#the world gives me [the power of being so fond of someone] and then it hits me with a truck

[sickgraymeat]

Just found out (should have known) that if I needed to go on disability (short term or otherwise) now or after my job ends I would not qualify bc I’m being paid under the table. Knew this abt unemployment but 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 everyone please advocate for yourselves and inform yourselves in the workplace and don’t accept illegal pay if you can help it. Not having to file taxes is not a benefit. You’re being screwed over.

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children… to whom you are the greatest defender. (Part II)

Warnings: this time we have drama, angst, but fluffy like usual. Maybe some smut. Long post.

@dracaryxzs tagging you once more, hope you like it!

***

• The Last Feast.

You are present at your father’s last dinner. Despite detesting the circumstances, you put an effort at your husband’s request, as much as either of you are uncomfortable with this growing awkwardness—thanks to your father’s preference over Rhaenyra and your mother’s likewise neglect.

Not to mention the Strong bastards who tease your lover endlessly—as well as your younger brother Aemond. You recollect how, when you were ten and two summers, you hit Jacaerys in his face and kicked Lucerys’ belly after their bullying over your family.

“You have no idea whom you are messing with, boys. I may be kind, I may be sweet, but I am as dragon as either of you are. If yet one may say so… considering there’s nothing Valyrian on you.”

Words—and deeds—that earned Aemond’s respect and Aegon’s admiration. Today you wish you had better control of your temper, perhaps being more diplomatic, but you’d still stand up for Aegon nonetheless.

“You look thoughtful today”, you hear Aegon telling you. “I think it’s too early for you to join this bloody dinner. You have been just churched, Y/N.”

You smile, letting memories of a distant past fade when Aegon comes at you, holding you from behind as your ladies have just finished dressing you and brushing your long silver locks.

Today you opt to wear your two-sided braided hair and a long, silk green gown which may reinforce your curves. His hands are precisely there as his eyes stare at your reflection in the mirror of your privy quarters.

About a month and half ago, you gave birth to your fifth child—and you’re already the mother of Aegon, Alysanne, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera—whom you named Baelor after your grandsire. To the surprise of many, you are not only as fertile as your sisters and mother, but just as strong.

Even though ladies are strongly recommended to avoid events after this period of churching—where they go through the process of getting cleansed carnally and spiritually under the Septs of the Seven—you care very little about such rules, specially when your sire father is about to depart this world—something that gives you mixed feelings.

“I am as good as before”, you turn at him with a smile on your lips. “I may look tired but that is because I had to wake early to feed Baelor.”

Aegon chuckles lightly.

“…all the whilst our dearest Jaehaera was found sneaking under our blanket.”

You laugh heartily.

“She seems to take after you, I’m afraid. Are you ready to put some reins in her, Aegon?”

To which your husband scoffs.

“Please. I’m here to protect and spoil my princesses. Yourself included, dear”, and saying so, he presses a kiss on your cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You spot a glint of mischief behind his eyes; it already makes your intimate parts ache for him. You gently put two fingers over his lips and bite yours when he takes to his mouth, sucking each without parting gazes.

“Mm. Someone’s not been churched enough, I see.”, Aegon teases you, now going to press you against the wall.

“My darling, you best not ruin me for the feast. We are awaited”, you try your best not to give him, but what power do you have when he, taller than you, towers over you and starts to lift the skirt of your gowns…

“Oh there you are!”, you and Aegon almost jump out the moment you hear Helaena’s voice. “Alysanne and I were looking for you!”

Suddenly the seven year old princess with short curly hair and eyes that resemble her parents shows up dressing a gown that is very similar to her aunt’s.

“Papa! Mama! Aunt Laena did my dress, look! I’ve been looking for you in order to show you it!”, she steps up proudly under Helaena’s fond gaze and clapping hands.

You are quickly straightening yourself when Aegon promptly goes to one knee to match his daughter’s height and speak as if nothing was going on before their… sudden arrival.

“You look gorgeous as ever, Alys! Beautiful like your mama!”, he beams at her, before lifting his daughter and holding her tight.

“Weeee!”, Alysanne giggles. “You can still carry me! Look, aunt Laena! Look how strong my papa is!”

Helaena is all smiles at the scene. You join her side, adding a teasing comment:

“It appears your father is still strong, uh? Here I was thinking otherwise.”

Aegon rolls eyes at you, but Alysanne points out her tongue in turn.

“There is none as strong as my papa!”

“That’s my girl!”, he kisses her cheek, spinning her around a little more before downing her at last. “Now, you best go to see your grandsire. Where is Egg? And your twins?”

“Egg has joined Maekar”, she tells him in reference to Helaena and Aemond’s oldest son. “They are insufferable.”

Helaena chuckles lightly.

“Best mates, as they should.”

“As for me… at least I have Rhae to be friends with”, and that being said the princess runs after her cousin, Maekar’s own twin, both born in the same year as Alysanne’s.

“You should be more careful, leaving the door unlocked”, says Helaena, amused.

And she turns before either of you could form a proper answer. You sigh and as you link your arm with Aegon’s, you say:

“She is not wrong, you know.”

“Where can I be faulted if these kids are growing too fast these days”, grumbles Aegon.

You poke his side playfully.

“The joke’s on you for being careless and leaving the door open.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing another kiss on your cheeks before going to the king’s privy quarters where a family reunion is expected.

*

You are sitting opposite Aemond and Helaena, next to your husband on the left side of the table. You are making sure your children are behaving well at the same time instructing your maids what to do in case they get…bored.

Whilst you do so, Aegon avoids Rhaenyra’s gaze, who sits on the opposite right of the table, with her own offspring. Trying to sweep away the taste of bad blood, he rather focuses in his own children.

The sight of his growing family brings a relief to his wounded pride. For years, longing for something his father and mother lacked in providing, seems to have been filled with your love and these of his children.

When seeing how Egg is looking for him and, once finding his gaze, smiles in search of approval, Aegon forgets his haunted memoirs and gives his boy and heir a positive sign with his thumb up.

It’s how happy Egg is that makes Aegon believe that he’s overcome his broken heart. By how proud his son looks just after being acknowledged by Aegon makes him think that… had only his father done that for years, one small gesture such as this, well… wouldn’t things be different?

Looking now at his daughter, Princess Alysanne. She’s every inch his own and Aegon takes pride in his eldest girl. She is sweet tempered and talkative—oh doesn’t she like to talk? Aegon observes how she and her cousin, Princess Rhaella, engage in some serious conversation which the prince supposes to be about dragons.

He does approve how they are bonding. And when his gaze meets Aemond’s, the eldest of the two realizes this is a better out coming than both of them expected—considering their upbringing. Aemond, of his part, gives a small smirk, considering he is proud too of his children.

And then… there are the twins, of course, and the newly born son who’s not present. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys are not gloomy nor moody, simply the mirror of Aegon’s domestic joy.

This picture of the family he never had that is now his new reality makes him at peace with his parents… even if at times, such as now, he is remembered of everything he didn’t have.

“I would like to make a toast”, says King Viserys, and his voice drags Aegon out of his particular bliss. “My family reunited here. Everyone together as it should, the perfect reflection of how peaceful our realm is.”

All eyes are set on the dying king. The evidence is clear and you cannot help yourself wondering… how all would’ve been different had he acknowledged Aegon’s inheritance. When casting a quick look at your sister Rhaenyra, you realize that she’s never wanted the high prize.

“Mama”, your daughter’s hand pushing your sleeve draws you out of your thoughts.

“What is it, sweetling?”

“Will the dragons die?”

You furrow your eyebrows, ignoring Helaena’s curious gaze at the sight of you two.

“Why would you ask this question?”

Alysanne hesitates, suddenly realizing this may not be the most proper place to speak. But since the music is now playing and the babbling is loud, you encourage her to speak her mind.

“I… I had a nightmare again.”

“With what, my dove? You will claim your dragon, eventually”, you assure her.

“I know I will, but this isn’t it. I am talking about a red dragon being smashed. It looked terrifying to watch.”

Back then, you do not comprehend what red dragon is your daughter speaking of: neither you nor Aegon’s dragons possess red scales. Before you could find a way to assure your daughter this is nothing but a bad dream, a sound takes you out of your thoughts.

“I’d like to make a toast for these… Strong boys.”

Your eyes go wide at Aemond’s bluntness. Helaena is too surprised, and you two share a meaningful, confident look. Both of you take your children out of the dining table, sensing trouble is coming out.

Later, you come back to rush Aegon out of this mess.

“I was handling just well”, he tells you prideful.

Indeed, to your relief he bears no black eye. But by how Rhaenyra looks angry, you know enmity is official.

You hold her stare as you stroke your husband’s face.

“I know. Who could beat you, anyway? You did nothing wrong.”

And by saying that, you kiss his lips, finding home in his embrace.

***

• A Storm Of Iron Blades.

Later that night, there is nothing to occupy your thoughts. With your children asleep and your churching period finally at end, you gladly resume your activities.

And your favorite one is riding your husband, of course.

“Aegon!”, you cry out his name, searching for support against the wall as his hands hold firmly your hips whilst his tongue does wonderfulness in you. “Oh Gods!”

And you move your hips gracefully, smirking at the sight of subduing such a prideful prince, yours to be king.

You arch your back, smirking wide as he slaps your hips, hair now a complete puddle of mess as you come undone.

Your husband drinks every juice you give him, such is his thirst. But domineering he still is as, restless like usual, he flips positions and is now thrusting right into you.

“We are conceiving again”, he whispers against your hot skin, turning you around so your face can be seen. Aegon wraps a hand around your neck all the whilst he pulls your hair the way you like him to.

“One more child?”, you moan loud, burying your nails against his skin as you two move as one.

“I told you we are making this a grand family”, he thrusts harder, pleased to earn a louder moan this time.

Matching his hips with yours, Aegon knows you delegate him control. Every time you come after churching, you settle under him, legs firmly tied around his waist… and when you try to swap, oh snap! He got you there.

“Kiss me!”, you demand him. “Now!”

Aegon gladly complies to your commands, pursuing your lips desperately so. In a crazy demonstration of how your connection works, both of you reach climax at the same time.

As he lies his head at your left breast, Aegon strokes your cheek and says:

“Thank you.”

“What for?”, you ask him surprised.

“For giving me what I was refused: a family.”

You peck his lips, cuddling onto him.

“I love you, Aegon. I hope you know I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.”

As he looks up at him, Aegon knows the veracity of these words. And when he kisses you, the prince fears for them at the same.

*

Little Egg comes early next morning to get his father’s attention. You realize they are very close, which makes your chest swell with pride. It’s you who welcome your eldest when door opens and you are still breastfeeding baby Baelor, despite Aegon’s protest that you should be doing so in your bed not on your feet.

“Darling! What is it?”, you smile brightly at him.

Despite the nickname, Little Egg is hardly little now. He’s grown quite fast for his age and will most likely to be very tall in his early adulthood. His hair is long now, emulating his father’s.

“I want to see my lord father.”

Thankfully, Aegon has just left his privy quarters when his son’s voice reach him.

“What’s lord for? Father is just fine”, Aegon pulls a grimace at the formality.

Little Egg chuckles.

“My lady grandmother told me I should be mindful of my manners.”

“Who cares about what that old woman says?”, and here he ignores your weak protest at how your mother is addressed. “Come here, won’t you hug me properly?”

As you sit to finish feeding your baby and hold him close, you delight at the scene of Little Egg running to the arms of Aegon, chuckling as he is spinning around before putting down.

“A egg has hatched”, says your brave little boy. “I reclaimed it as mine.”

“Well, of course it’s yours!”, says Aegon, admired. “We put that egg with you since you were born. You slept it tightly with it!”

Little Egg blushes at his remark.

“Well, either way, it’s born! And it’s mine!”

“Fantastic! What’s the name of it?”

“I thought about something to honor your dragon, papa, since it’s golden with details in silver. So I figured to call it Goldenfyre.”

You swear you thought Aegon’d burst into tears. You too think some tears come from your eyes, aware of how important this is to your husband. A moment once stolen in his childhood, but somehow regained to compose his son’s.

“Will you show me Goldenfyre?”, Aegon smiles proudly at his boy.

“Yes”, Little Egg smiles timidly, but you spot pride in his eyes. “And after that I want to show mummy too.”

“Of course my dearest”, you tell him just as delighted.

“I also saved an egg to Baelor”, he tells you proudly when coming at you to earn a motherly kiss you give him.

“That’s my boy. Remember, this is your brother whom you shall always protect.”

Very serious, says your small version of your husband:

“I will not fail in this duty, mother.”

“I know you won’t.”

As you look up, finding Aegon as tearful as you, contentment finds solace in this new home, built over a wrecked one. Perhaps the Gods could be good, after all.

*

Not everything is about family, however. You need a moment to fly with Dreamfyre again and are about to do so with your youngster one when the Queen comes after you with a grave expression.

“Where is Aegon?”

“Greetings to you too, mother”, you do not mind the disdain in your tongue. “He’s with his son. Something you could have done too if you had the time.”

Alicent looks at her daughter as if she somehow wished you were like Helaena: quieter and serene, even though you are more than aware how your younger sister is also estranged with the Queen. Not that you have been very wayward, you have rarely been at her presence… is all.

Old wounds takes time to heal.

“This is not the moment nor the time to point out my wrongs. I know you will not understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family, but I need you to summon Aegon.”

“Can you not do this yourself since you have sacrificed so much for us?”

Alicent sighs. At times she finds hard to look at you, and you know that is because you resemble Aegon.

“Your father…”

Now she has your attention. You think wise to give your maid your Baelor.

“Yes?”

What you find in your mother’s eyes knocks your pride down.

“Your father has… departed this world.”

In other words, you know you should be prepared to war. And how strange it is when for the first time in a long while you and the queen find comfort in each other with a hesitant embrace.

Outside, you could hear the lightenings.

