#then the babys born and it has black hair and dark eyes and very much looks like michael and adams like. hm. cool!

[michaelectras]

in my head midam have three kids and none of them look like adam

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

The Blood is Rare

Summary: Aemond has always loathed his niece, and the feeling is very much mutual | Words: 3.3k | Warnings below the cut!

Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, choking, slight knife play, biting, bitta blood, incest (character is described with strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping?

There was no plate at his spot at the table. No knife to tempt him. He would not break bread with those he could not trust.

Like an animal atop high ground, he sits rigid at the head of the table, on the outside unnervingly calm. But he watches with a keen eye the prey that sits at the other end.

She shares many features with her mother. His whore-sister. Her stubbornness, her determined gaze and the nervous twisting of the rings on each of her fingers into the bargain. 

Had she not the dark brown, near-black shade of waved hair atop her head and bright, clear blue eyes of the former Commander of the City Watch, his niece and his sister would look nearly identical.

Unfortunately, they both shared his hatred for them as well.

He loathed the idea of them all. The birth of one mere brown-haired bastard was enough, and yet there were three of them, sat together in unification, as if to put up defences against the opposite side of the table, dotted with the moonlight-silver of Alicent Hightower’s children.

He smirked at the thought that she came mere hours after Jace. That she was unplanned. Unwanted. And yet here she existed, sitting with her eyes fixed on a flickering candle, trying to drown out the laughs, smiles and the oddity that was all of them all gathered together, enjoying one another’s company.

He knew as well as she did. It was the only thing they had in common. That they could see through this charade.

Aemond wondered if she had always seen it. Understood it. The strife that would happen between them. Perhaps she was a dreamer and could envisage the future before it had even happened.

She was a melancholic, hateful little thing. Born with fire and fury.

He supposed if anything, she was still the daughter of a Targaryen.

Aemond swore she was a witch of sorts. For she must have felt his gaze on her, and her clear eyes were illuminated by the dancing flame as they met him. Her expression unchanged.

His smirk grew that they felt the same about each other.

He was the cunt son of Alicent Hightower.

And she was the Strong bastard of his whore-sister.

Not breaking eye contact, she raised her chin, looking down at him over her nose, huffing as she turned away to sip from the cup on her small, delicate fingers.

Stuck up cunt.

The atmosphere shifted considerably as Viserys groaned, a frail hand raised to the injured portion of his face, to which Aemond felt a sick sense of delight. The guards swiftly carried him away by each corner of his chair.

And the gap between Rhaenyra and Alicent seemed to push each side away further. Irreparably so.

His niece did not appreciate his tribute to her and her brothers.

Throughout the evening, she had said few words apart from mumbled whispers to Daemon on her right and Luke on her left. But when Aemond stood to speak, he revelled in her undivided attention. In those angry eyes, he saw not only a loathing for him, but a loathing at the truth of what she was.

A loathing that he was right, and she knew it.

She seemed almost as disappointed as her mother when Jace struck him weakly.

And before Daemon could place himself between the warring factions of their family, he watched the Strong Princess march angrily away, her skirts in her hands, flashing a stern glare before she left.

Her eyes were all he could think about, with her face anchored in the firm grip of his fingers.

He thought she was so small and fragile, that he could just squeeze and break her little jaw, her bones clattering between his fingers like pebbles. And yet she still looked at him with such fire, that only one of Targaryen blood would be able to throw.

She looked at him like he was the most loathsome creature she had ever seen.

The passageway Aemond had her cornered into was stifling and suffocating, forcing them to breathe the same humid air in anger. He saw her face redden where he had her in his grasp, her glossy lips slightly parted to breathe.

“I will extend you the courtesy of assuming there is a very good reason why you have your hands on me like this, Uncle.”

He almost wants to laugh right in her face, despite what she said not meaning to be funny. She is so frail, and yet roars so loudly.

“There is.”

Her jaw muscles tighten in frustration, shuffling backwards though there is nowhere to go.

“Then, I dare say your reason will not be good enough.”

Aemond allows his gaze to roam over her face. Up close, she really and truly is the picture of her mother, with her father's unfortunate features to her disadvantage in her colouring.

“I merely wished to see the colour of your eyes, mandianna.”

“To make some cruel jape no less, I am sure.”

He grins at the way she takes a sharp breath when he tugs her face towards him slightly. And he swears he sees the pupils within the clear blue of her eyes widen as he does, and wonders if he is having the same effect swelling at the forbidden place between her thighs.

“You wound me, sweet niece. A man cannot simply appreciate the beauty of a woman? Does there always have to be some cruel intent?”

“With you, there must be.”

He somewhat loosens his grip on her face, fingers trailing down her neck, the glint of her earrings catching his eye. She visibly shivers at his touch there. 

The most venomous expression sits on her face, and she does not miss a beat. Too clever and witty for her own good.

“Do not insult my intelligence, Uncle. I know what depraved thoughts bat around inside your head, and they are not original. A family trait perhaps.”

He hums, more amused than curious, but perhaps with a smattering of both, “And what of you?”

Her perfect little lips part to speak before his thumb trails down the column of her throat, long fingers wrapped around her neck to her nape. The threat of what he could do making her go quiet.

“What depraved thoughts bat around in your head, sweet niece?”

Silence wraps around them like a rope, tightening with the fibres cracking against their skin. Hot and suffocating all at once. And all Aemond can hear is the steady rhythm of her breathing, his eye wandering down to the necklace perched on her chest as her lungs erratically suck in air.

“It is treason to question my virtue.”

She swallows as his thumb presses on the centre of her throat, as if testing if she is indeed real.

“It may be treason to question your virtue, but it is not treason to question your honesty,” he replies coolly. Aemond can feel her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, the barely-contained rage on her face hidden only by a blanket of courtesy, “a maiden does not allow herself to be alone like this with another man.”

Aemond found himself, a man who had sparred with Ser Criston Cole for a large portion of his life, a man who as a child had claimed the largest dragon in the world and a man who had dealt with the burning pain of losing his eye, and the shame that he carried alongside it, was shocked into brief silence when his niece’s small, delicate palm echoed off his cheek.

It was not the force of it that stunned him so, but rather the shock that she had chosen to do it, with his hand around her neck and his frame blocking her escape.

The little dragon had felt threatened and given him a warning clip.

Aemond felt the warmth bloom on his cheek and smirked. She had slapped him on his bad side, where she knew it would sting the most. For a split second, white, hot pain nipped at the temples of his head as he turned back to face her, and saw that look on her face.

That she knew she’d made a mistake, but was too angry or proud to admit it. 

Or perhaps she was both.

Excitement wriggled and rolled in his stomach at the whimper that escaped her lips, using the force of his grip around her tiny throat to force her back, muscles and bones rolling against the stone walls where she was trapped, and those clear, curious eyes darting back at him with distaste. And he was pleased to see, a sprinkling of horror and panic.

“That was a mistake,” he mused, pressing himself closer to her, his hand firm around her throat despite her own attempting to pry them off him. His other hand reached down, shifting her up the cold wall, and gathered her heavy skirts in his palm, and rucked them frustratingly up towards her hip.

He revelled in the terror that crossed her face, a smirk winding its way to his sharp features.

“How exhilarating,” he pondered, “to take something that you are not willing to give.”

“I will scream”.

“Then scream. I will say it was you who seduced me,” he bit back, watching her face and expressions that crossed them, “And who will they believe? The King’s second son or the bastard daughter of a whore?”

He could feel her breath against his face, soothing the spot where she had struck him not a moment before. Aemond blinked slowly at the woman in his grip, apparently attempting to decide for herself whether it was worth the fight.

Or perhaps something else.

Aemond grinned, “like mother like daughter.”

And he enjoyed the fire it stoked in her eyes.

“You will let me go-”

He shook her neck in his grip, as if to make her be quiet. And it seemed to shock and scare her, for she closed her eyes to steel herself, “And then what will you do? Run? Scream? Or will you do something stupid enough to give me an excuse to make everything you’ve ever said about me, truth?”

Her jaw tightened looking at him, feeling cornered, but a strange ache between her thighs.

“You threaten me, Uncle?”

His dagger sliced the very air between them, pressing the tip to the column of her throat where his thumb had branded her not moments before, tracing the shape of her skin. His niece froze, her breath trembling and her head pressed to the wall, as if to try and pull herself feebly away from threat. 

This very dagger was an extension of Aemond himself. As if his hand were still touching her but with a pointed edge. And he wondered if he sliced her skin, even just a little, would she bleed like him?

There was something there in her eyes as he looked between them. Her breath came in shallow gasps. And Aemond was willing to bet that deep down, beneath the demure veil she hides herself behind, peeking through, that she is wet and ready for him between her silky thighs.

“You are clever, dear niece,” he all but whispers, trailing the blade down to the neckline of her dress, the rich fabric yielding to it, “but not as clever as you think you are.”

She swallowed thickly as his blade teased the tied bindings to her dress, playing with the double-tied knots as if they were strings of a lute, and he was playing her easily. He plucked one, and then two, watching her face the entire time.

“You believe yourself a proper little Princess, do you not?” he asks, his voice low, almost feline in nature, his face so close to hers she can make out the stitchings of his eyepatch, “hair decorated with gold. Fingers adorned with rubies. Wrapped in lavish dresses.”

She flinched as he flicked his wrist, severing the second to last tie holding two sides of her gown together.

“But pull one little thread, and you unravel -” his tone deepens, forcing her to listen to every little syllable, his gaze boring into hers, “-and all you are…is a wanton, bastard, whore.”

She attempted to push his body away, but his dagger clattered to the floor, holding her easily by her wrists, near-painfully pressing them to the stone wall behind her. It happened so quickly. Lips, teeth and tongue fought as if in battle, and Aemond held her there for him, pressing his rapidly hardening length against her clothed womanhood, rolling his hips against hers to search for that delicious, forbidden friction.

It did not seem to him that she was fighting him, but rather fighting how he made her feel.

Her lips were velvety, moist and soft as his anchored hers apart to taste her, once having a split second’s worth it was never enough. Every little breath and whimper and he wanted to make them louder, make her submit, a part of him intoxicated by her when  her teeth grazed his bottom lip, and bit on him, only for her tongue to soothe the area afterwards.

Aemond thought of what would happen, if he devoured her wholly, pressed so hard against her that it was difficult to fathom where either of them began and ended.

His lips moved along her jaw. She smelled of whatever oils were combed through her hair. Camomile and something sweet perhaps. Quickly his hand left her wrist to ruck her heavy skirts up to her waist, feeling her shiver at the touch he left behind with the brief touch of his fingertips where no man had touched before. 

“Fight back,” Aemond dared, a mere whisper against her neck where he left his bruise-like mark.

He met her gaze, looking into her bright eyes and allowed his grip on her to slowly relax, waiting to see if she would push away. Scream and run, as she had previously promised. And while her jaw was still tense and eyes aflame with hostility, he swore he saw her pupils dilate.

“Just get on with it.”

The surging heat in his stomach distracted him briefly from acting cocky, his fingers fumbling to untie his breeches while keeping her elevated. And it felt as if his body was thinking before his mind when he looked between them to see her hefty skirts bunched at her hip, and one smooth leg on display, pulling his achingly hard cock free and tucking himself between the soft haven between her thighs. 

She could pretend she desired him not all she liked, but when their gazes met in fire and fury, finding that in all of their fighting and struggling she was soaking wet, Aemond pushed against her entrance until she welcomed him, sliding within her tight, choking walls with a low groan batted against her neck.

She whined at both the intrusion and his tight grip on her thigh, one hand elevating it so that he could begin pushing up brutally into her. Shame rose to her cheeks as she closed her eyes tightly, finding the wet smack of their skin rousing that tightness in her belly.

It was both embarrassing and hateful that she found herself enjoying this, and that she let him first of all. 

And all she could see above her when she opened her eyes was him, his lips parted to breath as if he was holding some beastly form of himself back, his hair spilling like rays of moonlight over his shoulders with every thrust into her weeping cunt and the way his lone eye never strayed from her expression, not for a second.

That is until Aemond felt as if not only he wanted to own her shame and her body, but wanted to show it too, and leaned forward to graze his teeth on the skin that was now exposed by the ever loosening shoulders of her dress, and sink his teeth in to mark her.

The sound that came from her was between a grunt and a moan, as his position changed the angle of his hips and the blunt head of his cock sparking pleasure deep inside her.

“Fucking…hate you…” is all she managed, feeling the top of his canine break the skin just slightly. Her voice clung to that flat, stoic hatred, and she hated that it sounded as if she were about to fall apart.

If it were possible, he increased the intensity of his movements, pushing up into her mercilessly and drawing feminine, soft whines from her mouth. Sounds he wasn't even sure before his niece was capable of making.

“I adore your fire, sweet niece,” he muses lowly, tracing her jaw with his lips, “I adore how much you think you hate me.”

She does hate him, she tries to think. But every thought that appears is swiftly batted away by the incessant rhythm of his cock pistoning in and out of her, the depraved sounds betraying how she truly feels. An internal war Aemond can clearly see.

