was me that was by your side as you continue walking through life. i wouldn't say the same for me, i've much more to fear.

i could simply reach out and drop you a message about where i am, my school outfit (heh always our inside joke) or the hectic teacher life that you had been a respite from. but i won't; the cycle won't stop and i'd eventually just be hurting myself again, again and again. i'll still wear my Sunday best, should i go to Little Part One/Cider Pit again. i'll remember that we shared our time there, or even the moments we ran across empty roads hand in hand.

funnily, sometimes i still doubt if what you felt was real. i wonder if you would've dropped a surprise message for me, or dedicate a post just because i was running through your mind too much. feeling unworthy of love has its consequences, this is one of mine. i guess it's good too, since it would've saved you the trouble.

i love you. i love you so much, all i want is to be in your arms right now. really. to be warm and safe. i fucking love you so much, my squishy boo (cringey ass pet names... i don't care).

i imagined making love to you the other night... hehe. it was warm, safe, so intimate. like we knew each other in a past life, our bodies being together because that's how they should be. also, a fair bit of noise teehee 🦊

wherever you are out there, no matter the time that's passed, i hope you remember me. don't you ever forget, don't you dare. when you read this, know you're in my mind. always. i want to go back to Little Part One, on the day we said we'd meet again (15 Sept, just not in the morning because no morning drinking lol).

i'm typing this in canada. so far away, and that's what it's gonna be like when we part. why couldn't you be in my future? stay with me. don't go. come back to me. promise you'll find your way back to me, okay? a part of me will always be waiting for you. don't tell me not to wait...

如果有下次，我会再爱一次。(i.e. if i could love again, i will. it will be you. always). i don't care how much shit you've been through. i want to be here with you, there's nowhere else i want to be than with you.

if i could break you free from everything that's holding you back, i will. with whatever i have i'll bring you away with me. we won't have to be apart. never again.

i love you, i will never tire of telling you this. do you remember what i told you? when you are in a dark place, i will tell you even more that i love you and i'm here. i'm always here, my love. if you forget everything, remember me. i.. love you so much axel. as though my poofy chest is gonna explode with all this love.

i love you baby. be well. 🧡🦊

[readmylip-s]

thank u, next.

so here we are, a week left until we usher in the new year. 2018 is probably one of the more major roller coaster rides i’ve had for a while now. i’ve had quite a few accomplishments and fcos the usual emotional-down-turns. i’ve also had tons of blessings and a lot of lessons learnt through the year. i’ve always been told to count my blessings so thats exactly what i’ve been doing. 

if you know me you’d know i prefer keeping my social circle small, though it may not seem that way on socmed. but thats the thing, thats social media. i dont revolve my life around social media. i think i’ve said this way too many times - what you see is only what i choose to show. on a personal level, i rlly prefer the company of a small group of people, even if it means just hanging out with one or two friends. i think 2018 is also the year i’ve had one of the most me-time. i enjoy going to the movies alone, having the entire couple seat to myself, i love sitting at starbucks sipping on GT Cream or seasonal drinks and occasionally with a plate of beef pie. teehee.

i’ll prolly share some positive and not so positive highlights of my year, as well as all the blessings i’ve had through the year. 

this year, just like the past 2 years, i landed myself in the hospital. 

pretty much because of the same old issues i’ve been having. was put on oxygen supply for quite a fair bit, had multiple needles poked through my skin, and multiple bags of glucose. it was a crazy period because it was during the fasting month and prior to the hospitalization, i was fasting. and even when i was in the a&e and eventually warded, i was still not allowed to have food. i was cranky, i was upset and best of all? i felt like i was gna faint. i was due for surgery, again, the next day so i couldnt eat. but i was a rebel. during the night, i secretly chewed on Mr Bean pancake that my brother got me when he accompanied me for a bit. so glad i didnt get caught hehe. fast forward, post surgery, i ate like a monster. the little brother was supposed to fly off the next morn for his school trip but he still came to visit me during the night. he even brought me bubble tea?! i was discharged after what seemed to be a torturous 3d2n staycation at NTFGH. 

2018 was the year i get to tick off certain things in my bucket list. i finally, finally did something i really wanted to do.

i got myself a septum piercing. its a pretty unorthodox thing considering how i dress and all but hey, a girl can dream, and make her own dreams come true. it was on a very random sunday that i decided to get it. but i’m kinda glad i did. i guess all the needles from all my hospitalizations helped me coped with the needle that poked through my septum. pretty sure this is only gna be a phase so all you hateful people, shut your trap. hahahaha. :)

also this year, i finally got to climb a mountain again. 

it was DFOALC’s first overseas staff expedition. (no, i wouldnt consider pulau ubin ‘overseas’, haha) it was the toughest climb i’ve had of all the 4 climbs i’ve done before. in summary - my injury acted up during the ascend and descend, and i also almost lost my life to Gunung Berembun. i survived, alhamdulillah. i just needed my cast when i got back to Singapore. phew. 

moving on to counting my blessings, i call them my constants. 