***

You are flying Dreamfyre when clouds start to rumble. Your dragon turns her head to give you a look as if she’s sensing your intimate thoughts. Amidst the announce of a storm sun is starting to rise in the horizon and you should go back… but you are reluctant. So she knows where to take you.

To your surprise, though, you find him there. In the very spot where everything began. Has it almost been ten years since you and him professed feelings for each other? It certainly doesn’t feel like it.

“Egg”, you call him affectionately. “I wasn’t expecting to seeing you here.”

Aegon looks distraught, a view that much plagues your heart. You take his side and hold his hand.

“War is coming. She’s not going to accept I am our father’s heir.”

“We can do this”, you tell him firmly. To his surprise, you are determined to go to the end of it. “I know my place, but you must know yours. Father has determined as tradition has that a male heir is to sit upon the iron throne. This happens to be you.”

“I wasn’t prepared for the role”, Aegon admits in one of his rare displays of weakness.

You cup his cheeks with both hands and make him look at you. Aegon finds comfort in you, solace for his insecurities, which you know so well. What’s more is that you never left him.

You stayed.

“Circumstances are better teachers than theories. I can help you with that, though. I am not made of silk or dragon blood”, you flash him a side smirk. “I have a brain sharp as sword.”

“Y/N… I never underestimated you. We…”, and here he whispers. “We both know you’d be a better queen.”

You chuckle quietly, rubbing your nose against his. Rain starts to fall but you both seem immune to it.

“Shush. I know my place, husband. You will be a great king.”

As if convinced by your arguments, Aegon rests his head against your shoulder, and you rock him gently, stroking his silver locks.

“We are doing this for our children.” He tells you firmly, regaining his composure.

Hands intertwined, eyes locked. Mutual communication.

“My Visenya”, Aegon smiles, besotted.

“My Conqueror”, you beam at him.

And all is sealed with a kiss.

*

The green council is gathering and in the meantime you spend your time with your sister and your children.

“We must be wary”, whispers Helaena to you.

You cast her a knowing look.

“Can we prevent it to happen?”

“I don’t think so. The crown has a price to pay.”

“I shall do it so”, you tell her firmly.

And then the conversation breaks suddenly.

“Mama”, says Alysanne, running to her side. “Will papa get burnt?”

Never before you detested these dreams your daughter and sister share.

“No”, you assure her firmly, giving a side glance at Helaena, who’s holding her own children protectively. “Nothing bad will happen to him. This I vow.”

To the rest of the day, despite not contenting yourself with embroidery, you settle with the role of mother just fine. But as rain gets heavier outside, you know another will come eventually: that of a wife ready to fight for her husband.

Later that evening, as you watch the children playing with their father and you rock young Baelor against your chest, Aegon tells you the plans of his coronation.

Alysanne and Little Egg are almost fighting over who climbs faster in his father’s shoulders and when he turns at them with that smile you love and says:

“Hey. What did I say?”

“One at time”, grumbles Little Egg. “But I am the heir, therefore…”

“Heir you are, but you must not forget your manners, my son. Ladies first, or has chivalry died?”, and here you try to hide away your amusement.

“Fine. You go, sister.”

Alysanne puts out a tongue, but she too earns a reprehension of her father.

“Now, now, this is not the way, Lys.”

“Sorry”, she puts out a face that makes her irresistibly cute. Aegon chuckles and kisses her temple before putting her over his shoulders. “Weee! I’m flying!”

Aegon makes a noise that you suppose to emulate a dragon’s. The whole scene is adorable and gets your children’s attention. Soon he does the same to everyone—but Baelor, who’s asleep.

“Very well. Your father is tired, he’s done for the night. It’s late and you should be put in bed.”

“Papa”, says Jaehaera, putting his sleeve.

“Yes, daughter?”

“Can you tell us a story before we go to bed?”

“Yes!”, Alysanne runs to her sister’s side and the boys too, despite them pretending to lack interest, which amuses you.

“It’s your day, honey”, you tell him in between giggles. “I’m already occupied here.”

Aegon rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t want this arduous task. However, he makes sure to get the four children to put in your bed before getting to such a mission.

First, he gets Alysanne and Little Egg under blankets before putting the twins on his knees. Second… he makes sure to get their attention.

“Now listen up. Do you want to hear a story about a dragon princess who saved her dragon prince?”

“Hear! Hear!”, Little Egg cries out. “Ladies and gentlemen, no bard nor storyteller can match our dad!”

Aegon blushes.

“Why thank you for the praise, son. So I guess this is a yes?”

“Of course! There is romance too so we are all very pleased”, says a very romantic Alysanne.

You watch as your husband is set loose to your children. He likes the attention, but more so… he likes being their father.

If we were peasants, we’d be a merrier family.

Sweeping away these melancholic thoughts that make reference to an inevitable upcoming war, you focus on how happy he looks when the burden of wearing a crown is not smashing over him.

How loved he is when surrounded by these innocent toddlers who want to please him—and Aegon is eager to please them too.

You are teary at the scene. Alysanne is watching attentively as her father tells in his own your love story behind a great deal of creativity and fantasy, which makes you chuckle quietly. Jaehaera and her twin brother are not too far behind. These youngsters who like to make your quarters a mess are unusually quiet, captivated by their father’s voice, eyeing him with the most genuine devotion of a children.

Eventually though as the story comes to an end, they are all snoring.

“Well, my king. Our bed is full”, you laugh quietly as you put asleep Baelor carefully in his cradle.

Aegon smiles, moving to where you are and putting you against his arms.

“Thank you for giving me these beautiful children. I cannot believe I am this blessed.”

“How could it be otherwise? Oh Aegon, I love you.”

You spot some tears forming behind his eyes. He clears his throat, still uncomfortable with his own sentiments. Nevertheless he says:

“And I love you, my preciosity. You are my moon and stars.”

“And you are my sun and universe.”

This evening ends well. And you kiss him in turn.

*

But even sun sets in paradise. You are outdoors with Helaena, two maids and your children when Aemond comes in.

By the looks on his face nothing good is coming. You prepare for the bad news.

“What is it?”

Aemond cannot look at you, but it’s Helaena, who runs to his encounter, who casts a look at you and says:

“War has found its home. We best be prepared to fight it.”

Like a premonition, heavy rain starts to fall. You touch your hip, feeling that dagger you keep hidden underneath your silk gown.

“Well… Let war come. It will end with fire and blood”, you whisper to yourself before going back inside with the toddlers.

***

• A Dragon for A Dragon: The Cause Must Be Avenged.

You are by your husband’s side when the crown is put atop his head and Aegon raises his sword, applauded under the cheerful voices of “Long May Live King Aegon!”

It’s at you he looks for when his smug smirk curls on his lips. You nod approvingly, pride sparkling in your eyes.

Later that day, when council is opened, you are with the children when your husband summoned you. To a general surprise, Aegon wants his wife to be present at his council.

“My lady Y/N is as competent as my brother, Aemond”, he nods at his one-eyed sibling, who gives you a quick, indecipherable gaze. “That is my decision.”

“It is as it is”, says Otto in a dismissive tone. “We need to ponder what to do to counter Rhaenyra’s actions. She’s not inclined to peace.”

“We ought to do what it takes to preserve my crown”, muses Aegon. “Who are our allies?”

Someone starts to list them. You watch Aegon’s reaction, furrowing his eyebrows as he ponders what to do with the information.

“If I may speak”, says Aemond after some babbling dies. “I suggest we take Harrenhal. It’s my understanding the Blacks are heading its way there.”

“We use our dragons before they do. But if they are armed…”, you muse in almost in an inaudible suggestion.

Aegon shoots you a glance.

“Don’t.”

You sigh heavily, but don’t argue.

“I can go.”

“But we need Vhagar”, says Aegon. “Perhaps we can do without a dragon.”

“That is impossible. We are talking about a war of dragons, Your Grace”, says Otto, somewhat impossible. “We must preserve the dragons until we cannot. There’s no need to be in such a hurry. We will come out with a defense tactic.”

“Who’s the one intending to claim Harrenhal?”, you ask suddenly.

Ser Otto gives you a quizzical look, but it’s Aemond who answers you.

“Our uncle, Daemon Targaryen.”

“He’s the right hand of Rhaenyra”, you think out loud, not minding to call her a sister when Helaena does this role a lot better. “What about the other’s?”

“You are not considering getting into this fight, are you?”, to your surprise its Queen Alicent who voices out a general preoccupation.

“Visenya did so, my mother. Whilst I perform my duties accordingly, I shall stand for my husband’s right to wear his crown”, you flash him a smile and are pleased to see him regaining confidence.

“Your loyalty is touching, dear”, says Otto genuinely caring, for you and Helaena are his favourite grandchildren. “However, what military expertise do you have?”

“I am a great dragon rider and I could use this well”, you don’t find prudent to share that you’ve been taking sword lessons for a while. And by the looks Aegon gives you, you know he knows. “I could beat Baela, though.”

“This isn’t about vengeance. It’s about war.”

“War is founded upon vengeance, grandsire”, you speak gently. “Let it be said. A dragon for a dragon, my Aegon shall be avenged.”

That said you recline back to your chair, pleased to leave everyone in the room astonished with this side of yours few—except Aegon, Aemond and Helaena— are familiar with.

*

“You must stay for the children”, says Aegon. He’s walking from one side to the other, in evident display of nervousness.

It’s just the two of you in the council room this afternoon.

“I cannot handle the possibility of…”

He leaves his fears unspoken and it’s when you walk to where he is and holds his face with your hands.

“We are in this together, whether you like it or not. Your birth right will not be stolen from you. As our children’s…”, you smile at him, fondly. “We will wage this war, but with no need to be cruel.”

Aegon rests his forehead against yours, nodding in an agreement. It’s when he pursuits your lips and you let him lead the way. Suddenly, the kiss evolves and you are gladly lying against the table as he moves over you.

Every issue is kept drowned when the needs of flesh overcomes each. Aegon needs you as much as he needs you. Here comes that boy, starving for affection, that you know.

You gasp as his callous hands run over your thighs, lifting the skirts of your gown as his lips brush against your neck, biting your neck, leaving traces of bruises.

“Aegon”, you moan out his name in response of his eager fingers digging to your core. “Oh Gods!”

His eyes look for yours and when finding yours, your hands hold his hair, pulling him over you.

“My husband”, you gasp, moving your hips against his skillful hands, and soon you take your seat at the edge of the table.

“No”, he groans against your ear when perceiving your intentions. “Just sing out to me…”

But you answer to none—despite gladly obeying him in all when it’s due—so you smirk rebelliously when your hand finds the path to his pants.

“Come here… Let’s do it together”, and you whisper in his ear. “Remember when you taught me?”

Aegon closes his eyes, already unbearably aroused by your words. You bite his earlobe, moaning softly as you speak unspeakable things, caressing his manhood until it pumps against your palm.

“Fuck”, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “Fuck, Y/Nickname…”

“Yes, baby. Together. We are always together…”

And when he rises his eyes and bites your bottom lip… well, he replaces his hand with something else and it takes little time until you reach climax.

Together.

As it has always been.

“I love you”, you mumble in his ear.

“I love you”, he whispers back.

***

“A king cannot be so until he leads his soldiers”, says Aegon before the council.

To a general astonishment, this is Aegon announcing his preparations to war.

“A king delegates others of his trust for a good reason, Aegon”, your mother snaps at him. “Do not play the reckless…”

“I think it’s funny”, you muse out loud, attracting the council’s gaze—with particular notice to a smirking Aegon, aware of how subtle your temper works, and for which he’s grateful. “How so many of you planned to make the transition to this new reign in a peaceful form, and yet when it is more than clear that war is inevitable… you stop the king to do what’s must. War should have been prevented many moons ago, but this is not the time to live based on “what ifs”. If diplomacy is not the answer…”

You stand, and you swear you detect an approval smirk from Aemond himself.

“…then fire is.”

“May I suggest a fare point that could be turned to our advantage?”, and here Aemond speaks in turn.

“Well, it appears I speak to deaf ears”, grumbles Otto Hightower.

“Listen to Aemond, grandsire. We are not as impulsive as you judge”, you speak softly.

After a moment of silence, the Hand of the king reluctantly lets Aemond speak, of which your brother is thankful for. And you take your seat next to your mother.

What happens next, however, will test the stability of your husband’s cause.

*

“Baela has been spotted flying near Storm’s End”, you are glancing through the window when you hear Aemond’s whispering to his brother. “She’s sent there in order to bring Baratheons to Rhaenyra’s side.”

“And what do we know about their position?”, inquires Aegon.

As the two men speak, your eyes concentrate at what happens at the yard. Unaware of a grave event that is to mark their father’s reign, Little Egg and Alysanne are playing with Maekar and Rhaella in complete synchrony. You feel a fang of guilt for not spending time with them, but you convince yourself this will pass. After all, you cannot neglect the role of wife. When you told Aegon you’d do anything for him, you meant every word.

“Y/N”, Aegon comes at you, hands resting over your waist. He knows what afflicts you. “When I told you to stay, I’ve meant it.”

He turns you at him, sensing your tears as if he senses his own. You cannot repress all this stress that you’ve been going through. You simply… cannot. And he’s there to hold you, to pick your pieces up.

“You don’t have to be strong the entire time”, he whispers to you, cupping your cheeks and fighting away your fears. “Look at me. I demand it as your king.”

You chuckle lightly, but when you raise your gaze, you know you are the one exposed for the very first time. And Aegon appreciates it.

“This is often the reversed role, is it not? It’s usually me asking for comfort and not the other way around”, and here he wipes the tears off your eyes. “Your unending loyalty to me, regardless of my vices and countless flaws, is a very endearing gift. We have fragilities and they do not make us weak. It makes us… humans, I think. Not a word I think of often, but here’s a brilliant learning you’ve taught me.”