“Do you like this? Do you like how much I hate you? How much I want to hurt you?”

Yes.

A thought rung in her mind that she wanted him to hurt her more, so that she could just feel something from him aside from the way he stretched her walls around him so deliciously.

The soreness of his girth is something she had not expected to be a problem, a lapse of thought that she will no doubt be paying for the next morning.

But this, this was a core lapse of morals, surely. Allowing him to do this to her.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, as if pulling her to meet his cock halfway, feeling the way his body shuddered at the closeness of completion evident on his face.

Aemond grinned wolfishly, “You like this. We both know it.”

He thrusted into her so forcefully that she had no choice but to hold onto him, clinging to his leather-clad shoulder tightly when he met her fleshy end, her insides involuntarily squeezing around him in both pain and pleasure.

His hand came to her neck, clamping down experimentally on her windpipe, and groaning deeply at the way her cunt sucked him in as he did. Forcing her chin up so those traitorous blue eyes met his, he grinned.

Hateful little cunt.

Her peak crept up her spine first, feeling as if the sensation was melting her muscles where they sat inside her body. And then her lips parted in a soundless scream, pitifully moving her hips towards his to encourage the feeling to crest until it rushed out of her with a feeble whine, “uncle…”

Not only was the feeling of her quivering, velvety walls enough to convince him, but the way she called him that while he was so deep inside her, threatening for relief, was so erotic it did not feel depraved in the slightest.

But nothing was better than that wide-eyed, colourful expression of panic, distaste, hate and anxiety when he deliberately planted his seed inside of her. Aemond was sure there was no better feeling, bad intentions or no, her blood felt good on him, his teeth and cock alike.

All he could imagine was what dynasty could be created from such a house of revulsion. To watch this hateful little creature swell with his child, a true Targaryen. Only to put on the same stoic, flat expression which he knew was untrue when he'd fuck her again, and again, and again.

What flame flickered under that expression of hers, he wondered. What stone was hidden in the centre of her peachy, soft exterior. A heart, perhaps.

She didn't have to like it, this dance between them. But when he put her down and watched his spend trickle down her thighs, he would have her come to love it.

She existed for this. Whatever it was. He was sure of that.

“Well, little dragon,” he whispered, “the bastard daughter of a whore, with another growing within her?”

She swallowed around his hand as he tugged her face closer to his.

“Or burn with me.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch@castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

[spacebaby1]

Yuta always makes me feel soft. He is a thoughtful, kind man who is devoted to his loved ones. He is his mother's son. Of course dad Gojo. 😙 He is jealous because his son is his mother's copy. Their only son. Especially the mother is very fond of her son. Can you write some cute things?

I wanna write more of these😩🩷my beautiful boys!!

You were overjoyed when you found out that you're gonna have a baby. And Satoru being the only son of Gojo clan made everyone in his family excited for his first born; some even excited that your child might have the six eyes just like his father, which is one thing you didn't want. The birth wasn't easy, and it came to a shocking end. You could still feel the five days labor pain even after many years and it made your body shiver everytime you remember; crying from the labor pain, barely able to lay down or stand when everyone were petrified on your situation, unable to help you. Satoru haven't felt this hopeless all his life as he did in those five days to the point that they all that you might lose the baby. On the sixth day, at the early hours of the morning, your baby boy was born. You remembered crying as your mother in law placed your son on your chest; even Satoru couldn't hold his tears back as he caressed your hair gently, whispering praises. The intensity of labor left your body in so much distress that your doctor sadly informed you that you would never be able to have another child in the future. The news was a slap in the face for both of you however having your precious baby yuta in your arms was worth every pain and every other loss.

To your and Satoru's relief; your son did not inherits Satoru's six eyes on the other hand your son was a carbon copy of you; he had your black hair, your dark blue eyes and your personality, your gentleness and even your smile. However, he was as strong as he's father but he surly was your baby no matter how old he got. Yuta would never leave your sight which made his kindergarten years very difficult because he would cry nonstop when you weren't there. You'd go to shop leaving him with Satoru and he would still cry for you.

It was another long day when you and Satoru were fast asleep when the baby monitor went off, you groaned getting up but Satoru pulled you back to bed, still half asleep himself. He kissed your forehead before whispering, "I'll get him, Mama." You nodded falling asleep only to be woken up minutes later with another cries of your son, you got up rubbing your eyes and saw that Satoru wasn't in bed so you made your way to Yuta's room.

You could see how tired Satoru was softly rocking his little baby in his arms, "hey, he's not letting papa sleep?" You said with a small smile making your way towards your husband. Placing your hand on your husbands bare arms, "is he hungry?"

Satoru sighed handing him to you with a pout, "he won't stop crying and I tired to feed him but he won't eat and he doesn't need changing, I think he needs his mama to hold me and not his handsome dada." You chuckled at that but you knew that Satoru felt a bit left behind from your childs love. You kissed Satoru's hand while rocking Yuta in your other arm, "He loves you and he wants his dada to have a goodnight sleep that's why he won't stop crying to let mama hold him, right yu?" Yuta already stopped crying and falling asleep. Satoru kissed your head leading you towards the rocking chair and sitting by your side as you held Yuta in your arms, "he's so mini you, isn't he?" Satoru smile gently rubbing Yuta's cheeks. You smiled, "he has your beautiful nose tho." Satoru chuckled planting a kiss on his son's head, "Our beautiful boy."

Your thoughts were cut short when the front door flung open followed with your husbands unmistakable voice and your teenager sons tired groans. Yuta had just turned twelve and Satoru would take him for training ever since because he wants his son be able to help himself and other just in case he encountered a curse. And it was getting to your poor boy.

Your two boys entered the living-room when You were putting some reports away and Yuta literally ran to wrap his arms around you leaving a tired sigh, "Welcome, home you two." Satoru gave you a kiss while your son still held onto you, "Satoru, did you overtrain my baby?" All your husband did was laugh, "hey, this wasn't even the actual training."

Yuta sighed looking at you, "ma, I'm tired. Papa said we need to train more, tell him no." You looked at your husband and he just shrugged. You sighed, "just don't drain our baby boy." You said to your husband and rubbed your sons back, "come on, both of you go get ready. Dinner is ready, now up up. Come on, papa you too. Go" you pushed your husband when he tired to hug you laughing.

The dinner was as cheerful as everyday both your boys "arguing" over their training and you watched them with a loving smile on your lips, "admiring my beauty?" Satoru wiggled his brows to which you son reacted, "eww, not in front of me." You laughed and ruffled Yuta's hair, "Eat, both of you." You noticed how Satoru watched Yuta tell you all about the school events and his training with his dad with a small smile, as your husband played with the food in front of him and that smile would fall every now and then.

The three of you were watching some TV show in the living-room with your son laying on your lap and Satoru on the arm chair. No matter how old he got, Yuta would always lay his head on your lap as you placed your hand in his hair caressing it or just placing it on there for comfort. Satoru would lie if he said that he wasn't a bit jealous and wishing that his son would lay his head on Satoru's lap. Satoru often felt left out no matter how hard he tried to be around his baby boy. However, he never stopped showing his love to his child. Yuta yawned and you tapped his shoulder after looking at the clock and it was 10 in the evening, "Okay, bedtime. Come on." Yuta nodded getting up from your lap and giving you a long hug, "Goodnight, Ma." You kissed his cheek, "Goodnight, Baby." He smiled and went to hug Satoru, "Goodnight, pa." Satoru hugged him tight observing the love he is getting, "Night night my superstar."

Satoru made his way next to you on the couch and dropped his head on your chest as you played with his silver hair not giving any attention to the TV, Satoru was laying on your chest eyes open and lost in thoughts. "What's going on in your mind, papa?" You asked hugging him to your chest and he let out a long sigh, "You'll think I'm overreacting," He chuckled and you kissed his head. "I'll never think that, now tell me what's bothering you, is it the work?" Satoru shook his head nuzzling his head in your neck. "Do you think I'm a good dad?" He asked almost in whisper. You looked at him and made him look at you as he sighed and sat up straight, holding his face in your soft hands your spoke, "you're an amazing dad, your the best dad to our baby boy and you have been the most loving since the day Yuta was born. Why would you even think otherwise?" He sighed looking at his hands with heavy eyes that took you by surprise when he whipped the tears before falling. You moved closer holding his hands in yours, "hey, Sweetie. Satoru, why are you crying? Did Yuta say some-"

He shook his head immediately and chuckled the tears away looking at you, "Our sweetheart Yuta would never say anything to make me cry. He's such a gentle boy just like his mama always considerate of others feelings. It's just, ugh I don't know, I'm being so dramatic but I feel like he likes being around you more than me and I'm terrified that he'll grow away from me and I wanna give him all my love and support I just feel like I'm lacking at something." You hugged your husband, "I'm sorry you feel like this Sweetie. You're an amazing dad and Yuta loves you as much as you love him don't you ever feel like he doesn't like being around you and you out of all people should know how much he looks up to you and tries hard to be like his strong papa. He's just a-"

"Mama's boy." You both said together and Satoru laughed holding your hand in his and placing a soft kiss on it, "I don't know, I just felt the need to let that off my chest and you just know how to make me feel better, I love you, I love both of you." You smiled and hugged your husband.

Unknown to both of you Yuta saw and heard it all when he came back to grab his bag but stopped when he saw his parents talking. His lips quiver when he saw his dad crying and feeling like Yuta didn't love him. He went back to his room and tried to not cry at the image of his father crying in his Mama's arm.

The next morning you were in the kitchen making breakfast while Satoru was going through the report you wrote from yesterday. It's how your weekends went a late breakfast with you and Satoru rewriting the report for the week missions. Yuta came down a bit to excited skipping his way to hug you first, "morning angel, slept well?" He nodded happily giving you a kiss on cheek making you pout at how tall he has gotten; your baby was growing so fast. He happily ran to hug Satoru, "wohh, Good morning strong boy, don't attack your old man like that, I might break a bone." Satoru kissed Yuta's head, "slept well?" Yuta nodded happily still hugging his dad. Satoru's brows frowned as he hugged his son, "you okay, buddy?" He rubbed his son's back. Yuta finally let go and smiled, "better than ever, you're amazing pa." Satoru smiled as he ruffled his sons hair, "says the strongest boy. Who's my strong boy? Who's my strong baby boy?" Satoru spoke in a baby voice holding Yuta's cheeks making him laugh and try to let go of his fathers hold. Yuta finally managed to free himself from his father's hold, "Pa, are you busy today?"

Satoru smiled as both of your boys made their way to the kitchen to help you set the table, "not really, no missions for the day, why? You want me to drive you to your friends?" Yuta shook his head as shrugged, "Nah, I was thinking if you want to hangout at the mall? We haven't been to the mall, if you'd like?" He asked nervously and Satoru's eyes light up, "ah, yes and your mother would love to go-"

Taking your chance you spoke, "I don't think I can baby, I still have the report to finish, how about you two boys go and have fun? Plus I need my alone time." You said making them chuckle. Yuta looked at his dad, "Yes! Sure, let's go after breakfast."

You happily watched your husband get ready as you were standing by the doorframe, "you seem so happy that's making me fall in love with you over again." You said making Satoru smile, "I fall in love with you everyday!" He placed a long kiss on your cheek, "have fun at the mall, and get me something sweet when you come back." You said that and headed towards your sons room to find him trying to button up his shirt sleeve; unsuccessfully. Which reminded you of your husband and how both your boys can't button up their shirts sleeves. You laughed and Yuta forward his arm happily for you to button up his sleeves and you immediately helped him, "have fun okay? And please don't let daddy eat so much candy?" Yuta laughed at your request and hugged you once you were done, "I love you ma, I love you both so much." You kissed his forehead once you let go, "we both love you more, baby boy."

You watched them both leave and went to your report once again not minding the quietness in the house. Surprisingly you needed that time alone after finishing the report you went to your reading until it was getting dark and you heard the familiar voice of your two boys entering the house. Followed by laughter that made your heart swell with love at the sight of your two boys. "Pa, show ma what we won today!" Yuta hugged you quickly before rushing towards Satoru making you smile wide, "and tell her about the new store we want to! Ma, you won't believe what pa got you and we had so much fun. There was this new game store and pa and I went a bit crazy but it was so much fun." You watched you son and husband show you the big stuffed toy they won. "I take it you two had fun?" You asked to which Satoru and Yuta nodded happily. "Should we try the new video game, yu?" Satoru asked and Yuta nodded, "Yes! Wait I'll turn the TV on pa, get the game. Let's play it!"

It's been a few hours, and your husband and son were playing the video game on the living room floor, laughing and having fun while you happily read your book from the couch. A few few minutes later, Yuta fell asleep with his head on your husbands lap. Satoru turned the TV off and turned to look at you with a huge smile on his face, which you matched to his. Carefully, Satoru carried his son to his bedroom with you following behind. Satoru placed Yuta on the bed and was about to leave when Yuta grabbed his hand in his sleep, Satoru tried to carefully let go but only to earn an annoyed groan from his son. You chuckled and whispered, "Now he won't let go of his papa. Stay with him a while?" Satoru nodded with a smile as he knelt down next to the bed, caressing his son's black hair with such gentleness and love. You kissed Satoru's hair as you watched your two precious boys.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Learned Behaviours｡⋆.