#4. 

its no surprise that AY is one of the greatest blessing i never knew i needed in my life. i never know where to begin when it comes to how beyond blessed i am for his presence in my life. its still so surreal how we were friends for the longest time and now we’re planning for a future together?! WHAT. hold on, time! 

it is rlly crazy how this whole love thing works. but whatever that is, it has brought so much joy in my life. and AY has made me the happiest kid ever since we began our journey in chasing NZ! thank you, AY. you’re so bloody amazing, and i can’t wait to spend forever and a day with you. dont know what i did to deserve you but i’m glad i did. x

#3.

my bestfriend; nurul. we went through our poly days together, and even when we were separated in to different classes, we still made it a point to have lunch together atleast once or twice a week. clingsterzx much. we even applied for the same job together and among our group of friends who applied, only the two of us got it. is this fate or what?! thank you sissy for being there, always. and for always being the one with the sneaky pick me ups, and listening to all my sob stories. but please dont degil when i try to help you find a boyfriend??? but if you insist then i hope you find your oppa lah okay. we have had our differences and our bumpy ride but what doesnt kill us makes us stronger, yes? so much love for you, sissy! x

my other bestfriend, zulh.jsmn. this photo is the exact representation of our bestfriendship. he annoys the living shit outta me but i have got no choice but to accept him the way he is. unlike nurul, this one is lowkey always asking me to find him a girlfriend. smh. your day will come soon, buddy. i’m grateful for all the times you made sure i was always in check. also for being my guitarist bcus i’m that much of a loser who cant play the guitar, and most importantly for the letter you wrote to me 5 years ago for me to look back to when i feel like the worst person on earth. oh and all the times you traveled down for me just to send food that you cooked so i’d have food to break my fast with during my internship?!?! you always have the most interesting gifts for me whether its for my birthday or just a random gift. the box of clouds from genting, i still have it! appearing in Chicago with SD and a guitar to sing me a birthday song at midnight for my 19th birthday. and the lantern we flew for my 20th birthday in Tennessee at midnight? i choose to believe its still flying somewhere in the sky! thank you, buddy for everything. smell ya in futura tomato saucin, buddiok! #OHOS #GBT #NZV lives! 

#2

my sister, SD. oh sisthur, the resemblance we have is uncanny. it is no wonder people automatically recognize us as sisters through photos. our taxi stand incident will always be etched at the back of my mind. it is one i would never forget bcus it is that one short incident that led us to how close we are up till today. though things cannot be exactly how i imagined it to be, i’m still glad i have you almost entirely. here’s to more sisthur hangz! sayang sawah! x

#1

and of course, my number one constant, my only older brother. you suck and you’re such an idiot but you care for me in ways no other human would. no one, and i rlly mean no one, can ever take your place in my life, for blood is thicker than water. i promise, to always make you proud of me. and i too promise that when the day comes that you shed your tears for me, i’d cheer you up and promise to always be the same baby sister you grew up with. thank you, for calling me your bestfriend, and for loving me with all your life. growing up together hasnt been an easy feat but i’m glad our rivalry only lasted through the times we wore the same sneakers, shared the same room and have the same mp3 player. you rlly suck sometimes but i love you every other day. x 

/wow so much of a summary and a wrap up, nurfa./

but yep, these pretty much sums up my 2018. fcos there were pockets of crazy shit that happened through the year; from suffering cuts and bruises bcus of anxiety attacks, to losing my sanity, to falling out of a relationship, to my injury and to losing friends i thought who would be around a little longer. 

some other things i ticked off my bucket list was meeting Haqim Mokhtar and watch him perform live, singing on stage (i got to sing with sufian suhaimi!), being present for TLV gigs, and fcos, completing my desired Nike Collection hehehehe.

i am very much thankful to God for allowing me to unlearn and relearn whatever i needed to. i dont really do resolutions but in 2018, my goal was just to seek happiness. i’m glad to say that i have achieved my goal of being happy. and in 2019, i pray for constant happiness with the people i love most, and for inner peace. may 2019 be the year i break the chain of having to be hospitalized, and may 2019 also be the year of recovery. 

x, nvrfa 

1623 | 23rd December 2018