And he proceeds:

“I honestly did not wish our family ripped apart like that, more than aware knowing how a war between kin displeases the deities. But what else can I do? This is not about us, but about our children’s future. I want our five, and hopefully six, toddlers to grow strong and with a prospective future”, he smiles when he manages to get something out of your sadness. “I lament it mostly deep that I’ve brought such misfortune to our family. I wish it was otherwise, that you were proud of me…”

“I am proud of you”, you cut him. “Aegon, I could not look elsewhere and choose someone else to be espoused to. As much as I get along with Aemond, this isn’t the man I love. Who did I come up to this world with? You, Aegon Targaryen. I weep because I want to give you the peace you deserved. I witnessed all these wounds and…”

Aegon swallows his own tears, knowing today you are the one who needs comforts. He comes to realize that, being this stronghold for so long, you too had your own wounds, your own pieces to get.

Oh my darling, Y/N. We are their creatures, are we not?

“You are my sun and stars”, he mumbles. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself, Y/N. We are healing together, won’t we? This is us against the world, my lovely wife.”

Lifting your chin, he presses a soft kiss over your eyes and says:

“You gave me everything I was refused in these years. You gave me love when I had none, you restored me trust when I lacked in; you granted me happiness when I was unworthy it. You make my days a lot better.”

A pause comes where a comfortable silence hangs in between. You rest your forehead against his, breathing in his silence.

“If we came to this world together…”, you whisper secretively.

“…then it is only natural that we leave it together”, Aegon vows it with a smile on his lips.

The decision is done and the pact is made.

***

You see Aegon flying high with Sunfyre and a bad feeling consumes you. Aemond is there too, so he’s going to Vhagar when you stop him.

“Nay”, you tell him firmly. “Leave this to me.”

You are not wearing your court garments, but prepared to go to war. Underneath green and silk, with some adjustments, you are dressing hauberk with two sharp blades carefully guarded. Your long silver hair is tied in a perfectly braid.

“Today we don’t spot Alyssa”, says Otto, concerned about your bold attitude, narrowing his eyes as you mount Dreamfyre and fly high. “But Visenya Targaryen has come to us.”

A remark that would later echo through generations of poets.

*

What you and Aegon agreed was to inspire soldiers in order to go to local Y/C and there make it a stronghold to his cause. However, spies delivered news that Baela Targaryen is preparing to wage war… with her grandmother, Rhaenys.

Yet, who’s coming is Rhaenys’s red dragon, Meleys. Suddenly you are remembered of your daughter’s dreams and her fear in losing her father.

In order to try to prevent agony making a nest in your heart, in barely gritted teeth you command Dreamfyre to fly above skies—as high as possible without, however, missing Aegon’s position. After that, you promised yourself to fly to Baela’s encounter: there is an unknown bad blood that you find urgent to resolve at last.

In the meantime, though, this isn’t about you, but your king, your lover, your brother, father of your children. This isn’t about a crown, but the legacy of your family—misadjusted they may be, but it’s still the one you are part of.

Grey clouds begin to assemble, but Dreamfyre flies as if it’s in her natural environment. She knows your thoughts and sentiments, she’s prepared to fight even if for a while she hasn’t been part of any of the kind.

But she can fiery.

“Baby girl, be careful. Meleys can be…”

Your words die in your throat when you see fire coming from the old red dragon. Suddenly, Dreamfyre takes a deep dive and gives such a strong bite against Meleys, getting her off guard. Part of the flames may get to you, and you think you hear Aegon screaming your name—you’re fueled with adrenaline, and you cannot stop.

All you know is that, moved by your sentiments, Dreamfyre does drag Meleys down. And it only comes to an end when both rider and creature fall down.

An explosion is heard and felt. You are flying high, Dreamfyre’s sound coming as if echoing your silent mixed feelings. Now adrenaline comes to pass, you realize part of your arm is burnt—and it hurts like hell.

“Are you well, D?”, you ask your dragon, more concerned about her than to your own wounds, in spite of the unspeakable pain.

As if to nod that she is doing perfectly well, Dreamfyre turns her head. It’s when Aegon comes at you.

“My wife!”, and when you turn at him you spot concern in his eyes.

“I told you”, and suddenly weakness comes to shake your senses. “I’d do anything… anything… for…”

And why do words die in your mouth and everything is dark? You have no idea, but you swear that you hear Aegon yelling as your eyes close.

***

• The Aftermath.

In a twist of events, Aegon II refuses to leave your bed until you open your eyes. Nothing can take his mind off you, therefore all matters are placed for now in the hands of Otto Hightower.

Your children have momentarily been put under the care of their aunt Helaena, for so distressed is the king that he cannot fail his children now.

But gods be good and you recover your strength. To your surprise, Aegon is next to your side.

“How… What…”

“My beloved wife”, Aegon smiles warmly when seeing you well and safe, mostly important: alive. “My greatest defensor. Imprudent and reckless, but possessor of the sweetest heart I know.”

He kisses you carefully, as if he’s afraid of losing you.

“What happened? Did we win? How’s Dreamfyre?”

“Calm yourself, love. Rest”, says your husband in most affectionate tone, though firm. “Dreamfyre suffered little damaged in comparison to your broken and burnt right arm and neck. Good grief, woman. It was supposed to be me.”

“No”, you breathe out of relief. “Not you. Never.”

Carefully you lean to his side, not minding the slight pain given just by a slight move. You caress his face, seeing his concern, the fear of losing you… that you risked your life for him, something none has ever done for him…

“I love you”, he whispers like the needy boy he is. “Don’t leave me, Y/N.”

“I love you too, my king”, you brush your lips against his, fingers intertwining together. “We promised to leave this world the same we walked in here, didn’t we?”

Aegon half smiles at you.

Even though the battle is won, the war hasn’t ended yet.

*

With you regaining your strength, domestic life—where the king’s and yours are concerned—goes back to what it was before your accident.

“Papa, is mama well?”, Jaehaera asks him, eyes tearful.

She’s clinging onto him as he rocks her in his arm. This afternoon you are resting and he’s decided that he needs a break of governing for a moment as well.

Under his watchful gaze, Alysanne is working in her embroidery and Jaehaerys is playing toys with his eldest brother.

“She is resting, my love. But I assure you”, and here he pauses to kiss his daughter’s cheek, earning him a beam that breaks his inner walls, “that she is well. Your mama is as dragon as you.”

“I am a dragon because of her”, Jaehaera corrects him, which makes Aegon chuckle.

Oh aren’t you adorable? How could I father such a pure child? And how… how else does she love me so?

In order to avoid the depth of such thoughts, Aegon limits himself in kissing his daughter’s forehead. Then he drives his fatherly gaze to his offspring.

“What are you seeing there, Alys? Let me see.”

Alysanne is blushing before her father’s attention. Very pompously, she takes her embroidery work so he can take a look.

“Aunt Helaena has taught me how to use the needle properly. I was struggling with the smaller ones”, she admits somewhat shyly so. “So here’s a green dragon. I want to mark in my gown your coat of arms, papa.”

Aegon swallows before the sight of his daughter, whose eyes show an eagerness to please him—a feeling he knows so well, but unlike Alysanne’s case, he was never corresponded. Precisely why the king beams and says:

“I am very proud of your skills, Alys. I am unworthy of such an honor”, says he with a wide smile.

In this sacred moment with his daughters so close, Aegon doesn’t see you come by. You are leaning against the wall, pleased to find your family in complete harmony.

Your boys, getting along… Jaehaerys trying to impress a very serious Little Aegon in his building, earning an eventual smile of his older brother’s approval. All the whilst Jaehaera sleeps in her father’s lap and Jaehaera is blushing pleasantly at the praises she receives him.

It makes you think of your own scars. How many times you tried to please your father and all you got was dismissive waves, distant conversations and comparisons to Rhaenyra?

Containing a sigh, you know how all of this is nothing to what you have now, but it’s pointless to deny these scars. They make you who you are, as it’s Aegon’s case.

Both of you are everything your parents were not. When Aegon looks at you with a smile on his lips, you smile too because you know you succeeded at it.

**

Despite the gleeful scenarios, war is still going. You are barely recovered when there are news of Baela flying to take y/c, a very important spot for the cause she defends.

You are listening to the Green Council’s strategies when you find Aemond and Aegon’s gaze on you. You lower yourself, but you know why they are concerned about you.

When defending Aemond so many moons ago, it was Baela who hit you hard. Even though you managed to knock her down, your fury was such that left the boys open mouthed by then.

A grudge that you were never able to overcome. A wound that time didn’t heal.

But the opportunity comes just fine.

“I can patrol skies”, you announce casually.

“I forbid you, Y/N”, Aegon is the first to protest. “There is no need to…”

“Y/C stays close to King’s Landing”, you muse, trying to remain calm.

“She’s not daring to come nearby when Vhagar is here”, interferes Aemond.

Both of you exchange looks. You bite down your lips, saying no more. However… opportunity to fight for your husband is coming once more, and yet at what cost?

Days go by when it’s decided that Aemond shall take Harrenhal on behalf of the Crown. This comes after Rhaenyra suffers another blow: her son Jacaerys was defeated once for all in an encounter against Aegon himself.

“I’m proud of you”, you smile the brightest as you two parade at the capital. “A great victor, that you are!”

Aegon flushes at your compliments. This day you and him ride splendid horses before all, richly dressed in order to reinforce signs that the civil war is coming to an end.

“As I am”, he takes your hand to his lips, not minding the courtly rules where public display of affection is concerned. “My greatest defensor. I am nothing without you, Y/N.”

Despite taking pride in this acknowledgment, you play the humble.

“My king, this is untrue. I only do what I am asked of: to daily submit my will to yours, to provide you heirs, to pledge for the safety of our subjects during this rebellion”, you smile at him for, despite the embellishment of your words, you speak such with your heart.

“My queen, blessed by the divine with the utmost caring for this one who gives you word; your unending loyalty and wisdom beyond your years played a great part in the conduct of the affairs of this realm. Whether I wage wars, whether I bring peace to our subjects it is in you and in the beautiful children you provided me that I think of.”

In silence, when he squeezes your hand and nods at you, you know what he means. And as you smile timidly and play the humble queen, he knows what you speak too.

In your own ways, underneath this public exhibition, one tells the other:

I love you.

‘Tis enough to make the people rejoice and praise for the health of King Aegon the Wise and Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen.

***

• Epilogue.

War had its costs. But it eventually came to an end. Upon its twilight, revenge bled two broken houses of one dynasty for the last time. Aegon met his sister, Rhaenyra, just after you defeated Baela at the Battle of Stormlands, which would later be sang by bards how ‘two damsels, misled by the ambitions of men, took their dragons to a deadly feast and thus they danced’ until ‘the lady Baena was stabbed in the heart by a very bold move of Queen Y/N’.

Some of superstitious folks believed to have seen in you the ghost of Queen Visenya.

You brought a victory to your cause, but got yourself a broken arm. Dreamfyre was hurt too, but not injured enough to impede her to fly with you over the lands of the Baratheons, who welcomed you.

In the meantime this happened, Daemon Targaryen was defeated and Aemond conquered it all. Daemon’s lover, the witch queen of the place, Alys Rivers, attempted to transfer her affections to his nephew—unsuccessfully so. It was rumored that he said the following words:

“Mine heart knoweth no lady that is not mine damsel, Helaena.”

What was her destiny after these words were professed? The chroniclers could not tell. She vanished and many attributed to Lord Aemond her death.

Whatever the truth, Lady Helaena and her offspring moved with Silverwing to meet her husband, ignoring his orders that she should not do so until he sent for her. Apparently she knew what the outcome was going to be.

As for the battle between Rhaenyra and her brother for the throne, Rhaenyra was defeated. However, it was you who interfered on behalf of the kingdom to impede her death.

An agreement was arranged: Rhaenyra, albeit reluctantly, renounced her rights to the throne and agreed to wed her sons to you and Aegon’s daughters, as well as to wed her daughters to your sons. Peace was finally sealed and she was left to live in Dragonstone.

Once reunited, in the present day this feud is now a page in history. You are enjoying better days, ruling behind the scenes as Aegon conducts the realm with a wit that surprised most.

“He is a good king”, you tell your mother in a day where, to a general surprise, Aegon brokered a peace treaty with the Dornish. “Why it surprises you goes beyond my comprehension.”

Today you are dressing a long green, silk gown with reinforces your curves; your silver locks are carefully braided under a hair net that reminds Alicent of the days the dowager queen used to wear it herself. Besides the ravishing look, you wear the jewels Aegon recently gifted you: a pair of emerald earrings and a gold necklace.

“He was hardly the most devoted to studies, is all”, so your mother tells you.

It is a curious contrast how, after many years, you and her found a way to overcome parental issues. But even now, you find difficult to accept some of the critics she at times weaves to her eldest boy.

“Please, it was only lack of proper encouragement”, you roll your eyes as a response.

“I see I cannot make a comment about my son when I’m with you. Let us change topics”, and here she smiles. “I heard you are carrying another child.”

“Well, what can I say? Aegon makes it difficult not to engage in marital affairs”, you giggle maliciously.

Upon which Queen Alicent scoffs, feigning offense.

“To hear these words from the Good Queen Y/N?!”

“Why, I am not complaining. Pretty much otherwise.”

In between chuckles, you move to the gardens where the dowager queen finds all her grandchildren playing together.

Aemond, recently acknowledged as Hand of the King, is talking to Aegon, probably something about the affairs of the realm—judging by their serious countenance. But the one eyed prince is also attentive to his wife, Helaena, who’s teaching the now ten year old Alysanne to improve the girl’s skills, joined by their daughter Rhaella, same age as her cousin. As well as how Maekar and Little Egg—as Aegon’s heir will be always known—are talking nonsenses of their age.