Dick Grayson x plus size reader

The one where Alice has picked up some bad habits

Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff, dad!dick

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The Graysons

Nap time was sacred in the Grayson household. After lunch had been devoured and playtime had been played, you would all gather in the living room and toss blankets and pillows onto the floor before all curling up together for a nap.

It started when Alice was barely a week old. Neither you or Dick had any energy to step foot from the small square of warmth between the coffee table and the couch that had become Alice's spot. The both of you frequently fell asleep next to each other on the floor, watching over your little one as she slumbered on. And thus family nap time was born.

Now that Alice was almost 4, naps were a little less vital for her but as you hit the 6 month mark of your pregnancy and Dick started going back to his duty as Nightwing- naps were a necessity to the grown-ups. So you threw on some Bluey for your daughter to watch and curled around her little body as your husband wrapped an arm around your pregnant belly and nuzzled his nose into the back of your head. 

You both were passed out before the theme song ended.

A soft crunching brought you back from sleep. You groaned, now feeling uncomfortable as your front is cold while your back is overheating. You shoved Dick away from you, getting immediate relief from his furnace-like body but something was still wrong.

The TV was paused on an image of the cartoon dogs your daughter loved so much, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Ali?” You called, your voice raspy with sleep, but you were met with more soft crunching.

You groaned and sat up, your stomach churned as your baby woke up with you. “I know I know.” You whispered to them, standing cautiously, taking note that the sun had long-since set. Dick was still asleep at your feet, now curled around a pillow instead of your soft body. 

A thud came from the kitchen, distracting you from the sight of your handsome husband. A dull blue light filtered into the living room from behind the huge L-shaped couch. Now curious, you stepped around Dick quietly and tip-toed into the fully renovated kitchen.

Your brows scrunched in confusion- the fridge was wide open, providing the light you had seen from the living room but all other lights were off. “Ali?” You called out again, causing the crunching to stop. 

There was a clatter of dishes and then the fridge slammed shut. “'M here mommy!” Alice called back in a sickly sweet voice that she always used when she was in trouble. You smiled as she rounded the kitchen island. She wore an oversized hoodie, it flaring out around her legs from where it covered the black tutu she wore constantly these days. 

Her dark hair was in cute little buns at the top of her head, still somehow perfectly styled even after a day of play with her father. “What are you up to, baby bird?” You rub a hand over her head as she clutched at your pyjama pants.

“Nothin'.” She responded but her eyes darted over to the fridge.

You sighed. “Were you doing something you weren't supposed to?” She shook her head reluctantly. “Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I got a snack would you?” Her eyes went wide.

“Lemme get it for you mommy! You need rest!” She attempted to shove your legs to send you back to the couch but stopped when she saw your raised eyebrow. Alice scurried off, once again disappearing behind the island counter.

One of the cabinets slammed open, there was a rustle of plastic and then she returned, her tiny arms laden with her favourite snacks almost as if she were giving up an offering. “Here mommy! Now go sit.” You laughed under your breath at her antics.

“Alice, it's ok if you were hungry and wanted to get yourself a snack but you know not to go into the fridge without daddy or I to help you, you could’ve made a very big mess.” Her head lolled forward in shame. She dropped all her snacks to the floor in favour of \lifting her chunky hands above her head.

You did not hesitate to scoop her up and sit her on her wide hip. Immediately, she burrowed her face into your neck. “Sorry momma.” She murmured, her breath warming your skin. Placing a kiss to her soft forehead, you walked into the kitchen.

“That's ok baby, I know you were probably getting really hungry while daddy and I slept huh?” She nodded. The kitchen floor was spotless, which was surprising considering your daughter was about as graceful as a drunk giraffe, but there was a suspicious looking spoon on the ground.

Ignoring it for now, you went to the large fridge and carefully pulled open the door, bracing yourself for what you were about to find.

One of Dick's boxes of cereals sat on the second lowest shelf, slowly leaking milk onto the glass below while the half-empty jug sat open next to it. Unable to stop yourself, you laughed aloud, jostling your daughter who now rested on your chest.

It was an incredibly familiar sight from long before Alice was born. Dick used to frequently pour milk directly into bags of cereal in order to eat directly out of the box to cut down on dishes. 

You gave Alice a loving squeeze and set her down on the tile floor. “Good job not making a mess baby but maybe next time we can use a bowl and not the box.” She nodded in agreement, her smile returning now that she knew she wasn't in trouble. “Ok, let mommy clear this up. How about you wake up dad and get him to order us some pizza?”

Her little feet slapped against the floor as she ran off back to where her dad continued to slumber. With some effort, you retrieved the spoon and threw it into the sink before grabbing the soggy cardboard and throwing it into the trash just in time to hear a pained cry from Dick.

Standing on your toes, you were able to see that she had slid on her knees onto the blankets and then directly into his gut, violently waking him. “Hey there birdie.” He groaned.

“Mommy says we get pizza!” She shouted at him.

“Oh does she? And is mommy paying for this pizza?” His arms wound around her, tugging the small girl to his chest as she giggled.

“Daddy's paying cause obviously someone's been eating directly from the cereal box again and his little clone has picked up the habit.” At least he looked shameful as he glanced at you with a shy smile.

“Ok daddy's getting pizza!” Alice cheered and you rolled your eyes, somehow not being annoyed at all.

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The Graysons

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[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 5

Previously…

Denholm and Markus were on their way to their client when they discovered a bodysuit of a man who disappeared a year ago. They decided to keep the suit and see what happened to the man and how he ended up being a lifeless suit in a box from a strange janitor.

—————

“So, what are we gonna do with him?” Markus said.

“I think I should wear him.” Denholm said.

“What?? But.. that wouldn’t make sense.. A suit cannot wear another one! You might risk yourself getting hurt!”

“But I’m not fully a suit! I want to live this man’s life to give it proper closure!” Denholm argued and grabbed the suit’s legs.

“Well.. here goes nothing.” He starts putting on the suit by opening the back zipper. There, the deflated biceps of the guy became chiseled, the veins in his arms bulged out, and the legs became more bolder. As he puts on the mask, his chest started puffing out, and the perfect jawline appeared out of the face.

Sweating, he pants and turns around to Markus, and Markus was in awe.

“Did it.. did it worked?” Denholm said in a new sexy Vietnamese accent.

“Damn your voice… it’s so baritone and suave!!” Markus’ sex drive was driving him insane.

“Well he is ripped. I’m sure he spent a lot of time building this perfect bod.” Denholm said as he looked at himself in the mirror. His now black hair, brown eyes, piercings and earrings, and tattoos gleamed out.

“Ok then, you do what you gonna do to that body, I’ll just take over your student council duties for today.” Markus said as he left.

“What’s this?” Denholm noticed Markus dropped a bag with panties in it.

“But I thought he was gay…” He added while looking confused.

Denholm scourged through the guy’s memories to see what his past life had looked like. His name was Vince Long, a Vietnamese-American who was born from a wealthy family, and an alumni from the same high school as him. Vince was a top-tier student with straight-As, and to top it off, he had a hot girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, and the happiest one, until Vince suddenly disappeared.

One night after their 2nd year anniversary, Vince and his girlfriend Aurora left the restaurant at night to head home, when suddenly a white van appeared from the dark and took Vince and Aurora in. To her surprise, Aurora was spared by the men and left alone, she was left scarred and in pain to this day.

As for what happened with Vince next, Denholm couldn’t dig into any more memories, as the load must have stopped once he was turned into a full bodysuit.

“Could Aurora been also spared and left as a half-bodysuit like me?”, Denholm questioned as he looked through the pictures in Vince’s home.

It’s been a year since Vince’s disappearance , and his flat has been maintained by his family’s staff in honor of him. Denholm puts down his bag on Vince’s bed and looks in the mirror.

“You know what… maybe I should have a little bit of fun first”, Denholm says as he takes off his shirt and starts squeezing Vince’s hardening cock.

“Oohh… haven’t tried this in a while to be honest..” Denholm whispers as Vince’s sexy deep tones come out of his mouth.

“Ahh yes.. I’m Vince the engineer.. come here baby.. the fuckboy’s gonna unleash all his cum to you..” Denholm was shocked that even the way he speaks resembled very closely to Vince’s. The months long abandoned bedroom of Vince has been blessed not by holy water, but with his fresh loaded cum that hasn’t been released since 2022. Denholm lies down in bed in satisfaction as he tastes Vince’s long-expired cum.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Denholm got dressed and answered it, and to his surprise, it was Vince’s parents, Mr and Mrs Long waiting for him. They held tight his son while they burst into tears.

“We’ve looked for you everywhere! We miss you so much!” Mrs Long said as she hugged her son.

The parents took him back to their family mansion where they had a Thanksgiving Prayer with a reading on the Prodigal Son, to celebrate’s Vince’s homecoming.

Then, Denholm filed an official statement regarding Vince’s kidnapping to help solve the people responsible for the his kidnapping and the others as well. A joint investigation took place while Denholm gave the police more details about a “bodysuit factory”.

After the party was over, Denholm went home to Vince’s place, where he saw Aurora.

“Babe… babe is that you?!?” Aurora started tearing up and ran up to him.

“I missed you so much…” ‘Vince’ said in shock while he hugged his girlfriend.

The two shared a romantic kiss and embraced each other with the reunion. For Denholm it felt like he gave Vince the closure he needed, but he cannot live as Vince forever.

Aurora made the next move. She dragged Vince up the stairs and the two started undressing.

Excited, Aurora undresses herself and undresses Vince’s long sleeve, and his tank top.

He revealed his white Calvin Klein boxers while his cock barks back at her as he starts to get very horny.

“This is… wrong.” Denholm whispered as he started grabbing the sheets. “Babe.. what do you mean? I missed you so much!!” Aurora was biting her lips.

“Your breath… your armpit hairs… your leg hairs… your Amazon rainforest in your cock… every single inch of you I am craving right now.” Aurora was starting up the engine.

“Oh I miss doing this.” Aurora said while she touches Vince’s abs. “Babe.. maybe we should slow down.” Vince tried resisting. “Oh fuck this. give me that!” Aurora ripped his boxers wide and revealed the arching cock that she’s been craving for.

Aurora then starts teasing his manhood until it did a standing ovation. They then started kissing mouth to mouth and rolled on the bed, knocking over the bed sheets.

Vince’s mouth started watering as he grabbed Aurora’s breasts to drink her milkshake. He gave her clitties a blessful kiss, and he started inserting it in. The hole kept declining though, like a debit card refusing to be read by an ATM.

She then licked his ass, with the expired butt hairs electrifying out like that one Nair video.

“Why not repair my ass? Civil engineering? Fuck that.. engineer this pussy.” She started cracking up.

“What the fuck is this woman on?” Vince started to get so scared. She then resisted him pulling away and she bited his pecs. He screamed faintly like a little girl but felt delighted and rubbed her back again.

“You know what…? Let me fold you like a fucking pretzel.” Vince grinned. She screamed out loud as he bent her back and put the funnel into the bottle opening. She screamed and screamed and screamed. They were both suffocating in each other’s saliva, cum and seemingly piss. They were banging the walls and even squeezed themselves in the closet. She was freaking out as he chased him down the halls, both naked.

They Netflix and chilled, he pulled her many times to kiss her, and she rubbed his pubic hairs like petting their Shih Tzu Tracy. It was a very immaculate and blessed moment.

They did various poses! Doggy, cowboy, missionary, and our favorite, 69. They did it and did it until they got sweaty and started panting.

Aurora slurps out Vince’s loaded manhood like she’s slurping out a big bowl of ramen. She giggles as his load explodes out of her face, and she kneels down as he starts inserting his rubbery dick into her rubbery pussy. (Hold on… rubbery pussy..?, We’ll get there later on.)

Vince was making sure the zipper at the back of his neck wasn’t opening out as he exerts extra pressure against Aurora in bed. They both giggle as Aurora licks Vince’s smooth sweaty abs and she starts biting them. Vince screamed out but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected, it felt like he got bit by a dog while wearing a silicone rubber pants.

“Let’s do it again.” Aurora said while running out of breath. They initiated their sacred rituals again and again throughout the whole night. Fuck me ‘til up daylight indeed.

As Vince and Aurora finally covered themselves under the sheets, they both rest and as they cuddle each other, not knowing something behind there was opening up. Let me turn it into a saying, Don’t leave the fridge open at night.

Both drenched in sweat, Vince goes to the bathroom to get toilet paper to clean up the exploded fluids in his room. But something was wrong. The zipper opened a little bit, and was stuck.

Aurora then discovered this and just stood there as if she knew this whole time that he was a bodysuit.

“Babe.. it’s not what it looks like.. I promise.” Vince was in shock and started shaking.

“I- um.. I no… no..” Aurora was also nervous. she turned around to look away, but then it was another jaw-dropping moment: her zipper was also opened, she thought it wouldn’t get exposed but the bra she had just put on wasn’t enough to conceal it.

“What…?? WHAT?!?” Vince tried grabbing Aurora’s arm but she ran as fast as she could and fled the scene.

Denholm chased her down to the garage, but the bodysuit was starting to melt as the zipper had been exposed. He tried unzipping himself a few more tries, and managed to get out of Vince’s body.

Denholm now ran to the garage door but Aurora had locked it. Denholm tried breaking in, using everything he had on the house to reach the inside.

Denholm figured out that he could simply open the front garage doors and catch her in the act, so he pushed the button and the front garage lifted upward and he rushed inside, but it wasn’t what he was expecting, never at all expected what it was.

He took a step closer but to his surprise, Markus was there, seemingly apprehending the now-empty Aurora suit.

“Markus what the fuck are you doing here?!??” Denholm freaked out.

“I.. I don’t know! I just found this body snatcher somewhere and I followed her to this home! I didn’t know this was your bodysuit’s home!” Markus said.

“Dang it. FUCKKKKK!!!!!” Denholm let out a very loud scream as he started kicking the nearby objects. He was angry. He was FURIOUS.

“I think this suit is also like you, Denholm. I think she was also spared because she’s not hollow right now, she has a pulse.” Markus said.

“Well we better drive her home safely then. I’ll also take home Vince and keep it in our property.” Denholm said as he started the car to head home.

As he headed out, a nervous grin and a blush came out of Markus.

“I wonder if he’ll ever know…”

(17 Hours earlier…)

Aurora: “Yes, yes that would be 45.99 for the jeans.”

Customer: “Ok, I’m paying by credit. I really love your local boutique!”

Aurora: “Thank for you shopping here! This boutique means a lot to me as me and my late boyfriend invested a lot on it!”

Markus then walks in while wearing a face mask and sunglasses.

Aurora: Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique— AHHHHHH!!!

Aurora let out a loud scream and passed out.

Markus: Welcome.. and goodbye bitch.

Markus laughed maniacally as he lifted Aurora and unzipped her back, which transformed her into a bodysuit.

He then started sliding his legs into her more smaller ones, causing a huge stretch on the suit. Her body also expanded wide as Markus’ masculine torso squished in to fill in the void. Soon once Markus put on the mask, the suit realigned and formed itself: The legs started to shrink into a more feminine physique, and the waist significantly decreased and compressed Markus’ body. It was uncomfortable for him but it was all worth it. His new breasts also grew out to his desire. Markus looks into the store’s mirror.

“Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique!” He said in a new feminine high-pitched voice.

“Hey Vince.. hey baby… hey… Denholm.”

She said while she seductively stares into her reflection, and giggled. She packed up her stuff and left to go to Vince’s place.

— TO BE CONTINUED —

[cult-of-the-eye]

tma makeup headcanons:

Jonathan "serving cunt" Sims:

S1 Jon doesn't know what makeup is (he absolutely wore eyeliner every single day at uni but he's not letting everyone else know that)

He like spot conceals but that's about all he feels comfortable getting away with while maintaining his air of professionalism

He also despises the feeling of foundation on his face

S2 Jon is barefaced as the day he was born. My man's last priority is how he looks, he's too busy buying axes in central London and stalking his coworkers

S3 Jon has none of his makeup with him but he's got loads of spare time and Georgie has a whole drawer so he experiments a little bit, he goes for Kajal (black pencil eyeliner lining the inside of your eyes) instead of his previous winged eyeliner but he hesitates at the any colour because she managed to pull it off but he's never been one for drawing attention to himself like that but one day he goes for a burgundy or like dark purplish red colour and he's quite pleased with himself

I feel like Jon would go for a natural kind of look, with concealer and a skin tint at best, some dark brown eye shadow to deepen his hooded eyes and kajal

Martin Kslaying Blackwood:

Ugh I love this man so much

I'm literally such a fan of trans Martin it's pretty much canon to me so I'm headcanoning that he's very hesitant about makeup cause he was a late transitioner and had only just gotten used to passing recently so he doesn't want to do anything to risk that

But he's such a slut for a nice little blush or like a subtle lip tint

He goes for powder blushes cause liquid ones feel sticky on his face and also powder blushes just Look Nice

He also likes lip tints cause he's constantly rubbing off lip products, with the multiple mugs of tea a day and it's getting awkward handing Jon mugs of tea with faint lipstick stains on them

He keeps an emergency kit in his bag with like some eyeshadow if he needs to darken his facial hair and on a whim he puts a baby pink powder blush in there and a matching lip tint

So it's not like he decided to bring it to the safehouse, it was just sort of there

Jon finds it and he's like let's go, we're going down to the shops and buying some, we're gonna do some experimenting and Martin's like oh!!

When he was working for Peter Lukas, he was also barefaced, he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he put effort in

Timothy "Take notes" Stoker:

This man is such a fun makeup guy

He's a random dots around his eyes, shimmery colourful inner corner, new colour every day, just drawing shit around his eyes kinda man

He's a no foundation no concealer kinda guy as well I think

ugh just can you imagine??? They have a little tally of what colours/patterns Tim's using today and somehow he never managed to repeat a look - it might be a repeated colour but the pattern or the way it's used it's always different

And then one day he just stops. He still wears makeup but the colours are more muted and they make his eyes look bruised in a very decisive way

It's almost as if he's spent ages on a look and then tried to scrub it all away

Sashay Away James

She's such a glamorous girly I feel like she really enjoys the process of makeup more than actually changing the way she looks

I'd love her to be doing the whole shebang, spending hours picking the right primer and stuff like that

She goes for the yeah I'm wearing makeup and I'm slaying look

I feel like she's so good at a little nose highlight

Can you imagine every day Tim greeting Sasha every morning with like a love the highlight girl and it makes her happy every single time

Oh she's such a fake freckles girly absolutely

Hated false eyelashes cause they feel weird

Not Sasha believes makeup is pushing feminism backwards

[pjohoo-reclists]

Percy Jackson & Poseidon Rec List

Percy and Poseidon's father-son relationship while Percy is a baby or a very young child. Enjoy!

The Ocean and Its Waves by Isha_Dugar

G | 500 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Poseidon

Baby Percy, Good Parent Poseidon, Fluff

This is a one-shot interlinked series of Percy and Poseidon fluff, angst, and everything parental you can think of. Hope you like it!!

Christmas by MagicallyMidnight (sweetlixes)

G | 600 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Christmas, Fluff, Pre-Canon

Percy wants a new pencil box so he asks Santa for one.

A Forbidden Visit by OnceUponASunsetDream

G | 800 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Baby Percy, Good Father Poseidon, Crying

Percy had always had an odd feeling, a distant memory and he was certain that his father had visited him when he was a baby. He had to have, there was no way he had just abandoned them. He remembered a smile.

Strange Little Thing by hedgehodgy

G | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Good Parent Poseidon, Family Bonding, Canon Divergence

The son of the Sea God was a strange little thing.

he breathed happiness into the sea by luvsikfairy

Not Rated | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Poseidon

Baby Percy Jackson, Poseidon is a Good Parent, Family Feels

On the 18th of august of the fateful year of 1993, the sea was happy because perseus achilles jackson was born.

Daddy’s Got You by GabrielBubbles

T | 1.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Protective Poseidon, Domestic Fluff, Baby Percy

Poseidon goes against the law and visits his son.

Even Children Get Older (and I'm Getting Older Too) by jellifisho

G | 1.6k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Sally Jackson/Poseidon

Canon Compliant, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship

Perseus Jackson is born on August 18th at 2:34 AM, weighing exactly seven pounds and three ounces. His eyes are the watery-blue-gray that so many newborns are born with, not yet settled into their color, and his black hair is just beginning to grow. Poseidon listens to his heartbeat, counts all his fingers and toes, and memorizes the shape his dark lashes make as they fan across his cheeks. Perseus is perfect in a way that only what is yours can be, and it’s been so long since Poseidon has held a child—much less his own child. Everything aches when he has to leave.

bones by elliemiller

T | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Poseidon is a Good Parent, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Hurt/Comfort

He had never known prayer; his mother had never placed any emphasis on religion. Instead, Percy only knew desperation. He bowed his head, and whispered to whoever was listening: “Mama never had any drinks. Gabe did, the bottles were his. I know he pushed her. Please, I know he killed her, but I can’t prove it. And he’s gonna hurt me if I say something. Please. Please, someone help me.” Or: After Sally dies, Poseidon interferes in Percy's life, defying the Big Three oath, and decides to raise him in Atlantis. Canon divergence.

Neon lights, underwater delights by rycbarm123

Not Rated | 3.6k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Abusive Gabe Ugliano, Seafam, Murder

Percy has a very bad, no good life after his stepfather enters the picture. It goes from bad to worse, and no one is in his corner. Thing is, he also apparently has a whole other side of his family he didn't know about.

[luxora]

Blackpink -> {Goddess AU} -> Meeting their demigod child

Requested: No

Group: Blackpink

Genre: Fluff.

Jisoo

There was hardly anything that could instill fear in a god since they are the most powerful beings in the world, or rather, through all the combined worlds and universes. They were capable of taking out mortal civilizations with nothing more than a flick of the finger or a gust of air, mortals unable to fight against them simply because of their lack of power in comparison to the gods.

Jisoo was a goddess worth being feared of, mostly due to her disdain for mortals. While she was known as being a very reclusive goddess, her power was not to be underestimated, especially when she believed that you have committed a wrongful act in her realm. She was responsible for everything connected to nature; therefore, she perceived anything that tended to try destroy it being an enemy; human mortals being the primary enemy in her realm.

And yet despite her obvious disdain for humans, she fell in love with one, and to make matters worse (or better), she had conceived a child with them.

Jisoo was at a loss of what to do. While she has obviously seen offspring being produced between two mates, human and nonhuman, Jisoo never perceived herself as being one of the gods or goddess that decidedly fall in love with a mortal due to the obvious difference in power. In all, honestly, it never was supposed to happen and yet it did, and Jisoo had to endure nine months of pregnancy until you finally gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.

A demigod baby girl, to be more exact.

Jisoo didn’t quite know what to do, she was hardly the motherly types, especially since her reputation precedes her as a cold goddess with a hatred for humans. And yet here she sat on a bed, you in it as you cradled the newborn babe in your arms, a tired smile on your face as you gently hummed a tune which was foreign to Jisoo but familiar to you. Jisoo just watched in silence, her dark eyes fixed on the blanketed figure on your arms until your finally raised your head to look at her.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, stunning Jisoo with the question.

“Oh...I...I couldn’t.” She refused, shaking her head as she glanced back down at the sleeping babe in your arms. But you were not accepting her answer.

“Come sit next to me.” You said, shuffling in the bed to provide a sitting space for her next to you. Jisoo obeyed immediately, slowly moving from her seat on the foot of the bed to sit next to you, her back pressed against the headboard. You then began to move the babe towards her, and embarrassingly, Jisoo panicked.

“Y/N, it is not a good idea!’

“Jisoo, she is your daughter. Hold her. She isn’t going to bite.”

The goddess floundered at the statement, it not quite sinking in that she was a mother, especially to a demigod child. She recalled once in the past that she stated to all of her siblings and fellow gods and goddesses that she never intends to become romantically involved with a mortal, much less have a child with one. But it seemed that she went back on her word as she found herself nervously cradling a baby, its head pressed against her chest as it continued to slumber.

“...”

Jisoo couldn’t help but stare down at the babe in memorization. Despite it being born a few hours ago, she could already see features that belonged to both herself and you. The babe had her black hair, dark as a Winter’s night during the full moon, as well as her perfectly angular nose, while from your side, the babe had your adorable cheeks, slightly red and plump, almost charming her to give them a soft squeeze. The babe was so tiny in her arms, and yet was not light. Jisoo felt her arm sinking at it supported the babe’s weight, its head nested in her elbow.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” You cooed, resting your head on Jisoo’s shoulder as you smiled down at the babe in Jisoo’s arms. The goddess couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“She the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Jisoo confessed, gingerly moving her other arm to slowly trail a finger tip along that adorable cheek that was calling for her to pinch it. She instead gently poked it, reveling in its supple skin. She felt you press a kiss to her cheek.

“She’s our daughter Jisoo.” You breathed, returning your head to its previous position on her shoulder. Jisoo nodded again.

“Yes...”

Jisoo was a mother, a mother and partner to a pair of humans. It was you who truly desired a child from Jisoo, and despite her previous misconceptions regarding mortals and their continuous need of expanding their numbers, she gave in to your desire and now she had a daughter in her hands. A daughter which was the mixed creation of a goddess and a human. Despite the newness of the whole situation, a span of warmth filled Jisoo until she could feel nothing else but the one emotion that entered the realm of her younger sister.

“I love her.” Jisoo confessed, which in turn made you smile as she gently brought your hand to your daughter’s head, gently stroking its black locks as it continued to sleep.

“I love her too. Thank you for giving her to me.”

“No.” Jisoo suddenly said, turning around to look at your confused eyes, shaking her head gently before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, whispering against them as she uttered the words ingrained in her heart. “Thank you for asking for her.”