The little ones are not too far behind. Aegon is holding three year old Baelor as he talks to his brother, but is in a position where he can watch over the young toddlers. It does not go unnoticed by all how Jaehaera tries to be friends with another Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son, who was sent with Viserys to be educated at court. Aegon doesn’t look very pleased, but young Viserys is too busy playing with cousins Jaehaerys and Aerys.

When seeing you with their mother coming at the happy meeting, Aegon soon excuses himself to greet you.

“My mother”, he pays the due respects to Queen Alicent, and then doing the same to you. “My lovely wife.”

“Aegon my darling”, and here you pick the chubby baby out of his arms. “Baelor, did you miss mama? Or were you too spoiled by daddy?”

Aegon gives you a smug grin.

“Well, isn’t this why I’m their father in the first place?”

“Not to overindulge, my love.” But not even you believe in what you are saying.

Soon, Helaena and Aemond join the three of you.

“Together at last”, and not to a general surprise Helaena greets you with a warm smile and her own way in showing her affection to you.

“Greetings to you too, my dearest. I was having a moment with our mother. She has some news to share”, you flash the dowager queen a mischievous smirk, pleased to find her blushing.

“Oh…”

“Shh, don’t ruin the surprise.”

To which Aemond confides a whisper to Aegon:

“As if it’s a surprise to know what she’s yet to tell.”

“It did take more years than we’ve judged”, the elder of the two agrees, struggling to muffle a chuckle.

“Well, I was worried… due to the recent events that concerned us all, that…” the Queen doesn’t really know how to put it.

But Helaena makes it easy for all of you.

“If you are happy, then we are happy for you.”

“You deserve it, mother”, you echo your sister’s support.

“But I…”

“Do not protest. We’ve always seen Ser Criston as the father we didn’t have”, says Aegon.

“He did indeed raise us, though”, so Aemond points the obvious.

“I appreciate your support. Then I think we should invite Ser Criston to join us.”

“Later, perhaps”, says Aegon, mirroring that old mischievous spirit that characterized his youth. “I need a moment with my wife and my children if you excuse me.”

“Oh yes, the family man”, teases Aemond discreetly before getting a punch in his arm.

This afternoon, all parts well and in restored peace as it should have been the way it started long time ago.

***

Aegon has just flew with Sunfyre and Little Egg with his own dragon. It’s a good time to do so and represents a unique moment between father and son.

When looking at this growing boy, who’s about to rise to Prince of Dragonstone in due time, Aegon struggles to see he’s no longer that toddler easily impressed with Sunfyre and his first time flying high.

“You are looking at me in a funny way”, says his son as they land and go back to their quarters. “Do you have news to share? Or is it the way I conduct…?”

“No, no. Not at all”, and here he pulls Egg under his arm, ruffling his hair and pleased to get him some chuckles. “I was just noticing that you are growing to a fine man and I am not ready to let that go yet.”

“You sound like mom”, and so typically he pulls a grimace.

“Your mother loves you as much as I do. One day you’ll have children of your own and you’ll see what I mean. As for news, did I tell you that your grandmother secretly remarried and believed no one would suspect she did so?”

The fourteen year old boy laughed loud. A sound that somehow is almost equal to his. Aemond smiles.

“No! I cannot believe my ears! Was she espoused by Ser Criston? But that man…”

“Shush. He’s your grandsire now.”

But the idea brings the two to joint laughters.

*

Aegon is all smiles when he’s with his girls too. After spending a while hearing Jaehaerys’s proudly progress in his studies, a deed that does impress him, he’s doting on his princesses too. You are already pompously dressed for the dinner when you find your husband hearing Jaehaera’s recent claimant in her dragon which she named Moonfyre because of the curious mix of silver and red scales.

A deed that did impress her elder sister and father.

“I know we have a great bond”, says the seven year old excitedly. “But…”

“But you are likely the youngest of our dynasty to have ridden a dragon! And all by yourself!”, and here Aegon cannot help himself and fuss over Jaehaera, who blushes pleasantly. “My little girl is getting me some headache in the future, I can already foresee it!”

“Well, she has so much of her father to be blamed on it”, you smile at him.

What a scene. Aegon joins you, not the king circumstances made him, but the grown man you loved since you could remember. When he tangles you in his arms and doesn’t mind being affective to you—“uuuuuugh” would tease the boys and even Jaehaera makes a grimace—, you know those wounds took time to heal.

Love prevailed over all.

As you’ve always believed it.

*

King Aegon II and his Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen were found dead in an embrace that would be turned into marble. Theirs is one of the longest reign, despite the early years of civil war.

Aegon II is succeeded to his eldest son, Aegon III, married to Rhaena Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. Aegon’s Hand was his long time loyal cousin, Maekar, who wedded his sister Rhaella.

No more turmoils to be seen… for a long while. Dragons did die, as foreseen by Alysanne, who became Princess of Dorne in due time, but they also survived and prospered.

[luveline]

Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?” 

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too. 

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork. 

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively. 

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.” 

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?” 

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say. 

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.” 

“What happened?” 

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face. 

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.” 

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.” 

You frown at one another. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?” 

“No,” you mumble. 

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again. 

“I’m consistently below average.” 

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.” 

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does. 

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.” 

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.” 

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?” 

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 190 }

labor of love.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

ken sato had never known the joys of being pampered and cared for in his adult life-

that is, until the moment he meets you.

you were someone he believed he never truly deserved; a woman who was far too giving, far too kind for the likes of him. yet against all odds, you were someone who remained by his side, knowing of his struggles with taking on the responsibilities of ultraman while maintaining his status as a star baseball player.

you kept him grounded; filling his days with joy when the weight of own personal world was on the brink of collapse as you gave him an unconditional type of love. he never had to hide his emotions or his true self from you when things got hard-

and he loved you dearly for it.

coming home from practice with his team, ken parks his motorbike on his driveway, settled directly next to your car as he smiles at the sight of it. knowing you were already home fills his heart with joy as ken walks with a noticeable bounce in his step up to his house.

his keys weren’t even inserted into the keyhole when the front door suddenly opens, revealing your beautiful features to him. ken smiles, calling out your name with a fondness as you eagerly welcome him into your embrace. “kenji! you’re home…”

he chuckles and wraps his arms around you, stepping into the living room with you still clinging to him while locking the door in the process. “yeah, i’m home, babe.” he brushes his lips against your hair, watching as you scrunch up your nose in response.

“gross, ken, you smell musky and damp.”

feigning offense to your words, ken ends up wrapping the entirety of his limbs around your form, earning a series of giggles from you. filled with affection and a playfulness for you, ken ends up leaning the entirety of his weight on your back, making you let out a grunt as you dragged him with you into the bathroom.

“you’re such a big baby, ken…!”

“yeah? well i’m your big baby, sweets.” ken finally loosens up his hold on you, bringing you back into his powerful embrace when his eyes take in the sight of his bathtub filled to the brim with warm water.

ken could feel his muscles aching with need from the sight, the memory of his coach’s training regimen coming back to him in full force as he let out a loud groan. “babe, for real? you did all this for me?”

“of course i did, you big baby.” you hum while peeling off the rest of his clothes, not stopping until he was bare for you as you carefully lead him into the tub filled with piping hot water. as you help him get into the tub, ken lets out a hiss in response before visibly relaxing, letting out a sigh before submerging the entirety of his body beneath the waters.

“honey, you shouldn’t have… but i ain’t gonna start complaining now.”

your constant giggles were like music to ken’s ears as he felt your hands massaging at his shoulders, working out all the tension his muscles had developed during practice today. “baaaabbbby damn, this feels so good. you’re spoilin’ me too much.”

his voice was drawn out, letting out deep grunts and purrs of your name as you continued to treat him with your massages. when you were certain he was satisfied, you turn away from him and grab his trademark beer, cracking open the can for him while silently beckoning your beloved to take a hold of it.

“holy shit, what in the hell did i ever do to deserve you?”

you giggle again and give him a loving smile, carefully wetting his dark strands of hair before lathering it with his favorite shampoo. you work on massaging his scalp, basking in his groans before admitting to him, “what can i say? my beloved is a star baseball player and ultraman; of course i’d wish to spoil you, kenny.”

ken visibly blushes at the sound of your nickname for him. he lets out a gentle scoff, trying to hide his embarrassment by taking a sip of his beer. the smile was heard from your voice, and you continue to wash his hair until he was satisfied.

after helping him rinse off his hair, you carefully dress your boyfriend in his signature silk robe, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips before leading him back into the kitchen. “sit at the table and i’ll heat up dinner for you.”

ken hums, but stops you from moving when he grips at your wrist to press another chaste kiss against your lips. “you know how much i love you, right?”

“of course i know, you dweeb. i wouldn’t have stayed by your side if you weren’t as crazy about me as i am about you.”

ken rolls his eyes upon hearing your words, but couldn’t stop the blush from deepening against his cheeks. finally, he lets you go and allows you to heat up dinner, continuing to take casual sips of his beer all while eagerly waiting for your return.

within the next 15 minutes, you come back to the dining table and place a piping hot plate of omurice in front of him, drawn with a cute ketchup heart on top of it. feeling like he was on top of the world right now, he gives you a grateful smile before digging into his food, telling you how delicious it tasted as he practically devours his meal within seconds.

not only was his stomach full, but his heart as well. ken was filled to the brim with so much love for you that he honestly felt as though he were living in a dream. as if mesmerized by your tender love and care, ken simply follows you without saying a word, allowing you to take his hand before leading him back to your shared bedroom.

you slowly take off his silk robe, helping him get into his shirt and sweatpants before beckoning him to get into bed. he does so with a low grunt, his handsome features slowly upturned in a smirk before teasing you.

“heh… i’m surprised you haven’t pounced on me yet with the amount of times you’ve seen me naked…”

you roll your eyes at his attempts at seducing you, “don’t be ridiculous, ken, you’re exhausted and mentally drained right now.”

ken merely hums in response, his eyelids starting to grow heavier while yawning. once he was tucked in, you had every intention of finishing up some chores around the house when ken manages to stop you, his large hand gripping at your wrist. you look back at him with a smile, hearing him mutter to you, “mmm stay….”

“you want me to stay with you?”

cue ken giving you a sleepy nod.

“but i’ve got dishes to clean.”

“fuck the dishes.”

you let out a gasp when ken takes advantage of his strength to pull you back into bed with him. he lets out a satisfied hum, allowing you to rest your head on his broad chest. the sound of his calm heartbeat against your ear makes you visibly relax, finding comfort within his warmth while being surrounded by his scent.

“you’re spoiled, you know that, kenny?”

“hmph… y’love me anyways.”

you giggle and nod, pressing a kiss against his chest. “you’ve got me there, kenji.” was your whispered reply, but by now, you were certain that he had fallen asleep. you could feel the way his chest rose and fell in tune with his breathing, making you smile in response.

with a sigh, you cuddle your body closer to his, feeling your eyelids grow heavier before falling into a peaceful slumber. for the next several minutes, silence was heard, and only when ken was certain that you were in a deep sleep did he open one eye to look down at you. remaining ever so careful with his movements, he takes a hold of your left hand and makes a note of your ring finger, already imagining the perfect engagement ring for you.

he lets out a gentle whisper of your name before pressing a kiss against your left ring finger. “i hope you’re ready to be mine forever, babe, because there’s no way in hell i’m letting someone as good as you go.”

a.n. - ken is so cute tbh tbh, i can’t stop thinking about how cute and soft he looks in ultraman rising ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[triannel]

hello! Bill and a deaf-mute reader?

Alternatively, for the sake of attention and trying to impress, could Bill try to learn sign language or speak to them telepathically? I'm not sure about his telepathy. At least in the dream world, can hear him???

A funnier option: BILL CREATES SUBTITLES. When someone speaks, subtitles appear around them. Of course it takes a while to read, but the reader tries his best and probably laughs.

Bill and deaf-mute reader headcannon's

-Perceiving the world only by sight, your life was exceptional, your family loved you dearly but unfortunately they could not yet afford any treatment for your disability.

-You enjoy all you have though, not letting it upset you. The colors of the world making you feel functional at least. Although, you would be lying if you said you loved being like this.

-At times though you wished for your voice to come, for you to speak and hear all the sounds you could. You wanted to experience what other people had, you wanted to be normal... But until then you just had to be patient, the savings of your parents giving you more hope than ever.

-Then you met him, a strange creature that one day appeared in your dream. The three sided creature, Bill Cipher.

-He suddenly just appeared one day and for once in your life you heard something. When he spoke, you truly did hear him speak, although it did take some time for you to properly understand him. Your reading comprehension is great, but hearing and understanding was something you thought you never could attain, but here you are.

-Before you could properly understand him, he actually used sign language to speak, although it was not perfect you appreciated it.

-He messed around for a bit as well. After trying sign language, he also tried different methods to communicate. Charades, writing in different languages, drawing and even adding subtitles when he talked.

The vibrant colour of yellow brightened slightly as he spoke, subtitles appearing under him as he does so. The words flashed by quickly so you had to read fast in order to understand, but suddenly he stopped, and started drawing different pictures on the air that slowly transitioned to Morse code.

Like little bells, you started to laugh at his antics. Was....was that you, did you do that?

Surprised, you froze on the spot and tried to speak. A mess of jumbled sound was heard.

"JEEZ FINALLY! YES THAT'S YOU WONDER EYES," the subtitles under him read.

Right after you understood, a quick explosion happened inside of you. With a big toothy smile, you could not believe this was happening.

"WELL YOU BETTER BELEIVE IT, CAUSE' IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THESE YOU JUST NEED TO GIVE ME A SMALL favor IN RETURN," he spoke, using different methods that made it hard to decipher.

-You would ultimately reject his offer though, making a deal with him sounded quite sketchy.

-But despite your refusal, he surprisingly did not at all revoke your ability to speak and listen. He just kept coming back with no reason.

-His power would only work inside your mind though, as his reach to your dimension is too thin to have a direct effect on you.