Jennie

Jennie was quite used to figuring out the unusual and discovering the solutions to all problems, hence her title as the goddess of wisdom; therefore, nerves was not a concept she had a firm grasp on. But it was all that Jennie could feel as she appeared in the middle of her temple, like all the times she had before, only this time there was more than just you that she was meeting. There was no one to greet her as she arrived, but she heard movements at the front of the temple, so she slowly walked down the steps and head in the direction of the temple entrance, the movements becoming more prominent until she finally heard the tinkling laugh of a young girl.

Suddenly her heart was in her throat.

Jennie slowly stepped out from the shadows of her temple to see a beautiful girl with chocolate brown locks dancing about on the pathway that led to her temple, small arms reaching above her head as she attempted to catch the fireflies that were flying about in the night sky. Jennie couldn’t help but become transfixed at the sight of the girl, a familiar gummy smile on her face as she giggled at the glowing bugs as she continued to try catch them but to no avail. However, despite the lack of success, she continued to try catch one, a slightly determined glint in her eye as she continued running about which was also very familiar to the goddess.

Movement from the side caught Jennie’s attention, causing her to turn and lock eyes with the very same eyes that were reflected on the little girl’s face, the crooked smile that sent her heart asunder flashed in her direction as its owner stepped towards Jennie, hand reached out to the little girl.

“Ana love, our guest has arrived.”

The little girl immediately turned to you before looking at Jennie, a stunned look on her face as she took  in Jennie’s ethereal beauty before flashing her a gummy smile, hurrying over to Jennie before you could say or do anything to stop her. Jennie couldn’t help but immediately kneel down at the girl’s small height, a soft smile on her face as she allowed the girl to invade her space.

“Mama?” She asked, eyes filled with wonderment as she continued to stare at Jennie with memorization.

The very sound of the title sent Jennie’s chest into a flourish of butterflies, filling her up with so much warmth. Jennie nodded and flashed her signature gummy smile at the little girl before holding out her hand to her, the girl’s small hand immediately placing itself in Jennie’s larger one, allowing the goddess to enclose her hand with her own.

“Yes little one, it’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

An adorable squeal left Ana’s lips before she all but dived into Jennie, wrapping her arms around her neck as she squeezed her tightly, Jennie’s arms immediately wrapping around her waist in a tight hug, her own nose nuzzled into Ana’s neck as she rebelled in the first hug given to her by her very own daughter.

“Mama...mama...” Ana continued to whisper, nuzzling her own nose into Jennie’s hair, inhaling her natural scent of roses and vanilla.

Footsteps caught Jennie’s attention once again, prompting her to lift her head away from Ana’s neck to look at you walking closer to them, your signature smile on your face as you took in the sight of the two of them finally meeting one another. Jennie stood up from her kneeling position with Ana in tow, her arms still tightly wrapped around the little girl while she wrapped her legs around Jennie’s abdomen so that she would not fall. Jennie smiled softly as you once you eventually reached them.

“You came.” You smiled back.

“Of course, Ana has been wanting to meet you for so long.”

Guilt flashed through Jennie as she glanced at the back of Ana’s head before looking back at you, her grip on Ana tightening ever so slightly.

“I would have come sooner if-”

“Jennie, it’s okay. I understand.”

“But I-”

“You gave me your blessing remember? No harm will come to us when I know you are watching over us. I know it isn’t easy, but we will make it work.”

“I...She...is not going to have an easy life Y/N. A demigod...there are so many dangers that are posed on her.”

“Well, its a good thing that you’re her mother, because she will certainly know how to protect herself since she is a lot more like you than me.”

Jennie chuckled at your words and shook her head, stepping towards you and leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to your lips, pulling away from a few seconds for leaning in for a more fiery one, one hand removing itself from Ana to cradle the side of your neck, keeping you in place as she took her fill of you after being separated for a long while.

“I dare to disagree. I see you in her.”

“Looks and personality are two different things, my goddess.”

Your name for her sent another flurry of butterflies within Jennie, causing her to pull you in for another kiss before leaning away to press her forehead against yours.

“Not to me. You both are perfect.”

“Mama?” Ana’s voice called out, prompting Jennie to pull away from you to give her daughter her undivided attention, smiling serenely at her as she pulled back from her spot at her hair to look at the goddess with wide eyes.

“Yes little one?”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

Jennie glanced over at you before locking eyes with her daughter, a soft smile in place as she nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead.

“I will for a little while, my love. I promise.”

The both of you flashed her large smiles as her words, clearly both ecstatic at the prospect of her staying with the two of you, and quite honestly, Jennie was ecstatic at the idea too. She has missed you a lot, and she has missed the first few years of her daughter, she wanted to make up for it and she intended to do so.

Chaeyoung

Chaeyoung did not flinch as you continued to squeeze her hand in a death grip, she instead cooed and gently dabbed at your sweaty forehead as you panted heavily, your swollen belly being the primary focus of everyone in the room, mainly of Chaeyoung’s brother as he continued to hum charms under his breath to try ease your pan levels.

“You are doing so well my love, so well.” She cooed, pressing a kiss to your temple as you continued with your labored breaths.

Another wave of pain washed over you and your already impossibly tight grip tightened even more but Chaeyoung showed no sign of any pain as she continued to allow you to use her to ground yourself in the situation. You whimpered from the pain and turned to look at Chaeyoung, sheer pain and fear in your eyes.

“Chaeyoung, I don’t know if I can do this.” Chaeyoung immediately shook her head and gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t say that my love, you can.”

“But I-”

“You can do this my love, I know that you can. Just keep breathing.” Chaeyoung leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips before whipping her head around to look at her brother, flashing him a glare. “What is taking so long?”

“I am trying Chae, but things like this can’t be rushed.”

“She is in pain, do something about it!”

“What do you think I have been doing?!”

Both gods glared at one another, Chaeyoung glaring with protective rage in her eyes while her brother glared at her with frustration and exhaustion. Chaeyoung growled and looked back to stare at you, her eyes softened for a moment until you let out another whimper of pain, prompting her to turn back to her brother with a harsher glare than before.

“Will you make this easier for her already?!”

“Childbirth isn’t something which is supposed to be easy Chaeyoung, especially not when it involves your child.”

Chaeyoung gritted her teeth before turning back to you, placing the damp rag down to instead cradle your cheek, tenderly stroking your cheekbone with her thumb as you continued to groan and whimper in pain.

“It will all be worth it in the end my love, just a little bit longer.”

Despite the obvious pain you were in, you simply nodded at the Goddess of Love and Chaeyoung responded with a tender kiss to your lips, trying her best to take your mind off the obvious pain you were experiencing. She wishes that she could take your place to elevate your pain, but she was unfortunately not in the position to do so, and so she had no choice but to remain by your side during your labor as your body prepped itself to give birth to her and your first child.

While she knows that her brother is the God of Medicine and Healing, she fully wanted to throttle him because she felt that he was not doing his job, especially since you were still in pain despite the many charms he was uttering for you. Chaeyoung saw no reason of why you had to suffer so much, but according to her brother, it was impossible for a human not to experience pain during childbirth because it was literally their body which was going through painful changes to accommodate the newborn babe.

It was a fact that Chaeyoung had to accept, but that didn’t mean she liked it. In fact, she hated it, but she could only hold your hand and continue to spout tender words to you as your body was eventually ready to push, her brother talking you through the entire process while Chaeyoung remained by your side, waiting anxiously for the infamous cry of your and her child.

/ - /

Chaeyoung couldn’t take her eyes off him, her arms cradling him in a protective hold as his makeshift blanket ruffled against her arms as he moved his arms about, clearly adjusting himself to the new world he has been born into. Despite the heated glares and shouts they had shared, Chaeyoung’s brother gave her a smile as she handed off her newborn son.

“Congratulations sis, its a boy.”

Chaeyoung didn’t acknowledge his words as she continued to stare down at the beautiful sight in her arms. While Chaeyoung was the very representation and essence of beauty in this world and all its many other realms, she couldn’t help but bow in submission to the little babe in her arms. Despite his eyes still being tightly closed shut, she couldn’t help but feel she was staring into the eyes of the very universe, before even the creation of the gods that held the answers to everything from the beginning.

“Chaeyoung?” Your voice called out, tired and fatigued but also happy, prompting Chaeyoung to turn around and face you as you continued to lay in bed.

You looked exhausted and pale, most definitely due to the intensive hours of labor you were forced to endure, but you had a glow around you which made you look ethereal to Chaeyoung. The Goddess of love suddenly smiled at you, stepping forward and taking a seat beside you before looking down at the newborn babe in her arms.

“We have a son love.” She whispered, still mesmerized by the fact that she was holding her son in her arms. You hummed and reached out to trace a finger along his forehead, a tired smile on your face.

“Yes...a son.” You repeated, turning to glance at Chaeyoung only for her not to pay too much mind to it because her focus was entirely fixed on the babe. You chuckled. “Am I allowed to hold him?”

“Huh? Oh...Oh! Yes, of course my love!”

Chaeyoung couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment at being caught completely unaware of her selfish actions despite it being you who had delivered your and her son in the first place. Chaeyoung heard her brother snicker at her expense but decided to ignore it as she slowly shifted her son into your arms, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and she pressed herself against your side, not wanting to be separated from you or her son for even a moment. She pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Well done, my love.” She cooed, which prompted a giggle out of you.

“I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you.” Chaeyoung pressed another kiss to your temple.

“I’m just glad you are okay now. I hate seeing you in pain.”

“After seeing this treasure...it was worth it.”

Both you and Chaeyoung smiled down at your son, mesmerized at the very sight of him and allowing each other to revel in each other’s presence with the promise that you and the babe are safe from any possible dangers. Chaeyoung’s brother murmured his departure to the two of them, but Chaeyoung stopped him with a look.

“Thank you.” She uttered, which he answered back with a smile.

“It was a pleasure sis. I am honored to be the first one to meet my nephew.”

And then he vanished, leaving Chaeyoung and her small family behind in your bedroom, enveloped in a haze of warmth and happiness.

Lisa

Gods and goddesses are renowned for their reputations of being bad parents, courtesy of their inability of being there fore their children when they needed it the most. Being the Goddess of War, almost nothing terrified Lisa, and yet it came to meeting you to figure out she did have a fear after all and that was to be a terrible parent like her parents were to her.

At the beginning, she never wanted a child, especially not with you because then it would put you at risk. Demigod children were notoriously known for being difficult births and after everything you have lived through, she did not want you life line to be cut all because you wanted a child with Lisa. But like the warships in a war, you eventually wore down her walls and she gave in, but now a whole new level of fear was created because she wondered about her possible future with you and her child.

It is almost embarrassing with how much time she spent with her older sister Jennie to try prepare herself for parenthood, especially since her sister had recently become a parent herself. But unlike Jennie, Lisa never really was the favorite because of her more...rebellious nature, but it did not phase Jennie much as she was more than happy to impart her words of wisdom to her younger sister, her partner even informing Lisa of how to care for you before and after the birth of the child.

When the due date already came, Lisa was scared to her wits end. She could face the battle of war, the corpses that were the results of the bloody battle, but nothing could ever prepare her for the fear she felt when she watched you scream in pain as you gave birth to the child. It almost didn’t seem worth it, no pain could be worth anything, especially not when Lisa could not do much about it. She eventually got so panicked and terrified that you all but ordered her out the room, unable to focus on the process when she was pulling daggers to the healers throats as they tried to help her during the birth.

It was almost as if Jennie sensed her panic because while Lisa was pacing outside of the healer tent, Jennie appeared beside her and grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at her.

“You need to breathe.”

“But Y/N is-”

“Lisa. Breathe.”

Despite her desire to shove her sister away from her, she instead obeyed and matched the slow, heavy breathing pace that her sister was instigating to try calm her raging heart, eventually getting it under control. Jennie remained by her side for a small while until the sound of a baby crying caught both of their attention, Lisa’s head snapping in the direction of the tent. Jennie smiled and nudged Lisa in the back.

“Go.”

Lisa did not need to be told twice. The goddess all but sprinted to the healers camp and pushed herself inside, eyes immediately going to your bed with your body laying in it. You were holding a small bundle in your arms and had the most serene smile on your face as you softly cooed at the bundle and slowly rocked your arms. A lump formed in Lisa’s throat and she didn’t even realize she was walking towards you until she was finally at the foot of your bed, your head raising to lock your eyes with hers. You smiled at her.

“Come meet your son Lisa.”

Her son.

Lisa’s lips parted at the information, her eyes widening before she slowly made her way to stand by her side and peer down at the very carbon copy of you. Even though it was a newborn babe, Lisa couldn’t already tell it had your nose and mouth shape, your adorable plump cheeks staring up at her, as well as your signature dark locks. You beamed up at Lisa before removing one arm from under the babe to pat the space next to you.

“Sit with me.”

Lisa hesitated for a moment before obeying, taking a seat next to you with her eyes still transfixed on the babe in your arms. And then you were suddenly handing it to her.

“Wha- Y/N!!”

“It’s a baby Lisa, not a bomb.”