-Overtime you would grow fond of him though, becoming quite a bit attached to the dreams that grants you the abilities you lost long ago. However, you can't help but feel it's all just a dream. It just feels so surreal, but even so you'd like to savour this as long as you'd like.

Waking up from your consciousness, you return to the mindscape. A few feet away from you, Bill sits in front of a piano.

Pressing one key, a musical note emenated from the instrument. Raising both his hands for a moment, he then started playing a song. Slowly, the notes colided with each other, creating a beautiful harmony.

The melody started to dance in your ears, your heartbeat slowing down as he started to sing.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer do..." He sang in unison while playing the piano.

Humming along with the tune, you approached him. Sitting down beside the long stool, you closed your eyes, humming and listening with your heart and ears as you both enjoyed each other's company.

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner? 

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.” 

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips. 

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.” 

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar. 

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.” 

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you. 

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.” 

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing. 

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock. 

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.” 

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked. 

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel. 

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel. 

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him? 

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length. 

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip. 

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth. 

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below. 

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.” 

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

[functionofjules]

At Last

Pairing: Five Hargreeves X (She/her) Synopsis: (Taking place at the start of Season 2) Y/n finds herself alone in the sixties. Just as she begins to give up hope of ever getting home to her husband, Five, she’s pleasantly surprised. A/N: Reader has healing powers which lead to enhanced abilities like endurance and strength. Aged up Five in my interpretation. Feeling nostalgic after the series finale.

I slam to the ground with a force that could rival an elephant cracking my spine. Luckily enough, I have a tendency to avoid the repercussions from a fall of such heights. I can practically feel my cells regenerating already.

My tattered Umbrella Academy uniform that I borrowed from Allison’s closet upon Five and I’s arrival is reeking of the events of the last week. I’m not particularly fond of it and due to my lack of personal hygiene lately, I think I may be due for an outfit change.

I observe my surroundings. It seems I’m far away from home. By that I mean directly next to a dumpster.

I cautiously make my way into the street and take note of the vintage style of clothing. This indicates I’ve been dropped somewhere between the 50s-60s. This is confirmed when I steal a glance at a newspaper dated March 5th, 1960. At this point I feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Not necessarily because of the date but because I can’t seem to find a single Hargreeves sibling, most importantly my husband, Number Five.

I stagger backward until my back hits a wall that I slide down. Just as the tears begin to pour, a figure casts a shadow over my hunched position. I look up in hopes of a familiar face but am only met with a stranger. She has soft blonde hair framing her face which honestly reminds me of that actress, Florence Pugh, from the only film Five and I had time to see.

In pitying tone accompanied by her southern drawl she asks “You okay, Pumpkin? What’s the matter? You look like you ain’t doing too hot.”

I let a shaky breath escape and contemplate how much information I should give this woman. There’s no way in hell I’m explaining how my husband and I just attempted to stop the end of the world only the end up being separated from him and the rest of his family. So I settle for the next best thing.

“I’m a little lost,” I admit “My family and I got separated and I have nowhere to go.”

“Aw you poor thing!” She exclaims, bending down to my level and taking my hand “You want to come with me? I can getcha something to eat and figure things out from there.”

I nod, standing to my feet.

“That sounds nice. Thank you…” I falter realizing we hadn’t properly introduced ourselves.

She takes both my hands in hers and says “Charlotte, but you can call me Lottie.”

“I’m Y/n,” I say, offering my first smile since getting thrown out of that portal “Y/n Hargeeves.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s been three years since I was dropped in Dallas and a lot has changed.

Lottie and I live together I her two bedroom loft apartment and work together everyday at the local diner. It was quite different from my work at the Commission but not to brag, I’ve developed a very impressive coffee pouring time.

I haven’t heard anything from Five. At first I figured he’d come along right after me but he never did. A part of me holds out hope he got dropped somewhere further ahead in the timeline then me or got caught up with someone putting out a hit on him but I’m losing that hope. But I’m okay here with Lottie. I’ve built myself a nice life in Dallas.

I had just expected it to be another normal day at the diner. I tied my apron in a tight knot around my waist, told Lottie to hurry up, and we began to rush down the street together.

I had told Lottie a little about Five. How we were in love and we always protected each other. She knows better than anyone how much I miss him.

We rush into the diner with the ring of the bell behind us and ran to the back to put away our bags. Just as we’re about to head through the door my manager calls, “Y/n! I need you to give one of the chefs a hand with the pantry inventory.”

I shrug “Okay boss!”

A shoot Lottie a wave and run back to help our chef, Dave, count various condiments.

I was still in there after about fifteen minutes when Lottie ran back with a strange look in her eye. She slammed the door with such force I almost slipped off the stool I was balanced on.

“Sorry!” She apologizes, but I can tell she can’t contain herself for long “There’s a guy asking for you.”

I raise a brow “Asking for me? Is it that Harry guy again? Because he gives me the creeps, I’m really not in the mood to-“

She shushes me

“No it’s not Charlie! I really think you ought to get out there. I’ll finish up back here for ya!” She cuts me off, practically shoving me out the door.

“Okay, okay!” I say, chuckling at her intensity “I’ll go! Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

I think nothing of what could be on the other side of that door cause I know it’ll be the same thing everyday. I snatch my notepad out of my apron and the pen from behind my ear.

“Welcome in! What can I do for you today?” I say. I was about to list off the specials until I look up and see Luther Hargreeves sat next to…”Five?”

He blinks behind the counter saying “Hello Darling-“

I don’t let him get to far before a tackle him with kisses. Every inch of his face is smeared in my burgundy lipstick and it takes everything in me to stop there. I let him stand to his feet as tears spring to my eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe-“ And then the anger sets in “I can’t believe you!”

His brown furrows as I begin to land strikes to his chest.

“You left me! You abandoned me for three years! I was terrified I was never going to see you again! How could you do something so reckless!” I tell. There’s a large part of me that knows it isn’t actually his fault but I choose to neglect that right now. My hits become harder and it’s only then he gently grasps my wrists and lays his forehead against mine.

Throughout my whole fit, he is shushing me and whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love. I didn’t want to. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

I finally cease my attacks and begin to breathe easily again. Once I’m calm I turn back towards my brother in law.

“Hi Luther.”

“Oh,” he says with an awkward attempt at a smile “Hello!”

Just then, Lottie reveals herself from behind the kitchen doors and walks over. She scans the scene and smirks at me, saying “Hey pumpkin! Care to introduce your friends?”

I chuckle introducing everyone “Lottie, this is my husband, Five Hargreeves. And this is my brother in law, Luther.”

“Alright!” She replies with a smile “Who wants coffee?”

[evilminji]

Not my usual Fandom BUT...

You know what would be and always is fascinating/interesting/hilarious? For want of a nail type, "tiny change or little action spiral into great and sweeping change" type fics! ESPECIALLY when combined with my dearly beloved Self Insert troupe!

Because? I DO so love the Self Insert! Not so much for the "I can fix it" or power fantasy, as the ability to wander... a stranger in a strange land. Both familiar yet removed. Known to us yet... not. The major actors, major events, certainly. But the lives of the average person?

The noodle shop owner? The ship salesman? A janitor?

We know nothing about this strange new world from their point of view. What secrets can be found in this or that little shop, well off the common path. And it is FASCINATING! Especially if the Insert wasn't particularly FAMILIAR with the source material. Knew enough to get by, perhaps, too know they are in danger... but not enough to twist events to their favor. Assuming they even had the type of personality to TRY such things.

No, no...

What I? Want to see?

What I think would be FASCINATING?

Is a TRUE carry over. Adult mind to adult mind. Someone settled in their ways. Not bold and terribly adventurous, not willing to recklessly seek out danger and pain. No. They know they are going to die. They know they HAVE died. They are now a Jedi. And can feel the Force... and?

It just... helps.

They let go. Yes, perhaps some plans to protect the younglings. If they can. But their ultimately IS no death, only the Force. It is scary, they acknowledge, frightening even. But they... find calm. Acceptance.

They meditate. Open themselves up to the Force and give up their worry and fears, their regrets. All the terrible burdens they brought with them from their past life. It's honestly a bittersweet sort of relief. Ironic, that such a troubled age should be their most peaceful.

Of course... opening yourself up like that? Reaching out so deeply and with such conviction? It's like painting a "hey! I'm right here! I'm definitely going to listen if you say something to me!" Sign on your forehead, where the Force can see it.

So? It DOES.

But unlike Anikin? The Insert isn't a Fighter. So the Force doesn't tell them to fight. After all, every part has its place in the grand machine of Life. Every actor their place on the stage. Sometimes? To change the galaxy? All you need is someone to be on the right planet, at the right time, ready to hold a door open for the right person.

And that's it.

Not everything needs be grand sweeping actions. It can, instead, be the quiet drip drip drip of medicine applied behind a Sith Lord's back. To undo the damage he has wrought. So when comes the time for his plans to unfold? He does NOT find the support he was counting on to succeed. Instead he finds resistance.

But HOW? How would such a thing be DONE? By a YOUNGLING no less?

A youth with no power? Be it social, political, or physical? AND beneath the Sith Lord's very nose? Without being STOPPED? With said youngling being KILLED? Quite simply! Easily, in fact! By embracing the purest of the Light!

Fun.

Who among us, does NOT know of the parasocial relationship? The feeling of knowing someone, considering them "good" and "something like a friend" dispite never once having spoken to them? Being FOND of them? Wouldn't YOU not defend them? If someone sought to HURT them? KILL them? You KNOW them so very WELL don't you? This person speaks LIES about them!

And what of the Adorable Youngling? Small and Cute? Look at their little cheeks and tiny hands! How precious! Why, we have watched them GROW! They are practically family!

But where does the FUN I speak of come into this? Simple. The Holonet. Crechemaster's trying to corral an adult in the body of a child. The Insert is BORED. At peace, yes. But you can really only meditate so many hours of the day. Lessons only take up so much and class work the same. They aren't at an age where the SERIOUS lessons begin yet.

So they have too much free time.

..........have you heard about "Video Game #55? It's apparently got more Video AND Game then ever!" Intriguing~ But, oh. Playing it ALONE it BORING. And playing with... well, INFANTS, is... an exercise in patience. Plus it's probably not appropriate for them. Hmmmmm..... you KNOW.... Insert really DOES miss? Watching Let's Plays over breakfast/lunch...

They've never MADE one... but they know they general script and idea? And for Some Reason? It feels like a GREAT way to pass the time! Yeah! Let's do THAT! And so the Force nudges. Tiny. Seemingly inconsequential. The Master's try to shut it down, Insert is stubborn and refuses, they talk it out. Because they are Jedi and authoritarian force is not their way. Is it frustrating? Perhaps. But the only cure for ignorance is knowledge.

They ultimately compromise. Insert get to keep their little game thing, THEY make sure Insert is compromising Temple security, putting themselves in danger, talking to dubious strangers, or other such perils. It is? A FASCINATING view into the secretive world of the Mysterious Jedi for most of the galaxy. All lead by an adorable Youngling playing games.

Of course, such a silly, ridiculous thing is BENEATH Palpatine's concern. Fun and games? Not even formal or official ones? The child doesn't even represent the jedi. They represent no one. Clearly not a threat, right?

WRONG.

Because one game? Leads to another. Leads to being recommended another. Leads to "hey check out this music". Leads to "how was your day?" Leads to chatting about Jedi philosophy... as simplified for small children. Easy to understand and then complained over like it's maths homework. And... huh.

You guys really liked when I talked about X? Well, I don't know much about it... buuut? I could probably FIND someone or go to the archives? Make a video? I'll make a poll. Vote down below?

Untouchable and distant? Nah. Jedi play "Crafting Game 73" and whine about their Crechemates being JERKS for eating the last dessert. Jedi, in their head's, are small adorable younglings and the amused adults meditating the back ground who watch over them. EVERYONE knows the Jedi. The Jedi are on our datapads. Are our friends. We've totally met them.

Parasocial relationships.

Or maybe that's just me? I just... God I REALLY want to see how they'd react to a initiate who just? Won't stop fuckin making Let's Plays of all things. Just? WHY. HOW? WHY AND HOW?! No, NO don't you shrug at me and run of, youngling! Get back here! What "skill issue"? Which skill? Initiate!!!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @leftnotright @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @spidori

[shanastoryteller]

I was wondering why Necromancers in SIAT are called mothers? I don't think it's been said why, and considering the story has male Necromancers, I don't get it?

free yourself from the gender binary and maybe you'll be less of a drag

anyway

He’s a necromancer. He’s a Mother. He knows how to come home.

He’s a Mother, and that gives him an edge over other necromancy practitioners

Draco pauses. “Is being a necromancer genetic?”  “Maybe? Being a Mother isn’t, though,” he says.

"So whoever did this specifically didn’t want us to know who they were and knows that you’re a necromancer, if not a Mother,” Draco says. 

If Slughorn were out there haunting someone or something, he’d be easy to find. Even a normal necromancer could do it, never mind Mothers that have worked with him for decades.

i could keep going, but i assume you get the point. all mothers are necromancers, not all necromancers are mothers

as to why i went with the term mother, what better title is there for one who commands life into death? who controls death and lives with it in a way that others do not? the first time you were brought into this world, there was screaming, and there was blood. the second time, mother holds their breath and no one bleeds

this post puts many quotes i'm fond of in the same place

In many ways, women are death’s natural companions. Every time a woman gives birth, she is creating not only a life, but a death. Samuel Beckett wrote that women “give birth astride of a grave.” 

— Caitlin Doughty, from Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory

The part of sexism that bores and angers me most is the culling, the simplification of women into Hallmark cards of femininity. When I became a mom, no one ever said, “Hey, you made a death. You made your children’s deaths.” Meanwhile, I could think of little else. It’s scary to think of mothers as makers of death, but it sure gives them more power and complexity than one usually finds.