Lisa suddenly became panicked at the idea of holding the babe, it hardly being something she was used to holding, but then she found herself cradling her son, him being surprisingly heavy despite being so small. Lisa just stared wide-eyed at the babe, glancing between you and him before trembling from the weight of him in her arms. You huffed a taught and then moved a pillow under arms to help give her and him some support.

“That better?”

“I...yes.”

Lisa shifted on the bed so that she was now laying more comfortably beside you with her back pressed against the headboard and her legs laid out in front of her. She kept a firm hold on the babe, warily eyeing him before looking at you, an uncharacteristic nervous look on her face.

“Are...are you okay?” You smiled at her.

“Of course Lisa, I’m still here.”

“Yes but...you...he...” Lisa was unsure on what to say, a mixture of emotions boiling up within her, but then panic set in when the babe began to wiggle and cry in her arms, making the goddess want to bolt from the bed but she was rooted on the spot due to your hand placed on her arm.

“He is okay Lisa. Just rock him a little bit. Yes, just like that.”

Lisa felt so awkward doing such subtle movements in an attempt to appease her crying son, to the extent that the healers in the tent chuckled at the sight of the Goddess of War becoming terrified at the aspect of a crying child. But they immediately paled when Lisa flashed them a fiery glare.

“I don’t know how to do this Y/N.” She eventually confessed, her glares forcing the healers to flee from the tent. She expected anger or annoyance, but instead you smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“It’s okay. You’ll learn, just like me. We’ll learn together.”

Lisa fixed you with a disbelieving look but then snapped her head at her son as she realized that he was questioning down, her awkward rocks being enough to seduce him back to sleep. Lisa stared wide eyed at her achievement and felt you kiss her cheek again.

“See? Fast learner.”

And Lisa couldn’t help but smile her first smile ever since you got pregnant, nodding before resettling herself on the bed, being sure to support her son properly as he continued to sleep in her arms.

[notyour-valentine]

a charlotte blurb on the day of her birth?

A blurb is supposed to be short, right? Well, rambling old me failed - here's a oneshot instead. Thank you so much for asking. This was fun to do especially since the circumstances of her birth will play into the main storyline massively. This was written as part of my crossover series Welcome to Downton, Mr. Shelby

"Lady Grantham's fourth daughter"

Cinncinati born Countess of Grantham has given birth to another daughter, making the fourth. [The Earl of Grantham, Robert Crawley then Viscount Downton, married on February 16th 1890 to Miss Cora Levinson, only daughter of Mr. Isidore Levinson, and now has four daughters: Mary, b. 1891; Edith, b. 1892; Sybil, b. 1895; and the present infant. As yet there is no son and heir to the Earldom.

The door was what woke her, the slightest clinking of the lock. Or maybe it was the renewed warmth that came from the foot of her bed.

They came almost every hour, to make sure their beds were warm enough, and that the fireplace was still crackling. 

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, glancing first at the slight gap between the curtains. 

Outside was a wall of white. Like yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before that, and the month too. 

It didn’t even have to have snowed again. Whatever had fallen since before Christmas just remained there. Perhaps they could go sleighing, she thought, but only if it was all over. 

Maybe it was already over. 

Glancing to the other side of the room, she saw Edith still fast asleep, her golden curls spread on the pillow with her teddy clutched in her arms. 

And the door to the baby’s nursery, Sybil’s nursery, was still shut, keeping Nanny within. Well, not infinitely, so Mary decided to take her chance while she still had it. 

Exchanging her woolen night stockings for her slippers, she reached for her robe. It was pale blue and wonderfully fluffy, but not as warm as usual, since she got up before the maids had a chance to warm it. 

Holding her breath, Mary confirmed that Edith was still asleep, and the Nanny still with Sybil next door, before she slipped out into the corridor. 

The light coming from the entrance hall confirmed what the gap in the curtains had told her. It was already morning. The judgment was sealed by the front door opening. Anthony, one of the footmen entered, his face hidden behind a thick woolen scarf, rushing in first before Bes slipped through.

“No, no Bes - the carpet!”, he called after the dog who was leaping up the stairs before either he or Carson could catch her, wagging her tail and spraying droplets of molten snow everywhere as she went to greet Mary, rubbing her icy cold nose against her palm and wrist. 

“Good morning, Milady.”, she heard Carson say, having come up from the entrance hall. “Are you up already?”

“Yes.”, Mary said, building herself up to her full height and looking at his dark eyes and black hair. 

“May I go see Ma- Lady Grantham?”, she asked. Fräulein Kelder had scolded Edith just last week for referring to their parents as Mama and Papa to staff. She wouldn’t make the same mistake now. 

Carson was kind enough to ignore her fumble. 

“I’m sure she will be delighted to see you, just not yet. I’m afraid Lady Grantham is still very busy.”

Mary sighed deeply. “Still?”, she asked. 

Carson stretched out his hand and she took it, allowing him to take her back to the nursery. 

“Your grandmother is with her, as are the doctors from the hospital. She is in the best of hands, I assure you.”

Mary couldn’t help but frown. Her mother had been so absent-minded in the last few weeks, and everyone was so restless. 

“That she is!”

They both turned to see her grandmother standing in the corridor. She had been staying here for the last two weeks, since the roads were practically frozen and she wanted to be close to her mother. 

“Good morning, Granny.”; Mary said, offering her a smile. 

“Yes, morning to you too, dear.”, she said in a rush. “Carson, I think it would be wise for the girls to take their breakfast downstairs for a change, and that they be allowed to play games in the salon or library.”

“Breakfast downstairs for the gir-oh yes, yes of course.”

Whatever it was, it had taken Carson a moment to realise, but he then jumped at the chance to hurry them all out of the nursery, and downstairs. They were met on the steps by maids carrying jugs of warm water and more towels. 

The only time they were allowed to eat breakfast in the dining room was when they had a birthday or on Christmas Morning, so it was a rare treat, sitting in the big chairs, with Carson there and not just the nursery maids. But Mary found herself glancing up at the ceiling. 

Treat indeed…Mary scoffed, but she didn’t know what to ask, or how, so she just watched. 

Downstairs it was just as warm as upstairs, with all the fires lit, the curtains half drawn even during the day and added pillows to keep even the slightest ghosts of air out. And candles, candles were everywhere Sybil couldn’t reach them. 

Over their winter dresses, Fräulein Kelder made them all wear extra cardigans to be sure, with Sybil crying and fussing until Bes made her forget all about it. 

Since it was too cold to take their morning walks, they moved some sofas in the library to give them space to run and play, as well as ringing down all sorts of games from the nursery. 

But Mary didn’t want to play. She couldn’t hear what was happening upstairs, but she had counted the times people rushed up and down the steps, paid close attention to whomever came in and who whispered to whom. 

For a while there had been mad rushing, up, up, up, always up, some down, but mostly up, and always in great haste. 

Then, one by one, people were making their way down. Slowly, without any rush. Without any haste. 

“It’s over.”, she said under her breath, so quietly only Edith could hear. “What do you mean?”, Edith asked.

“Mama.”, was all Mary said. 

“You don’t know that. They haven’t said.”

Mary didn’t need them to tell her, she knew. They reason they were sent downstairs, the rushing of the maids, the haste of all those that took the stairs, and the calm descent. 

But why weren’t they telling them?

Her stomach tightened in knots. Sybil was too little to know, and Edith too stupid to understand. 

Luckily, she at least kept Bes busy so she wouldn’t give her away again, especially as Sybil had yet another outburst at the scratchiness of her cardigan and put a right fight up against Nanny and Fräulein Kelder.  For the second time that day, Mary saw her chance and she took it, slipping through the door to the hall and sneaking up the stairs, making sure to keep her head low so no one would see her from below. If they weren’t going to tell her, she was going to go and find out for herself. 

The bust of King George III, or rather the cabinet it was displayed upon, was her greatest ally as she snuck to the bedroom her mother had moved into. It wasn’t her usual bedroom, but one closer to the stairs. 

Mary was about to knock when she heard her mother’s voice. “Robert was so sure.”

“Men are always sure.”, she heard her grandmother answer. “And then they are wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”, Mary asked, pushing the door open to enter. 

“Mary!”, her grandmother scolded, but she didn’t care. Instead, she looked to the bed. 

Her mother was pale, and she looked like she hadn’t slept much, but then again she had been tired in the last few weeks anyway, resting up against a good dozen white pillows. 

Beside the bed was the crib, the same one Sybil had been in, and Edith, and Mary and Aunt Rosamund and Papa and all the other Crawleys before him probably, and inside, was a baby. 

It was sleeping, with red lips slightly parted. There was nothing much to see but the squished face babies had, and the bundle it was wrapped up in. There looked to be nothing amiss with it. It was sleeping just fine. And if the baby was fine and her mother was fine, there was only one thing that could be wrong. 

“It’s a girl.”, Mary said, turning back to her mother and grandmother. 

“Yes.”, her grandmother said. “It’s a girl.”

But it was supposed to be a boy. 

When she reached her mother’s bed, she sat down on the edge and took her hand. 

“Are you sad, Mama?”, she asked. 

Her mother took a deep breath and offered her a small smile, but it wasn’t a real one. Her mother didn’t smile small smiles. Sometimes Granny said that was what made her so American. 

Her own hand came to cover Mary’s, warm and soft. 

“It’s not what we all hoped for.”, she said, her blue eyes shining. 

Yes, Mary thought, a boy would have been better. A boy would have been an heir. 

“Well,”, Granny said with her usual decisiveness as if she was a judge in a sentencing, “there’s no changing it now.”

Within three long strides, she had crossed the room to stand behind Mary. 

“You are well, and you have delivered a healthy daughter Cora. There is reason for gratitude in that too.”

Her mother took another deep breath, glancing at the crib. Mary’s eyes followed her gaze.  A baby. A sister. Another one.

At least she wasn’t screaming, and that was something at least.

~

Thank you for requesting!

[nocasdatsgay]

The Price You Pay For Power Ch. 1

An ACOSF AU Neris Fanfic

Summary: Eris revises his bargain with Rhysand: Nesta for Autumn Healers. He agrees and Nesta is sent to Autumn under the guise as Eris’s new bride in order to assist with removing Beron for good. Now she has to navigate a new court and also decide just how much she will trust her new husband.

Author’s Note: I did it. I started it. CWs are posted under the read more. Full list on AO3; more will be added as story progresses as needed.

AO3 Link | Master Post | Ch. 1 Under Read Below

CW: Brief Flashback to a Vanserra Brother’s birth and Lady of Autumn’s (basically) C-Section.

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhysand’s patience was already at its limit when Eris walked into the office down in Hewn City. An impromptu meeting, requesting only Rhys’s presence. He didn’t hide his annoyance at the Autumn Heir while those amber eyes raked over him. 

“You look awful,” Eris flung his hair back over his shoulder with a quick turn of his head. He sat in the first chair closest to the door. 

“I don’t have time for your smart mouth,” Rhys growled. “Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. Or get out.”

“I think it’s time to take out my father.” Eris replied, back straightened and staring at Rhys. “He’s been visiting the continent more. With his alliance to that human crone, things are about to get very complicated.”

“We already have a bargain.”

“And I’m calling it. I want Nesta.” 

Night fell off of Rhys as his anger mounted. “No.”

“Just until my father is dead.” His eyes rolled and leaned on the arm of his chair. “So dramatic. We smuggle her in under the guise that she accepted my proposal. She helped kill the King of Hybern, she can help kill Beron. She will be safe, my father is terrified of her.”

“No.” 

Eris studied him. “I’ll give you anything you ask.” 

“You have nothing I want.”

“Not even, say, skilled healers?” 

Time stood still for a moment. Rhys knew he gave himself away with silence. But there was no possible way for Eris to know. No one knew but the inner circle. 

“Why would I need healers?” 

“You’re not as discreet as you think you are.” Eris smiled wickedly. “There’s something wrong with the babe in your mate’s womb.” 

In a blink Rhys was across the table, yanking Eris from his chair by his neck. Darkness filled the room while he held him by his throat against the wall. 

“What do you know?” He said through gritted teeth. 

“You’ve been searching Prythian for anything and everything to do with birthing children with wings.” Eris didn’t bother to pull at Rhys’s hold. He choked out, “our healers can perform the process to remove the babe safely that you’re looking for.”

Rhys’s eyes were fully black, his grip tightened. “How do I know you aren’t lying?” 

“Put me down and I’ll show you.” 

Rhysand debated snapping his neck. But a part of him wanted to see. If he could save Feyre- he dropped his hold, letting Eris sputter and cough. 

“Show me. Now.” 

Rhysand reached into Eris’s mind and clawed hard at the wall. In a moment he was let in. 

“The babe is stuck,” a healer- Edith, Eris’s mind supplied, said. 

She pulled out her bag and through Eris’s eyes he heard him say, “you can’t.” 

“I know what I’m doing boy. Stand back and let me save your mother.” 

It was indeed the Lady of Autumn lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. Eris’s mind supplied that the babe stuck was the second youngest son, Leon. His twin had been born without issue but he was not head down. She had also started bleeding profusely. One of the other healers handed Eris his wailing brother. 

“Why were you there?” Rhysand asked. 

“They called for my father but he couldn’t be bothered.” Eris replied. “Keep watching.” 

While Eris held his brother, Edith shook the lady awake. She forced her to down two potions. One was for pain, the other for blood loss. The other healer ripped open part of her gown, baring her rounded stomach. Rhys held his breath while he watched them cut her open carefully and extract the baby. More wails filled the room and Eris had put his other brother in a cradle to be handed the second bloody babe. Rhys nearly fell to his knees. They worked quickly, patching up the wound and pouring a tonic on her stomach to seal it. The lady was awake but showed no signs of pain. 

She looked at Eris. “Let me see my babies.” 

Rhys pulled out of his mind, nearly stumbling. Eris only watched him, waiting. 

“You’ll swear them to secrecy.” He felt like his breath was getting away from him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “We will make another bargain. Nesta will help you kill your father under the guise of accepting your proposal. In return, your healers will look after Feyre.”

“I know my father and he will push for a real marriage. I will delay it as much as possible but if I cannot, I will annul it but only at her request.” 

“You will annul it,” Rhys growled out. “Whether she requests it or not.”

“You never know,” a ghost of a smile graced his lips. “She may like being married to me. Better than that oaf of a general.”

Night started to pour from Rhys again. “Stop testing my patience.” 

“Fine,” Eris held out his hand. “We have another agreement.” 

Rhys gripped his hand tight and magic washed over them both. He felt the tattoo from the previous bargain change. 

Eris pulled his hand back first. “I want her to be brought here tomorrow. I will come and retrieve her.”

“I’ll bring her to the palace. Now get out of my sight.” Rhys said, throwing out his hand in dismissal. 

The moment he felt Eris leave, Rhys sat at his desk and wept. Part of him felt it was too good to be true if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. He could finally save his mate and his baby. He just had to break the news to his brother what it cost him. 

—

Nesta didn’t know what to expect when she was summoned to one of the study’s in the house of wind. When she went to leave the library, Clotho had a message for her to meet Rhys in the far end study. She steeled herself before entering, not bothering to knock. 

The room was small, just a bookshelf to the right and a few plush red chairs near a window. The only tables were small side tables. A rust oval rug laid on the floor. She stood in the middle of it. 

Rhysand was sitting in the left chair and did not look at her when she entered. He had his leg crossed over his knee and a stack of papers in his lap. She almost cleared her throat to get his attention but he finally spoke, still not looking up. 

“Nesta.”

“Rhys. You summoned me?” She crossed her arms across her chest. 

“I did.” Rhysand did not look her in the eye. He sat his papers on the side table and moved his leg. He put his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “I’ll get to the point. I need you to accept Eris’s proposal.”

“Excuse me?” 

When Nesta danced with Eris in Hewn City, she knew of his proposal. She even debated accepting it on her own. But to be told she didn’t have a choice? 

“You will marry Eris.” He acted as if she had not protested. “You will help him obtain the throne with your powers.”

A flash of anger rolled through Nesta. “You cannot ask that of me.”

“I can and I will.” He said coldly. He still did not look her in the eyes. “There is no debate this time.”

“What about Cassian?” She narrowed her gaze at him. Cassian was his brother. He cared about him more than her. 

“Cassian will get over it.” Nesta felt like she had been struck. Rhysand finally looked up at her, tears in his hardened eyes. “It’s to save Feyre, Nesta. Eris has promised me healers in exchange for your hand and aid. Healers who have dealt with difficult births before.”

“How do you know he isn’t lying?” Her breath quickened and the feeling of betrayal washed over her. Her arms fell to her side. 

“I’ve seen it. With my own eyes. They extracted a babe from a female and they both lived. Feyre and the baby will live, Nesta. All you have to do is be selfless for once in your life.”

“After the baby is born? Can I come home?” Rhysand did not answer her. “What are you going to tell Cassian?” 

“I’ve already told him.”

Nesta shook her head. “He would never allow this.” 

“Go ask him yourself.” Rhysand’s stare turned colder. “He agreed to save Feyre. You’ll be sent to Autumn tomorrow. I suggest you pack your things.” 

“I will not go.” 

“You will,” night flared around him, his violet eyes flashing. Then he reigned it in and leaned back in his chair. “You’re dismissed, Nesta.”

“I want to speak to my sister.” A last ditch effort on her end. “Feyre won’t allow this.”

“You will not say a word of this arrangement to Feyre,” Rhysand’s voice was laced with a command that washed over her. “You will not give her added stress.”

Angry tears welled in her eyes but she held her chin up. Fine, she thought. She would find Cassian. He would make Rhys see reason. Chin still high, she turned and left the study. She went to the kitchen and found Cassian sitting at the table, head in his hand. When she entered, Cassian glanced over at her before looking down at the ground. 

“He told you?”

“Cassian, you can’t allow this!” He refused to look at her. “Cassian!” 

“It’s to save Feyre and the baby, Nes,” his voice soft, almost a whisper. He still wouldn’t look at her. 

“There are other ways,” tears filled her eyes again. 

He shook his head. “The agreement has been made. Rhys gave an order.” 

“Then fight it.” Fight for me, she wanted to add. He remained silent. “You’ll allow him to marry me to a monster because of an order?” 

“I trust Rhys,” Cassian finally looked her in the eyes, his gaze hardened. “It’s to save your sister, the baby, and Rhys.” 

“What about me?” She yelled, pointing her own finger at her chest. 

“Not everything is about you, Nesta. This is life or death. Do you not care if Feyre dies?”

Something snapped inside her. It was possible the disbelief that he thought this plan would work. It was partly because after everything- after she opened herself up to him, he so easily tossed her aside for Rhys. Tossed her to the wolves because his High Lord said so. If he would harden his heart like this, then so would she. She steeled her features and stiffened her back, holding her head up high. 

“You’re right. I’ll go pack my things.”

Each step as she turned and walked out of the room, she chanted in her mind for him to chase her. To change his mind. To prove her wrong. To choose her. She reached her room and when he did not follow, she shut the door and locked it. She willed the house to not allow him in, not that he would try. She barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a sob. 

Next Chapter

[atlasxspeaks]

I was thinking about all the blue-colored characters I like in media, and my brain went, "What if Spider was a mutant and looked/had power like Nightcrawler?" So here's that:

Both Paz and Quaritch have dormant X genes that get passed down to Spider. On Earth, he would have been killed in infancy because mutant babies are deemed too dangerous. If they are thought to be very powerful, then they get experimented on and die before adulthood.

At first, Spider is born looking "normal"; the only odd thing is that he has webbed fingers and toes. However, his “normal” appearance doesn’t stay normal for long as his body begins to develop, and the X gene kicks in, causing his skin to turn dark blue. His fingers fuse together until he only has three fingers on each hand and two toes. His palms and soles also become very sticky, allowing him to stick to surfaces and crawl around, hence the nickname. He grows a tail with barbs he can throw and contain a paralytic substance. His teeth sharpen, and his eyes turn from a warm brown to pitch black. The only thing about him that stays normal is his blonde hair. He gets all the hallmark powers of Nightcrawler (basically teleporting and being extremely agile), but he also inherits the ability to shapeshift like his other ancestor, Mystique. His shapeshifting manifest is the ability to shift his physic in any way to maximize his survival chances - his body does this automatically. child to allow him to breathe Pandora’s air.

Paz, who knew she was a descendant of Nightcrawler, knew this was possible and made a contingency plan. She flies one of those metal bunkers deep into the forest past where the RDA scanners can find and slowly stocks it up with enough supplies for them for years. She also starts learning about Pandora's flora and fauna from Grace, the only person who knows she is pregnant and that the baby could be a mutant. They leave during the Great Battle at the end of the first movie, and Spider grows up as a healthy, loved baby for 15 years until the humans return (he's younger in this AU because Paz gives birth days before the final battle).

Paz and Spider get kidnapped when they're out foraging by Quaritch's team, and Admore tells Spider he can either work for them to shave time off his mother's prison sentence for deserting her post or die with her in an execution. Spider obviously chooses the most self-sacrificing route and goes through very brutal training to become the perfect soldier. He and Quaritch have a very fucked up relationship in this AU because he uses Spider's destress to gain his loyalty, but they're not as close as in AWOW.

When the recoms find Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam in the forest, Quaritch calls for Spider’s assistance (a reference to X-men: First Class, where Azazel, Nightcrawler’s father, is summoned using a high-pitched whistle). He appears right before the children’s eyes in a puff of black and blue smoke, and they’re convinced he’s the Devil their dad and the scientists refer to when talking about Earth mythology.

With Spider there, the fight is a lot more brutal. He stabs Neytiri through her ribs and almost kills Jake, but more Navi show up as their backup, forcing the recoms to retreat. Before they do though, Quaritch orders Spider to take Jake, but since he's too heavily surrounded, Spider takes Neteyam instead. His reasoning is that any hostage is a good hostage.

Queue the few months of Spider and Neteyam bonding as Neteyam realizes Spider is just as much of a prisoner as he is to the RDA. He hatches a plan to escape, but Spider often waffles between wanting to help or not because he’s fighting the fear of what will happen to his mom with the fear of freedom.

All this culminates with the recoms discovering Jake in Awa’ulta (the Sullys leave because Neytiri is injured and Jake won’t risk her or anyone else being hurt for him). They bring Spider’s mom along to keep him in line, and that final battle begins with Neteyam crashing the boat when he sees Lo’ak and Tuk on the deck at gunpoint. Instead of Lo'ak and Neteyam going to find Spider, it's Lo'ak and Ao'nung - who gets shot but lives. Paz also is shot on their escape route, and she does die on the rock in canon!Neteyam fashion. Instead of Jake and Neytiri having their “strong heart” talk, it's Neteyam and Spider.

“Spider, Spider! Hey! Look at me!” Neteyam grabs the boy’s face and stares into his black eyes. They look more dead now than ever before. “I need you with me! And I need you to be strong," He places his hand over the Spider's heaving chest, "Strong heart! We have to help find my sisters. No one else dies today.”

Queue Spider going on an absolute rampage on the ship because he’s losing his mind, and Neytiri, Ronal, and Tonowari having simultaneous breakdowns because they knew humans were dangerous, but why is this one blue and disappearing into thin air.

I don't know what would happen after that, but it was a fun thought.

[i-m-a-leaf-on-the-wind]

hello! i am here to kindly ask you for some recommendations of the dirtiest or kinkiest milex fanfics ever, please 😊

Oh Hello 😏 Some smutty fics : - Born to Blow Your Mind - SilverStuff50 [Alex has been annoyingly nice over the last three weeks, and Miles has to force the situation in order to carry out his carefully constructed plan. Or, Miles forces Alex to be naughty just so he can punish him. Smut ensues.]

-Been Away too Long to be Afraid - Stereobone (@stereobone) 📍restricted access!!! [Miles goes to visit Alex in Los Angeles to get his mind off his recent breakup. It works far better than expected.]

-Moonage Daydream - ReconciledViolence (@reconciledviolence729) [As a last-minute Halloween party leaves Alex scrambling for a costume, a trip to a mom-and-pop costume shop provides for some very unique opportunities for dress up. Miles finds himself at the mercy of Alex’s mercurial whims as he tries on outfit after outfit. But will Alex ever find that perfectly clever costume? And will Miles manage to keep himself from falling completely to bits? Or: Alex is skilled at the art of tormenting Miles, and Miles loves it. Also: Will they ever even make it to the party?]

-Knee Deep - Justsomehobbit [“All aboard the Kane train...” His eyes drooped in a way that a sober mans wouldn’t, and hair tickled his upper brow where it had yet to mat against his glistening forehead. The deep rumble of bass reverberated up his legs and into his chest where it fought the tempo of his heart beat, slow thumps pulsing in his ears. “All aboard...the Kane train.”]

-How Deep - Syntheticpalindromes 📍restricted access!!! [The drive to pick Alex up from LAX is decidedly fast. Miles is aware he’s probably going far too fast down the highway, but he can’t help it. It’s the middle of the night, the best time for a renowned rock star to arrive at LAX to avoid too many photos, and there’s no one on the roads much. His hands twist on the steering wheel as he parks and power walks to the arrivals lounge, insides buzzing and warm. Very much embarrassing if he were to voice it but, it’s hard going without Alex for more than a few weeks. And the space between November and the New Year when neither of them really see each other, is practically hell.]

-(In C for Two Virgins) - Syntheticpalindromes 📍restricted access!!! [He drifted into the kitchen after that, now a little afraid to look at Miles as he passed the living room. How did one go about shagging their best mate for the first time without there being some sort of small talk or awkwardness beforehand? Well, he assumed it was alright for people that weren’t him, but his brain stuttered and hiccuped on the best of days, let alone when trying to work out how to approach the situation of sleeping with a man he’d probably been in love with for years.]

-Telephone Line - GasDancer (@gasdancer) [After a tumultuous year between them, Alex travels back to LA while Miles is touring across Europe. One night, after a few drinks, Alex decides to make a bold move.]