— Samantha Hunt, interviewed by The New Yorker

[the-monkeies-girl]

Subway Systems - Five x Reader - Oneshot snippet.

No big deal whatever its just me writing stuff enjoy a snippet and if you like it idk maybe i post the whole thing lol

They were alive--- Just like you, the plants you tended to, part of a daily ritual you fell into with the Hargreeves. They were alive, breathing and… Half dead, holding on what seemed like a thread just like it felt you were doing for the past two-thousand five-hundred and fifty five days. Seven years, if your math was correct. Seven years since the soles of your feet threaded off the metallic base of the subway car, seven years since you last had seen the outside world you were so familiar with, teetering between worlds of destruction that offered no solace for either traveler once stepped off the car you were on that day.

There were some sunny days that beat against your skin, burning engraves of rays into you that reminded you of the slowness of the Summertime, the casted shift of a breeze against the trees and the subsequent rustling of the leaves. If you closed your eyes, you could see the suns shape against your eyelids, reminiscent of laying in a field of flowers as a child, face up towards the sky. If you were quiet enough now to use your imagination passed survival, you could hear it in the recesses of your mind... Crickets... Chirping out a solemn song as your fingertips brushed against grass. Bushes being shuffled through by rabbits on the hunt for succulent berries and the buzzing of insects too close to your ear, but you were too tired to move away from them so you let them be.

You wondered at times... If Five could hear it too... Or did his sound like the hustle and bustle of a city? The constant noise that is ultimately drowned up by sheer will power? The bickering of civilians in the street, the passing of a car too close to the curb and the honk of a car, angry at someone darting across the street nowhere near the cross-walk? You chose to never ask. It always sought as a bitter call towards the past. Those flickering waves of the way the world had been have not dulled out due to time like a faded newspaper and you had to recall that you were stuck in a loop, together apart, together falling inwards like a supernova with each day that was lived. Never admitting verbally to the graces of reality that escaped on the outside, but mentally accepting the way that things were playing out on the inside.

There were some gray days of rain that pounded against your skin, dull and saddened with each rain drop that casted shivers down your spine, noticed and eyes rolled at the human reaction as if he wouldn't react the same way to the elements. Five was fast to snidely comment that you needed to be more astute on your journey. 'Find yourself a goddamn jacket' was mumbled seven years ago as his envy colored irises sneered at the way that water hit against the bare skin of your arms and down to trickle off your fingertips. Like you were something special and magnetic it was being pulled to, he hated the sight and scoffed under his breath.

Those comments and jeers were aplenty the first two years together but you were quick on your feet and learned to never take offense to them. They were... Oddly reassuring now in the twisted way that Five only muttered them to give advice out of care and want to keep you alive. Least, in the last five years that since trailed by and gave way for the comments to begin their decent in bitingness and replaced with fond irritation, you convinced yourself that was the case.

And in return without giving it much thought, you gave him solace in silently bared knowledge that he wasn't traversing this alone, that he was not carrying all of this on his thinned shoulders; the overpowering burden of death that seemed to follow in his shadow. Another prolonged period of time without his family was at least bearable this round due to actual companionship even if it held notes of hostility at times from your dueling personalities that meshed only in certain frequencies.

[agentstarkid]

SAUDADE ✦ DR3

“Saudade” is a Portuguese word that carries a profound and complex meaning, often described as a deep emotional state of longing or nostalgia. It transcends mere language; it's a state of being, an emotion that seeps into the soul and lingers like an echo in the heart. It encompasses a mix of emotions, including melancholy, yearning, and a sense of emptiness, often accompanied by fond memories of past experiences or relationships. In the context of love, "saudade" captures the bittersweet essence of missing someone deeply, even when they are physically present or long after they are gone. It is the ache of the heart that comes from loving and losing, a poignant reminder of the depth of connection and the enduring power of love's impact on our lives.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ PIT BOARD: social media au | ✦ FC: becky g

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, age gap, language, lots of angst, heartbreak, drama, internet meanies, mentions of mental health struggles, assholes.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: uh holi, loves 👀 sorry for the delay, but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter 👀 it's a little short but as present for not posting in March, I present to you: a bonus chapter hehe okay, byeeee *runs away as fast as she can*

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

JANUARY 1, 2022

yourinstagram

📍 Latinoamérica

liked by danielricciardo, badbunnypr, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram Starting the New Year on a bright note! ✨ Wearing yellow to channel optimism and positive energy as we dive into this new year. 💛 I'm so so so grateful for all the love and support you've shown me throughout the past year and I'm excited to continue this journey together in 2022. Here's to another year of growth, laughter, and cherished memories! Siempre para adelante, mi gente! 🎉

───

View all 952.512 comments

───

danielricciardo Mi reina ❤️‍🔥

user1 I wanted to take this space to thank you for the happiness you have brought me over the years. Your music or your works of art have been a constant company in moments of joy, sadness and everything in between. Your talent is enormous, but so is your ability to connect with your fans in a unique way. Your humility and gratitude show that, despite the success, you are still a close and authentic person. Thanks for all that you do!

camila_cabello Good god woman have mercy

kylieminogue you are sensationally exquisite 💛✨

xtina my angel ❤️

user2 jawline could cut a diamond 🥶

user3 muy buena artista pero sobrevalorada respecto a su belleza, y no digo que no sea guapa sino sobrevalorada

user4 you could wear the rainbow if you wanted and that would still not make you relevant or give you any talent

user5 she always tries too hard

user6 watch out for Regina George in sheep's clothing

anitta Feliz ano novo para você Rainha 😘

diplo 💛

user7 the fact that they spent new year's day apart and on different sides of the world speaks volumes

user what? that they both wanted to see their families? grow up

──────

yourinstagram has added to their story!

⥂ translation: Everything I do and comes out of me it's because I'm feeling it, it's okay if no one else feels the same way. Two people can never ever feel the same at the same time.

────────────────────────

JANUARY 16, 2022

danielricciardo

📍 Perth, Australia

liked by yourinstagram, heidiberger_, natalie_pinkham and 1,562 others

danielricciardo Back seat baby seat bangers 🎶

tagged: yourinstagram

───

View all 256.254 comments

───

yourinstagram this is all anyone needs to have a great day ❤️ please send me his manager's contact, I've been looking for a male backing vocal for my next album and I think he can be the perfect choice 😌

danielricciardo yourinstagram ah, you see, he's a really sought-after artist so he's super busy. But I know his uncle and he's interested on the job, only thing is that he likes to be paid with kisses 💋😏 yourinstagram danielricciardo tell him to contact me, I think we will be able to work out the payment details soon 😌

yourinstagram btw how is it possible that he's that big now if I saw him like yesterday and he was this 🤏🏽 small 🥺❤️

user1 is the copying the hand movements for me 😂❤️

user2 so this is how Y/N's future is gonna look like 👀

userA all that's missing is the ring 👀 userB yeah danielricciardo stop being lazy my friend 👀

user3 you're gonna be a great dad one day ❤️🥺

♥ yourinstagram has liked this comment

user4 siempre dije que no quiero ser mamá, pero después de ver esto... yourinstagram mi reina quién pudiera ser vos 😮‍💨

user5 coisa mais linda! ❤️

user6 Daniel really sang his heart out to that song lmao

user7 you have really shit taste in music mate

────────────────────────

FEBRUARY 4, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, keleighteller, natalie_pinkham and 1,238,562 others

yourinstagram Te amo con el alma, porque el alma nunca muere ❤️ happy 2 years, mi Danielito 🥰

⥂ translation: I love you with my whole soul, because the soul never dies ❤️

───

View all 19.598 comments

───

danielricciardo My forever partner in crime ❤️

user1 cuide a ese hombre yourinstagram, que tu y yo no somos amigas 🫡

user2 oh God I'm so single 😩

mileycyrus so much love and happiness for you both ❤️❤️❤️

user3 THAT LAST PHOTO IT'S GIVING I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS 😭 SO 1 + 1 = THEY ARE GETTING ENGAGED‼️‼️

userA I'm so calling it, it is happening 🤩

user4 LIL BLAKE SIGHTING 😍😍😍

hermusicofficial favs

user5 she was talking seriously when she recorded A mi me gustan mayores 😅

userA será que aplica el "A mí me gustan más grandes. Que no me quepa en la boca..." con él?? 👀👀👀 yourinstagram userA los besos que quiera darme? 👀 sí, aplica 🤭😈 userB OMFG Y/N???!!! LMAOOO iamdannaschwarz yourinstagram that's enough internet for you today 🙅🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

chloestroll did he really cook? 😂

yourinstagram chloestroll he did! and it was really good actually 🥰 I felt ✨spoiled✨

oliviarodrigo mom and dad 💜

user6 the first pic is making me feel something. i don't know how to put that something into words though 🥵 *bi panics*

userA JUST A BIG FUCKING OOF I GUESS 🥵 userB they served cunt as per usual userC I grunted and groaned and moaned 🫠😩

user7 I'm so tired of them omg yeah, you're "in love", we see you, now stop shoving it at our faces every chance you have 🙄

fioamato congrats Sandy and Danny 😜💖

iamdannaschwarz Baby and Danny 😜💖 itsvittoriasousa nah, more like Troy and Gabriella landonorris Belle and the Beast 😜 yourinstagram landonorris aww did littol landow nowis just called me beautiful? 👀😊 landonorris nvm I take it back. Fiona and Shrek* 😌 yourinstagram landonorris well that makes you the donkey 😂

user8 every time I remember that there's a 9 year gap between them I wanna puke 🤮

───

danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram, martingarrix, landonorris and 1,562 others

danielricciardo happy 2 years mi vida ❤️

───

View all 2.689 comments

───

user "mi vida" brb gonna go chew on a live wire 😭

yourinstagram let's do this for a lifetime ❤️♾️

danielricciardo you have yourself a deal, Chip ❤️

user2 hey God, it's me again...

martingarrix ❤️❤️❤️

user3 these adorable videos ending with daniel squeezing y/n's butt is so dan-y/n core 🥹😝

marcusstoinis congrats, lovebirds ❤️

user4 did they leave their own love lock on the fence? 🥹😭

userA I don't think we'll ever find it, but I'm sure they did 😭

landonorris congrats on putting up with him this long yourinstagram ❤️

joshallenqb 🍾❤️

user5 somethin something "find a beautiful love, make sure they know they are your morning light" playing while the sunset iluminates her and cutting to "and that you'll never let go till the day that you die" while he has his arms around her 😭😭😭

userA THIS HERE IS LOVE 😭 THIS HERE IS LIFE 😭 userB something something he's got a tattoo of that song's title 😭 userC somebody get me a fucking doctor I feel like my heart is about to burst

scottyjames31 my favorite celebrity couple 😌

caamp we love you guys ❤️

user5 grandpa copping a feel 🤢

────────────────────────

FEBRUARY 10, 2022

────────────────────────

FEBRUARY 22, 2022

yourinstagram has added to their story!

────────────────────────

MARCH 8, 2022

────────────────────────

MARCH 9, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by mclaren, georgerussell63, heidi_berger and 584,981 others

danielricciardo Better this week than next… Unfortunate to miss the test, but I’m starting to feel better. I’ll stay isolated and just focus on next weekend. Big thanks to Lando & McLaren for the heavy lifting, I owe you some beers (milk for Lando). Appreciate the well wishes from everyone as well.

───

View all 164.254 comments

───

landonorris get well soon mate!

georgerussell63 speedy recovery danny ric 💪🏻

user did you and Y/N broke up??? please tell me it's a lie

user2 Y/N hasn't liked nor comment yet and it's been 2 whole days since he posted this

userA why whould she? they are quarantining together, she doesn't need to comment or liked every single post he makes. They are probably sitting side by side right now userB userA there's actually rumours that she was seen leaving the hotel in a rush yesterday and fans are already speculating if they broke up

user3 I hope you feel better soon Dan! I know we all wish to see you in action next weekend!!

user4 "milk for Lando" lmaooo i love them your honor <3

user5 this is your year mate don't let any setbacks bring you down 💪🏻

────────────────────────

MARCH 18, 2022

───

────────────────────────

MARCH 25, 2022

f1wags

liked by 3,474 others

f1wags It seems Danny Ricc has moved on quickly 👀 Just after a week since the confirmation of his break up with Y/N, a few fans have reported sightings of the driver with actress Heidi Berger —who has been linked to him a few times these past months— around Monaco.

The blonde is the daughter of former Austrian F1 driver Gerhard Berger and former Portuguese model Ana Corvo.

This love triangle drama just keeps getting juicier and more complicated! 🔥 What are you thoughts, did the Aussie cheated on his ex-girlfriend as some people say? Did he moved on too fast? or did he do the right thing? Let us know in the comments!

───

View all 55 comments

───

user I actually feel bad for Y/N, not a fan of hers at all but it must be hard to see the man you were talking of marriage with a month ago, move on from your relationship so quickly and easily. if it were me in her shoes, I know it'd really mess my head up 😕

user2 idc if he'd not been with Heidi physically while being with Y/N, it's still treason to be emotionally involved with someone else while you're in a relationship. I believe he already had feelings for Heidi while still being with Y/N because how the fuck can you move on from a whole 2-year relationship in two weeks?? I only hope Y/N is doing okay and that she gets to heal and find someone better for her 😞

user3 you can try to defend him with all the arguments you can think of but at the end of the day, he is still just a rich man. It's funny how you've been all pointing fingers at the innocent while playing lawyer to the guilty.

user4 I'm a Danny Ricc fan but I think this was too fast too soon, at least have some respect for your ex who stood by your side through the highs and lows of the past years, smh so disappointed

user5 Get over it already! He moved on to someone better, as he should. Let the poor man alone! He's been single for weeks! He's allowed to see anyone he wants! Stop whining about it, Y/N just wasn't enough, as simple as that 🤷🏽‍♀️

user6 I'm actually super worried for him, he's not himself lately. Just a few weeks ago he was calling Y/N the love of his life and now this? All jokes aside, I think he's self-sabotaging. He looks like a shell of his old-self, he is not smiling as bright as before, he's super quiet now and if you pay attention to him during interviews, he fidgets a lot and sounds so insecure when asked about his driving. GO TO THERAPY BABE!!!

userA you are reaching, babe! lmaoooo he's fine, he just got tired of that snake 🤪

────────────────────────

APRIL 2, 2022

─────

───

────────────────────────

APRIL 4, 2022

────────────────────────

APRIL 22, 2022

────────────────────────

MAY 3, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by corey_wilson, michaelitaliano, mclaren and 269,852 others

danielricciardo Miami. We made it.

───

View all 658.214 comments

───

user i guess this is the confirmation we've been waiting for

user2 how can you move on from a 2 year relationship so fast??

user3 ugh men are so fucking unbelievable

userA jokes on all those whiny fangirls of his, turns out it wasn't he who deserved better, it was HER.

user4 he is a joke just like his driving lmao

user5 Heidi is so much better than that wannabe singer, she was just a plaything for him 🤣

user6 I'm so glad you opened up your eyes daniel

user7 so all those rumours have been true smh y'all were attacking Y/N nonestop for the smallest interactions with the opposite sex, and none of those rumours proved to be true but I'm not seeing the same energy directed towards him now that the rumours about him were actually true!

user8 I just know that the break up album is gonna be a banger 🔥🤪

───

This post has been deleted

────────────────────────

MAY 10, 2022

yourinstagram has added to their story!

────────────────────────

JUNE 19, 2022

───

⇥ youtube search: falling (harry & y/n's duet version) - love on tour, london night 1

────────────────────────

JUNE 22, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by markhoppus, phoebebridgers, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram burned other memories just to make room for these ones 🎞️❤️‍🔥

───

View all 75.364 comments

───

user HI MOTHER!! WELCOME BACK WE MISSED YOU ❤️❤️❤️

user1 we love to see you living your best life!!! 🥰

user2 Can't wait to listen to the full version of the song she plays on the last slide 🤩

userA Daniel Ricciardo is shaking in his boots right now 🤪

machinegunkelly 🖤🥀🤘🏼

user3 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

markhoppus kid what are you holding on your lap and why it isn't on my liquor shelf yet? 🤨

yourintagram sorry dad 😔 it's on its way to your doorstep right now 🤪 skyehoppus yourintagram make sure you are also included on the package arriving at our door, it's been too long honey ❤️ userA “dad”??? she knows mark hoppus?? what did i miss?? 😳 userB userA they have an on-going joke that mark found her wandering around and adopted her as one of the few blink-182's children along alex gaskarth and jack barakat from all time low 😂 she's super close with his family, too! I remember she collab on a song with him, but they didn't released it and then it got leaked, she did play it at a couple of concerts tho userC userB is it 'thank you & goodnight'? 👀 userB userC YES! I miss her pop-punk era 😔 that version she did of 'little lion man' was soooo good!!

user4 Baby Iza is on her way to hit a bitch (Daniel)

alexalbon I like pizza too 👀🍕

lilymhe sorry baby, bad bitches only 💅🏻

user5 OMG OMG WE'VE GOT HARRY, TAYLOR AND Y/N IN ONE POST?! THE HOLY TRINITY RIGHT THERE 😍

harrystyles ❤️

user6 I've got my two mothers in one photo 😭❤️

taylorswift Ms. Falls-a-lot 👻❤️

yourinstagram I swear I'm gonna scare you too next time 🙄😂

lilymhe walking among legends on this post 🙇🏻‍♀️ #blessed 🙏🏻

user6 I'm so happy that she's finally back ❤️ we need to flood her comment section with love 🥰

user7 Drama queen of this generation. Always playing the victim & tricking people into thinking that she's a mental health advocate. You're way too far from that. Cancel her 👍🏻🐍

user8 the caption: ICONIC 🔥

userA the taxi driver is twisting on his grave 😂🤪

user9 the old Y/N can't come to the phone right now, why? Oh 'cause she's DEAD! 😎

user10 most untalented celeb ever

fioamato where was my invitation? 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz

iamdannaschwarz you got one, you just decided to ditch us for mr. i-have-an-art-gallery 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz yessss expose her, dannita! 🤭 No te hagas de la víctima, mi corazón. We've got the receipts 😎🧾 fioamato I hate you both 🙄

user11 you should be ashamed to post a photo holding a tequila bottle when so many young people follow you. You should be a role model to them, not another alcoholic celebrity 🙄

user12 babygirl I hope you are doing better and feeling great! You deserve so much more ❤️

userA she's as fabulous as ever while he's floping big time, I call that karma 💅 userB not many people know how to truly appreciate the unique sazón and sabor of a Latina 🔥 homeboy couldn't handle the heat 🤭

user13 I know that album is gonna be 🔥🔥🔥

user14 attention seeker no wonder you always get dump for someone better

────────────────────────

JUNE 30, 2022

Video — CLEAN SHEET KINGS | STONES & DIAS

─────

─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡

[shuenkio]

𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 🎞️

Paring: Enha X male!reader

Genre: fictional.

Cw: obsession behavior, swearing (likely similar to yandere)

Summary: The richest boy's down bad for you so bad.

இLHS : He would be the mafia's son. Randomly saw you one day during his mission, grabbed his attention and wanted to get to know you more. Day by day, his obsession grows an unhealthy amount eventually until he wanna make you his without having no one to take you away from him. Despite being a male it is even better for him.

"Money, power, fame? I can give you everything even my body, just by being mine"

இPJS : He would be the gangster's son. However he didn't take the same path as his parents, instead he was the best chief in the country. He might look nice on the outside but he's also wild. You were one of the customers in his restaurant who visited regularly eventually he caught a feeling, but not you. He asks his parent worker to spy on you every day. Until.

"I can cook, I can clean but I can also be your husband too, my knife is sharp enough to cut someone if they're trying to steal you away from me! I fucking like you!"

இSJY : He would be the lawyer's son. He likes going out, to bars, girls, and clubs until his eyes lean on you, a poor new worker barista who working at his favorite bar. He immediately loves at first sight but in a naughty way. Not only he's stalking you, but he is already planned about how his life with you.

"Poor didn't suit you, married me you'll get everything you want darling, idc even if you have a dick"

இPSH : He would be the surgeon's son. Despite being his neighbors you often visit his house to give him company as his parents request. He is no longer feeling lonely and being loved by you, growing insanely jealous even when you're with your family more than him, yes. Until one day, he locks the door.

"There's no leaving until you take me as your boyfriend >:("

இKSN : He would be the psychologist's son. He might look lovely, kind, and cute but deep down he can also manipulate you. He has grown fond of you ever since you accidentally kissed his cheeks. He realized he was in love or more than love. Until one day he fools you by saying he was injured at his apartment, you rush to see him but when you step inside, he immediately locks the door and breaks the room access card into pieces.

"Give your BFF a hug, I missed you too much, my sarang(love)"

இYJW : He would be the 5-star Officer's son. The adorable face of him not only makes him look pitiful but also drives you to trust him. Fortunately, his planned work. You trust him too badly until he takes full advantage of you. You open your eyes to realize you're in his room.

"Scream it m/n my father is an officer, I could just use one trick on you, you're over but not unless you kiss me on my lip, now!"

இNSR : He would be the Data scientist's son. He likes a lot of things but he chooses to stick to his hobby for the time being, a photographer. Just a simple kindness from you during the heavy rain, you offered him an umbrella, His world turned pink unexpectedly. Ever since then his love for you grows dangerously until his room is full of your pictures.

"Pictures are not enough, I needed you to be here, my beautiful art"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ CRD TO ALL PICS&DIVIDERS

🥹 SUNGHOON FF LATERALLY BLOW OUT MY PHONE Y'ALL LIKES IT SO MUCH? THANKS YOU !

[autistichalsin]

Do you ever just... think about how Halsin's life at the Grove was not only lonely and full of pressure, but also so full of expectations that the image Halsin had to cultivate of himself was nothing like who he was?

Everyone at the Grove only seemed to know of him as a leader, scholar, healer, and powerful Druid. In truth, he hated the first, understood the importance of the second but did not actually enjoy it, was proud of the third but again, didn't consider it part of his identity, and rarely acknowledged the fourth as anything but a way to serve nature.

Even in the way they addressed him it quickly became clear it wasn't who he was. Halsin NEVER shows any comfort using the title of "Master Halsin"; it was a title the others used for him that he reluctantly went along with. The instant he leaves the Grove, he never uses it again. He's just Halsin.

He may have been fond of some of the Druids at the Grove, and most of the others were fond of him right back (hell, even Kagha, if she is pushed away from the Shadow Druids, and then learns that Halsin perished in the goblin pen, laments that she will really miss him)... but none of them saw him. What they saw was a mask he had to wear, a role he had to play, because he had to. Because he was forced to and no one wanted the role back. (And seriously, he was desperate to give it up. It took his Grove nearly being taken over by the Shadow Druids and Halsin having to leave to help end a potentially world-ending threat for them to agree to send a replacement. You can't tell me the guy didn't try to pawn the position off before, only for his Circle to say "no".)

The refugees see him as a protector (which he is) but as the leader, as the most powerful one. The Druids see him as a lot of things- a leader, good or bad; some see him as weak and a failure, others see him as beyond a reproach and someone to put on a pedestal; they see him as the BEST healer of all, the most POWERFUL Druid they know, the SMARTEST, the STRONGEST, an "elf with the presence of a bear"...

But the one thing he can't be around them is "just Halsin."

He couldn't even trust any of them with the full truth when he discovered the altered tadpole; Nettie had suspicions, but he didn't tell her the full truth, he immediately swore off telling Kagha with the reasoning that she would demand answers he couldn't provide (expecting too much from him), and in fact, he was so worried about this that he split his notes into two.

So then along comes the player, who first finds him in an extremely vulnerable position- being tortured by goblins. Halsin says in as many words that he didn't think anyone was coming for him. Halsin didn't think the people he was charged to lead and protect cared enough for him to mount a rescue mission- and he was tragically right. (Granted, for some it was a matter of fear, inexperience, etc, but the fact remains.) The player rescues him, treats him as an equal despite this (and that's what he wants, he wants to be an equal with some expertise to share, not a leader), helps him to correct what he sees as the biggest mistake of his life, possibly pursues a romantic relationship with him where they are kind enough to not even hold it against him where he loses control of his powers and accidentally polymorphs during sex, and, in the newly added post-Drow scene, offers him guidance and counsel on something he's been unable to talk about for over 100 years, admitting that he lost perspective on it for just this reason. He had no peers and was forced into a leadership role so stressful that it made him romanticize his past as a sex slave in his own head because he was that desperate to not be responsible for the wellbeing of others, to not be relied on- even if the alternative was being treated as literal property and his autonomy repeatedly violated. That's how desperate he was.

Halsin's entire arc is how he's been lonely and isolated, always in different ways, but still the same thing. Misunderstood and scorned for his size, or kept as a prisoner, or with few friends, or losing his peers, or being forced into a leadership role with no equals or friends to take care of him, or so focused on his leadership duties that the chance to have a family (which he wanted desperately) passed him by... just one thing after another.

And then people wonder why he falls in love with the player so fast. The player is literally EVERYTHING he has been wishing for for over 100 years, not just in the romantic sense, but for everything. All he wanted was someone who would let him be HIMSELF, no pressures or responsibilities he was woefully unequipped to fulfill.

[anxious-lee]

Ask || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: what can I say? they inspire me. you know what else inspires me? the agonizing lack of content there is for them 💀

Ship: Huskerdust

No beta, we die for our craft

Word count: 1,720

------

One wouldn't typically think of obnoxious behavior as out of character for Angel Dust, but this was a tad excessive. In a way that spells out exactly what he wants, if you know what to look for.

Angel had a very particular set of needs, some being more overt than others, but one facet of his desire was not known to many. Ironically, his incessant jabber of licking holes and getting punished weren't nearly as vulnerable as this information was. He never told his nightly flings, he never told Valentino, and he rarely became close enough to anyone to be able to share.

Angel Dust, the world-renowned porn star, loved to be tickled.

Now, some might say this could very easily fit into his menagerie of BDSM kinks. But that's what was so humiliating. It wasn't a kink. It wasn't sexy. It was romantic. Even downright fond.

His need would be fulfilled from time to time as partners or clients sought playfulness, but he wouldn't bring up his appreciation of it. Merely went along with and pretended to hate it. How far that was from the truth.

The obvious downside to this, of course, is that no one is available to satisfy your lee moods. Like today, for example.

The minute Angel woke up, he knew today was going to be one of those days.

The thoughts were driving him mad. He needed someone to hold him and touch him and take away his control in a way that had nothing to do with pain or power. It was about trust and love and sharing and fucking christ, does he sound like a hippie.

The thought of telling Husk did cross his mind, seeing as how they were now a month into their relationship, but he quickly banished it to where all the other scary thoughts go. Surely, he would laugh at him or look at him with disgust.

He couldn't risk it this time.

Not with Husk.

Not with him.

Fortunately, there was an option B. You see, he already loved to get on people's nerves, and that happened to be the most successful way to get tickled. As retribution.

The hotel guests, of course, didn't pick up on Angel's different behavior. They merely gave him a smirk or an eye-roll, but nothing more. Except, of course, Husk.

----

Angel sauntered over to the bar counter where his pussycat was busy at work polishing bottles.

"Mornin', Whiskers. Did ya dream of me?" Angel said, batting his eyelashes.

Husk chuckled. "Yeah, I did. It was the noisiest dream of my afterlife."

Angel gasped in mock offense and pouted. "I thought you liked our little chats!"

"I do when I'm not working. Just sit tight until I'm on my break, we can go cuddle as much as you want then, okay?"

"But that's sooo long from now!"