-Why Won't You Wear Your New Trench Coat? - GasDancer (@gasdancer) [''His dread is not comforted the least bit when Alex barrels through the door, barely making eye contact and not even muttering a "hello". This is it, Miles thinks as he closes the door, terror seizing him up like a fist. He's come to end it once and for all. There was no recovery, not really, and the past week was just a blip on a very dark radar. It's only as he starts coming to terms with his fate, eyes raking Alex's body up and down to commit him to memory, that he realises Alex's calves are bare under the thick, black trench coat.'']

-Bring Your Love Baby, I Could Bring My Shame - GasDancer (@gasdancer) [This here, though, Miles' commanding gaze, and Alex's nearly full surrender to it, is reserved for very specific moments, when they're electrified and pumped from a gig, and they've gone past the point of sobriety. Alex is not sober.]

-Joie de Vivre & The Boy with the Thorn in His Side - GasDancer (@gasdancer) Two parts from the Young Volcanoes serie

-Save It for the Morning After - England_is_Mine (@england-is-mine) [Miles returns after weeks on the road, leaving a sleepy and aroused Alex waiting for him.]

-Blame It On the Summertime - Elorianna (@elorianna) [Alex and Miles are touring with their second album during what feels like an endless summer. The release of the record has brought them to a new place in their relationship, and Alex is keen to enjoy every moment of their time together for all that it’s worth…]

-Little Mister Sweet Dreams - IDontGiveA [To him, Miles was what dreams consisted of.]

-Color Me In - / [And the very moment when Alex admitted that he loved Miles back.]

-Vertigo - / [“We don’t have to, you know. I was just telling you me fantasies, Al. You can forget about it.” Miles cut him off and went back to loudly chewing those chocolate flakes. Alex probably shouldn’t find it adorable, but he did. That might have just proved he was equally weird. He admitted suddenly. “I can’t.” Miles frowned at him and Alex continued. “I keep…thinking about what you said.”]

-Boy's Behavior - / [By the end of that, Alex was definitely tired.]

-What Goes Around, Comes Around - Horrormoviesshoes (@horrormoviesshoes) [The story behind The Last Shadow Puppet's Coachella backstage photo.]

-Cupcakes On a Rainy Day - Sickpuppyinexile [Miles is busy with cupcakes but Alex has something else in mind]

-Soft Sighs - Tightredpants (@tightredpants) [An intimate moment.]

-Stop Making the Eyes at Me - Alexturne (@alexturne) [He turned to look at Alex, took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the quite unbuttoned neck of his shirt. His eyes roamed over Alex rather shamelessly, slowly looking him up and down as an appreciative smirk formed on his lips, and Alex suddenly felt hot all over. Or: Alex gets stuck inside an elevator with a hot stranger and a bottle of whiskey and they need to find a way to pass the time.]

-You're so Pretty and I'm so Shy - Alexturne (@alexturne) [“Fine, if you’re so shy then why don’t you write him a note? Like in the films, write your number on a slip of paper, give it to him or slip it into his pocket or summat.” “That might work!” “I was kidding Alex!”]

[dark-elf-writes]

Arco27 kids!!!!

Reborn deserves nothing but the terror of a baby girl with all his manipulative and sadistic tendencies with Tsuna’s softer features

His baby girl would also kick anyone, including him, for intruding on her mama time

Fon also gives girl dad energy in the complete opposite direction

He has a baby’s girl who loves both him and Tsuna who gets treated like a princess (the two agree Tsuna is the best and needs to be protected at all cost)

Mammon and Tsuna’s kid notoriously dislikes anyone that isn’t their parents and uses mist flames to switch genders every other hour

Skull and Tsuna absolutely deserve twins together who are total rascal and daredevils

I don’t know about the rest of them

DID YOU READ MY MIND REBORN BEING BULLIED BY HUS DAUGHTER WAS ABSOLUTELY THERE

Okay but the kids

Reborn - girl, messy brown hair and black eyes, she has the curls like reborn but braids her hair back so they can’t be seen, an absolute terror of a child and Tsuna’s little princess, has bitten Reborn so hard her teeth marks are forever a part of his hand and will do so again, a lot of playful glaring between her and Reborn over Tsuna’s affection, once broke another kids nose because they said Reborn wasnt the greatest hitman and absolute refuses to admit that’s the reason

Skull - TWINS TWINS TWINS a boy and a girl. The boy has brown hair and purple eyes while the girl has purple hair and brown eyes. everyone else claims they’re demon children but Tsuna and Skull think they’re the absolute sweetest if a little excitable. At least one of them is always in a cast or a sling through most of their childhood because they keep daring each other to do another stunt. Absolute pranksters. Very much a “colorful bandage and tiny leather jackets” vibe for them

Fon - the sweetest girl with messy black hair and big dark eyes. She tries to keep her hair in a braid like Fon’s but it falls out in like an hour unable to be tamed. Very sweet and gentle for the most part but can punch straight through concrete before she’s five. Pretty floral dresses with her knuckles wrapped like a boxer energy. She will fight for Tsuna given any reason and she will win looking adorable dammit.

Viper - mischief child. Gender is an illusion and they’re the master. Never looks the same way twice. Was born with brown hair and eyes. Will swindle anyone for money. Once charged Iemitsu three figures for a hug. Uninterested in anyone that’s not Viper or Tsuna. Prank master. Has beef with Muruko in particular and likes to make his life harder. No one but the two of them knows what the beef is.

Verde - NERD. SON. Brown hair and eyes. The thickest glasses you have ever seen. Constantly carrying around a book the size of his torso. Absolutely brutal and accurate insults basically as soon as he can talk. “Would you rather fight a duck sized horse or a hundred horse sized ducks… fascinating *scribbles answer down*” might be planning world domination. Might be writing fanfiction. No one knows.

Colonnello - a son that is his absolute clone. Blond haired blue eyed terror. Nerf gun child (threat). LOUD by god is he loud. The extrovert child. Makes friends with everyone but adores Reborn much to his father’s despair. Has broken every window in the manor twice. Will do so again.

Lal - Little boy. Blue hair brown eyes. Deceptively calm but with the worst temper the world has ever seen. Will bite. The most protective over Tsuna Lal can and will take care of herself. Pretends to be all tough. Will do anything for a hug from Tsuna

[symphonic-scream]

Back when the Legend of Korra finale first aired, I was a little baby gay and had a different tumblr which I believe I deleted. On said tumblr, I think I mentioned vaguely that I had an idea for fankids for them

It's been 9 years since I deleted that tumblr. It's going to be 10 years since the finale this December. The release of the (underwhelming) live action Last Airbender has brought me back to a show that truly changed my life, and made me feel seen as a queer, mixed native kid (I'm a quarter, my grandpa was full)

So. Here's a little post about those ocs, who I found in my old seventh grade french notes (I never paid attention in that class lmao)

Anyways!y Korrasami kids. Let's go over them

Hiroto Sato (Ref age 16)

So I imagine that once their lives were stable, that they'd want to have a baby. Asami would carry in my mind, just because Korra would be all worried about how her body would handle it after the poisoning thing. However, their plans go, twisted. Cause they have twins

Their first born is their son, named after Hiroshi Sato, though Asami didn't want to directly name him after her father because her feelings would be still complicated. So, Hiroto. He goes by Hiro, mostly, and he's a fire bender

His eyes are a dark brown/grey, and he keeps his hair at a sort of medium length? It curls slightly around his ears, and he'd need glasses starting at age 14. He likes warm, comfy clothes

Hiro isn't very physically, well, talented. He's clumsy, trips over his own feet sometimes, the kind of person who's thinking so hard he smacks into polls and apologizes to them. He'd nervously chew on the skin of his thumb as he works. Hiro's an awkward guy, not great at conversation. He's always had a knack for art, and wants to become a city planner. He's not a great bender, but he does like helping out in the kitchen

Yasuko Sato (Ref age 16)

Their only daughter and youngest bio child, it's younger twin Yasuko! Korra chose her name. She knows how much Asami's mom meant to her, and honestly, the baby looked a lot like the old photos of Yasuko. As much as a baby can, at least. Like her brother, she's a fire bender

She's nearly a carbon copy of Asami. Green eyes, wavy black hair, though she smiles a little crooked. She keeps her hair up in a high pony, and even though she needs glasses like her brother, she rarely wears them. She forgets them more often then not, and just takes his to read momentarily. She's, like, "sleeves? Never heard of them"

Yasuko showed real promise in fire bending when Korra first started teaching her, so she decided to get both twins a proper teacher. Yasuko wanted to be a hero like her Moma, and grew up wanting to help people. Her goal is to be a fire fighter! She's the funny friend, always makes others smile, a jokester

Kova Sato (Ref age 19)

So, the next three are all adopted. There was a disaster type happening in the furthest parts of the Northern Water Tribe, and Korra went to help in the aftermath. After helping with search and rescue efforts, she goes to visit the injured to sort of, give them hope

That's where she meets Kova. He's 9 at the time, yet he was working hard to use his water bending to help heal alongside the elder women. She talks to him while handing out some food shipped in from Republic City, and finds out he lost his parents, and has been looking after his younger brother

Long story short, both boys return to the city with her, and Asami ends up understanding why her wife couldn't leave them behind

Kova is a big guy. He's mixed water tribe earth nation, so while he's got dark skin, his eyes are a dark green, and his hair is messy, dark brown. Quiet guy, but tall for his age. Real gentle, there's a reason he has an affinity for healing. He's got little sun freckles too!

He's great with words. He's a blooming poet, writing the stories people tell him during healing sessions. Incredibly kind, loves the idea of memories making someone immortal. The first poems he writes are of his birth parents, and the second? Of his mom's, and his siblings.

Haoyu Sato (Ref age 12)

He's Kova's younger brother, and was only 2 when Korra took them in and brought them to Republic City.

Haoyu is just paler than his older brother, with darker, messier hair, and blue eyes. His smile is bright, pure joy and energy. He's an endless ball of energy, and reminds his mom's and grandparents of a young Korra; he knows he's hot shit. He's an earth bender, starting at age 6

He's obsessed with pro bending. But, he doesn't dream of being an athlete, but an announcer. Reading is tough for him, and he struggles a bit in school, but when he comes home each day, he's surrounded by love, and care. Asami is always happy to sit with him and help him make sense of his school work, gentle, kind, and patient

I imagine he'd wear someone like a hoodie and soft puffy pants, the kind that end above the ankle.

Gyaltsen Sato (Ref age 5)

The youngest, and again, not exactly a planned adoption. His mother was a newer air acolyte, and she didn't make it through the birth. Tenzin asked Korra and Asami to look after baby Gyaltsen away from the busy temple until someone could take him in, but, the mom's got attached

Just barely darker than Asami and the twins, Gyaltsen has the lightest hair in the family, and the darkest eyes. He's an airbender who shows extreme potential, and is one of Jinora's most promising young students

He's got this spark for life. Everything is so cool to him, so amazing, it's rare for him to be disappointed by something. He feels things strongly, and his Moma Korra sits with him to meditate and talk about his big feelings

He's still very young and growing up, so he's got time to become himself

--

ANYWAYS. THERE THEY ARE. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

[quitealotofsodapop]

LMK "Journey to the South" inspo characters:

All together they are "The Lunar Node Triplets"

Yuebei Xing:

The Moon Comet Star. The reincarnation of the Lady Bone Demon. And Shadowpeach daughter.

Yuebei was a planned baby, but a bunch of drama in Diyu caused LBD's soul to reincarnate then and there as the new baby. And cause Wukong to get two bonus twin boys in the process.

They were a little nervous that Yuebei would inherit her previous incarnation's personality, but the second the little girl started chirping and laughing they knew there was no danger.

She's born with black and white tuxedo pattern fur + a very pale skull-shaped face marking around her gray eyes. Her hair is a wild dark mess that's impossible to tame, much like her personality. Proudly displays her six red/green/icy-blue ears. Born with a small cleft palate.

Has a prideful, short-tempered personality, but is at her core a frustrated little kid. She has a lot of energy she wants to express and isn't sure how to do it. Through her trips to watching her Bama Macaque preform in the theatre, Yuebei has developed an interest in horror and crime drama. One of those little girls who'd perform various witchy rituals on their toys and stuff they find around the garden. Collects bones/bug husks she finds during her wanders - it terrified Wukong the first time he found her stash. Completely idolizes her dads and eldest siblings (especially her big sister Bai He). Thinks her little brothers are annoying (whos isn't?).

Jidu & Luohou:

The Lunar Node Twins.

Unplanned "Buy One, get Two free" deal carried by Wukong. The twins are little tortoiseshell-patterned menaces to society with moon-shaped face markings. Jidu's fur is more orange, while Luohou's has more black spots. Jidu's face marking is like a pair of crescent moons and has four orange ears - while Luohou has a rounder gibbous markings and four purple ears.

Currently only one braincell between them. Terrible for mischief. Both look up to Jin and Yin, much to their parents and older siblings' dismay. Frequently finishes eachothers sentences.

Both have limited "omniscient" hearing like Macaque. Jidu can hear things that are just about to happen, while Luohou has perfect memory of things said before. They enjoy creeping out their big brother MK with their prophecies.