Returning to his bottles, Husk half-turned away from Angel, who was growing antsy.

He waited a couple of moments, then very swiftly poked his bartender in the arm.

"Baby, I can't talk right now, I'm busy."

Another poke.

"Fuck, can't you wait 5 minutes?" Husk sighed with a hint of annoyance.

It seemed to be working. One more push should send him over the edge.

Angel plucked the rag out of Husk's paw and held it out of his reach.

Husk finally turned to face his boyfriend.

Was this it? Was he gonna snap and tickle him senseless for pestering him?

The cat leaned forward, grabbed the rag, and went back to his task after giving Angel a tired glare.

It was obvious to the spider that his lover wouldn't bite. Defeated, he left the bar to find something else to distract himself with.

----

It was a few hours later when Angel found himself cuddled up next to Husk watching a movie. It was some crime boss flick, something-or-other. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't paying much attention to it. The incessant thoughts of laughter and smiles spun 'round his head, keeping his focus off of the gunfight happening on-screen.

On impulse, Angel started playing with Husk's ears, plucking and pulling and flicking in any way he could to get a rise out of him.

"What the- stop! I'm trying to watch." The cat said.

"I ain't doing nothing~"

Next, Angel gave a teensy little push to Husk's tophat, just enough to put it off-center.

"If you're that bored, why'd you pick this movie?" Was the reply.

"Who said I was bored? I'm very entertained," Angel said.

And finally, he twirled his finger around the tail beside him like a spaghetti noodle and gave it a tug.

That seemed to do the trick. Husk's face whipped to meet Angel's.

"What is going on with you? You've been pressing my buttons all day. What's the matter? You feeling friskier than normal or somethin'?" Husk was confused, and annoyed certainly, but more than anything, curious. This wasn't typical Angel Dust behavior. This was a cry for help. In regards to what, he had no idea.

Angel certainly wasn't giving him any help. "I don't know what you're talking about," he quipped with a smile tugging at his lips.

Husk watched him for a moment, then seemingly gave up and returned to cuddling in front of the movie.

It only frustrated Angel more. What was with this guy?! It didn't normally take THIS much effort to instigate a good tickle fight! And the cuddling made everything worse. Like waving a bone in front of a dog. He was given just enough touch to drive him crazy but not enough to satisfy his hunger.

----

Several days had gone by, and Angel's lee mood persisted, and Husk still wasn't taking the bait. The spider began to wonder if he would ever get tickled again at this rate.

One night, the two sinners were sitting in bed together, being on their phones or reading. It was quiet nights in with each other like these that they treasured more than anything.

Angel had lost almost all hope of actually getting tickled. No matter what he tried to get Husk's goat, nothing worked. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Husk was so enraptured by the book in front of him that he didn't notice the mischievous look creeping onto his boyfriend's face.

Angel snatched the book out from Husk's nose and dangled it in front of him. "Why would you want to look at some ol' book when you could be looking at meee~?"

Husk gave the usual huff and eye-roll.

Angel waited for a moment, then set the book aside in order to sprawl across Husk's lap with his hands supporting his head.

"What's the matter, Whiskers?" He emphasized the provoking nickname. "Am I botherin' ya?"

Angel pursed his lips and gave the kitty's nose a boop.

For a moment, it was silent as Husk looked down at his lover in what looked to be...

An epiphany.

Then came the chuckle.

"You know, if you wanted it so bad, you coulda just asked," Husk sultry said.

What?

What did that-

Angel didn't have time to finish the thought before Husk's claws were dancing nimbly on his sides. He squealed in startlement, and the giggles came flowing out. As much as his body wanted to worm and wriggle away from the touch, his heart was exactly where it wanted to be. Where he needed to be. But what Husk had said-

"Whahat does thahahat mehehean?!" The spider queried.

"Don't act like you haven't been trying to provoke me into ticklin' you this whole time. Honestly, it all seems kinda obvious now," Husk laughed, "Can't believe I didn't piece it together sooner."

Wait, he knew?!

Abort, abort, abort!

"I dohont know whahahat you're tahahalking abohohout!"

"Relax, I ain't judging," Husk assured warmly, "I've heard of far stranger things than a pesky little brat who wants to relinquish control every now and then. 'Sides, I can't say it's not adorable." His voice took on a more teasing tone at that last statement.

And Angel noticed it.

His face began burning hellfire red as the claws at his sides still scribbled furiously, and his giggles now elevated to laughter.

"Ihihit's NOHOHOT!" Angel cried indignantly.

"Uh huh. And what do you call this?" Husk darted his hands up to the spider's neck and scritched and scratched into every nook and cranny he could reach.

Glass could shatter at the pitch Angel shrieked. His chortles returned to snickers and giggles as he tried to invert his head into his body like a turtle. What's more, he even began to 'tee-hee'. Like a coquettish little school girl. How humiliating.

"Seems pretty cute to me~," Husk cooed with a saccharine smile.

Angel couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

"I've never seen this smile on you before! Maybe I should tickle you all the time."

Definitely loved it.

Husk ran his claws down from his neck to his shoulders all the way down to his underarms.

The spider's arms snapped with the strength of a bear trap. He screeched with all his might and began to cackle. This was the most pleasant hell he's ever been in! His face-splitting grin wasn't just from all the laughing. He hoped Husk knew that.

The cat in question jumped at the loud noise. "Woah! Didn't realize this was a bad spot. You okay down there?" His fingers slowing for a second.

Angel could not nod fast enough.

Husk could feel his icy heart melting. Christ, the things this boy did to him. He'd keep this up all night if it kept Angel happy and free and forgetful of his troubles.

"Alright, just let me know when you've had enough," and with that, Husk tickled his pits harder than he did before, "But next time, just ask for this instead of purposely getting on my nerves. I'd rather just give you the love without the headache, okay baby?"

And he did.

It wasn't easy for Angel, but part of this new dynamic was learning to trust each other, hoping that the other would catch them when they fell. Every moment they spent together proved that they would.

But for now, all that was left was Angel's blissful laughter, Husk's light-hearted teases, and five nosy tennants listening in from beyond the door.

-------

The more tickle scenes I write, the harder it is to think of new things to say lol 😅

Thank you all so much for the kind feedback, you guys are why I write ❤️

[shaisuki]

— NO SUNLIGHT FOR THE CAGED

ENTRY #002 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. YAKUZA! OSAMU MIYA + SHIBARI

— shibari is a japanese style of bondage, it's known as a kink but it's more than that. It's a kind of art, while tying the rope around someone's body you're making different patterns and connecting with that person.

• pairing: osamu miya x chubby reader

• content warnings: yakuza au, yandere themes, pwp, shibari (bondage), dark themes, reader is a bastard, power imbalances, noncon, dubcon.

freedom is what you yearned for a long time but osamu miya won't let you get the freedom you deserved, now you belong to him.

days are gone in the blink of an eye while you stare at the spacious garden. walking in the same hallways was different.

it seems like yesterday with you and the the twins were frolicking there. spent playing the game of tag and gawking at the koi fishes swimming — tails swishing, creating ripples in the pond.

now there's no love nor fondness thinking about it. memories about being a child gives the illusion of being happy without a care in the world. temporarily.

as a child you thought nothing would change. that atsumu and osamu would be still your dear friends. that they will be the the same people you'll grow up with. you love them wholeheartedly. never did it crossed your mind one day, your dear tsumu and samu would change. you came to terms of it. they were meant to be that day as the next head of the miya clan and you — a bastard have no place for it.

and who are you to complain, you were born a bastard after all. in the world where family matters the most and influenced a organization, bastards like you have no place for it. maybe if you were born male, your father would maybe favor you a bit and that would been fine — you would have a purpose.

instead you were born a woman. engraved with the roles that you are nothing without men. that you will have value of being a wife, a mother and you don't want that. clinging to a hope that someday you will live a long, fulfilling life and escaping this place would be the first step on making that true, achieving the life you wanted. counting the days until you'll know what freedom is.

the halls were empty. where only shadows of a gleeful childhood witnessed the laughter and squeals of once lively halls. a remnant of the past that you will never see again.

“there's nothing for me here.” you would whisper where only the walls could hear you.

it all began when the twins grew distant of you. as heirs they are being prepared of the duties and responsibilities they would take once their father would step down as being the head of the miya clan.

atsumu was the first then osamu. you didn't knew atsumu for the first time he mocked you and reminded of your place. his voice tearing your heart apart. his disdain and disappointment were made for you and osamu, although he didn't say a word. his gaze tells otherwise. atsumu would snarl at you but osamu would look at you once, twice and a shrug is enough to tear your heart in shreds. the regret and disgust for meeting you, for simply existing. a nobody in his life.

what affection and sincere smile were long gone, replaced with the nasty remarks and the jeers. passing in the hallways only to get shoved or not ignored, not even once needed the memories of the bond shared.

it won't be long. you say to yourself. you needed a plan to escape this place. without looking back. a new life for yourself. free from the duties that is forced to you. a freedom for yourself.

watching the hands of the clock ticks by left you restless. a few belongings packed safely in your bag. you didn't have much, a few trinkets and such. tucked away in the corner of your room. a few more hours and freedom. you needed to tend things with the gathering of the constituents and allies of the miya clan tonight and after that, you are free. they wouldn't notice you. a nobody.

their noisy cheers and not so discreet of plans echoed in the common room along in the hallways. your father was also there. who had no interest to his bastard of a daughter.not even batting an eyelash as his daughter poured warm sake in his cup. downing it with eagerness and going back to their conversation. you continued to serve them along with the hope that you will be free tonight.

your heart pounds along with your sharp intakes of breath. come on now. it's now or never. you don't need to dwell yourself in trivial things. they were going to be too drunk or wouldn't give a care to you leaving. they could easily replace you.

this is the time while you leave in the back, you can see the tori as you approach getting bigger. this is it. when you walked past in that tori you will be free.

“where do you think yer going?”

don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.

you don't want to look and only to find samu's gaze staring at you. maybe, you could look at those eyes of his. it's been years since you've look at them and seeing it would be goodbye. a farewell.

turning around, clutching your bag in your hands. you face him, looking straight in his eyes. not even acknowledging how handsome he is in his black montsuki.

“away from here.”

“i didn't take you for being stupid. what made you think that yer leaving this place? how stupid.”

grey eyes twinkles in amusement. watching as your body squirm while the ropes tightens in your limbs. finally, he can use this skills he acquired from a long time ago. giving purpose to his fondness of ropes and to you.

he would be much gentler to you. if it weren't the act of you leaving him. how stupid for you to leave him. to think you have the will to leave him and the snap of ropes hitting your skin is the kind of mark that breaks your skin. let the punishment fit the crime of trying to escape from his grasps.

“samu, please. i don't want any of this.” you pleaded.

he remained silent. his fingers weaving the rope like a spider to it's web. gliding the rope in your skin while you're sprawled in the floor. his hakama pooling in his waist. showing the dragon tattoos etched in his left arm and to his abdomen and chest. toned and leaned his body is. proudly showing you what he's made of as he manipulates the rope in his own will.

the younger miya keeps his eyes glazed to your supple body. the rope digging in your soft skin. tugging the ropes to create tension to your flesh. feel it. embrace it. there's no use how you wiggled your wrists. the more you try. the tighter the rope clings to your skin.

a work of art, he would say. your body tangled in the red ropes minus the squirming. satisfied with his handiwork. samu pulls the rig above you. your body rising above and he can see the panic in your eyes. it wouldn't let you down if that's what you think. stupid for you to think that it'll fall when this is all made for you to think that you knew all of him. it's a dumb claim for you that you will own him. that you will be able to manipulate him with a simple pout of your plump lips. long gone with all the games and he got you wrapped around his fingers.

you were suspended in the air. limbs aching and burning that you can't almost feel it. osamu walks around you. admiring his work, his gaze fell to your body bound by the bright, red ropes and he can finally take all the frustrations he felt for years. face devoid of any emotions and you're afraid when osamu's like this. far much worse than his older twin.

lips pursed into a thin line while his knuckles grazed the skin in your cheek. you didn't meet his gaze. recoiling upon the contact of his skin to your and that osamu didn't like it one bit.

patience thinning out at your stubbornness. osamu grasped your jaw before pulling it close to him. meeting his piercing gaze that leaves your soul trembling. it's all pure territorial with death awaiting to those who dares to enter. his breath tickling in your face.

“and where would you go?” he began to inquire you. “you hold no position. no name for yourself. no property for you to own. you are nothing. you—”

“i know!” you interrupt him and osamu didn't like being interrupted but he lets you. “i'm aware all of that. you don't need to remind and you should have let me —”

“go? I won't allow it. you belong here and no place on earth would replace that. even you're gone, i'll find you. you forgot how powerful i am — princess.” the nickname leaves you breathless. you forgot he calls you that besides your name and it made you smile a little, bitterly. your samu was still here.

“i should tie you up more often.” he says, adoring the work while his hands runs to the expanse of your body. “i wonder what sound you'll make if i do this.” he teases, pinching the hardened bud, earning a delicious moan coming from you and that made him chuckle. “where else? i know you were always a slut, princess.” pulling the rope a little tighter and he can see the indents in your skin.

“dripping wet, are we?” he taunts. rubbing your puffy, soaked folds with his fingers covered with your slick. “please, samu” you whined. begging for more friction. begging for him to give your neglected pussy with attention.

your resolution of escaping dissipating like bubbles. you can never escape samu and you're dream of freedom was a mere child's dream. you're bound to him.

“bad girls don't get to cum, princess. if you only submitted to me earlier i might have.” plunging his finger to your hole and the tears begin to pour from your eyes. pumping his fingers in a lazy manner before pulling it out. admiring his slick-covered fingers.

catching you in his arms before whispering. “don't ever think of leaving me again.” and you nod immediately.

you won't be seeing the sunlight again along with the freedom you desperately yearned for.