#*heart eyes* hmmmmm

[alittlebitlexie]

I don't know what Tula's lie actually is, but I do think the specific moment that triggered the insight check was Tula touching her heart.

Also I think the First Ones might be humans.

[fideidefenswhore]

An old man representing 'Time' emerged from a cave [...] followed by his daughter 'Truth'—an unsubtle reference to Queen Mary's motto, 'Truth the Daughter of Time'. In Truth's hands was an English translation of the Bible that had been banned during Mary's reign. When Truth presented this to the new queen, Elizabeth kissed it reverently and thanked the city for its gift. The symbolism could not have been more obvious: the reformed faith, championed by Anne and adopted by her daughter, had triumphed.

Borman, Tracy. 2023. Anne Boleyn & Elizabeth I : The Mother and Daughter Who Forever Changed British History.

[mefilas]

today I am thinking about judge eyes fights in the lost judgement engine. tomorrow; the same.

[tronlightcyclerun]

going to a park ive never been to before this week and haha whys their di/ve coa/ster kindof .

[neovillains]

GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO

syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.

── nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )

note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.

He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as you’re already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly? 

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say. You didn’t need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition. 

You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didn’t think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife. 

Initially when he agreed, he didn’t think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. “Just… relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. “Yours looks perfect.” 

There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You don’t blame your husband for his envy— not one bit. However, you wouldn’t be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. “It is, isn’t it?”

Finally, you look over at your husband’s side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into. 

“Yours, on the otherhand…” You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a “hmmmmm…”

Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think you wanted me to fail.”

You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. “No, I didn’t.”

There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how he’d get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and he’d silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together. 

“Mmm,” Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. “No, I think you did.”

You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanami’s hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. “No, you’re just bad at this.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your “hey!” You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. “Just because your work is botched, doesn’t mean you can make mine the same.”

“Don’t worry,” Nanami hums. “I’ll fix it back for you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. “Oh, you mean, you’ll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.”

“What are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?” Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.

“No,” you snort. “Throw them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “So, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?”

“I love it when you get all whiny,” you comment, before shaking your head. “But, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didn’t expect you to fail so badly.”

“Y’know, you could’ve sugarcoated it a bit,” Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. “Make me feel like I didn’t do half as bad as I actually did.”

“I could’ve,” you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re all forgiven,” Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like you’re just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that he’ll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels whole— like both of you are sharing one breath. 

He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this. 

And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. You’re so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanami’s ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you can’t hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. “You just had to go and make it worse.”

“It’s your fault,” you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting that’s got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. “Is— Is this my pr-prize… for winning?”

He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that he’s been blessed to have. He’s not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything that’s you that he’s momentarily forgotten what was even asked. “It could,” he hums. “If you want it to be.”

“I’d like it to,” you breathe. 

“Then, I better do a good job, huh?” Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being. 

You remain as salacious as you’ve been since the first time he’s tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipples— kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.

“Kento…” you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before you’re retracting once more. “Kento…”

“What?” he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. “Why won’t my wife let me love on her?”

“Because your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,” you pout, lolling your head to the side. 

“Have I ever told you that patience is a virtue?” Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You can’t help but nudge him.

“Yeah, and too much can hurt you,” you retort. “So, I don’t think it’s best to keep me waiting much longer.”

He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, “You’re so wet for me.”

“Aren’t I always,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation. 

In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that he’s the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that it’s suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms. 

He’s so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. You’re insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass. 

Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husband’s erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, you’re about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanami’s strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you. 

“Don’t,” he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A ‘fuck’ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanami’s mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort. 

Your eyes follow him, where the moment it’s in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. “Lay down for me?”

All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanami’s helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.

With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess that’ll wait to be cleaned up. You can’t help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. “Y’sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

“For someone who wants her prize,” Nanami starts, “You’re sure working on losing it fast.”

“You wouldn’t dare stop.”

“I would.” He doesn’t however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You can’t control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And it’s so contagious as Nanami can’t help but join in with you. He’s painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people. 

The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. It’s a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck. 

The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something he’ll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when he’s truly satisfied, believing that he’s baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. They’re clean in a matter of seconds as Nanami’s patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.

“Gosh,” he groans. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, you’re pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. “So are you.”

You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that you’re not aware of all the time, whether it’s something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. He’s completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before he’s kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.

“C’mon, Kento.” Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows. 

“You’re so impatient, doll,” he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times he’s been sheathed inside of you, you’re as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip that’s addicting and never making him want to leave.

Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an ‘O.’ Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. “Kento…”

He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. “Yes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?”

You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. “Y-Yes,” you cry. “You always make me feel so good. I—I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He asks, to which you nod again. “I love you, too. So much more, in fact.”

You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock.  Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanami’s length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal what’s to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever he’s inside you. 

His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock. 

“Kento,” you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you can’t find any other word besides it. 

“I got you, my love,” Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanami’s head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanami’s skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanami’s blonde hair. 

From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanami’s misery, you might’ve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. “Something on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?”

“If I’m being honest,” you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanami’s at your soon confession. “I did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.”

You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your “cheating,” but if anything, Nanami wasn’t either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. “I expected much.”

“You did?” your eyes widen. “How?”

“Babe, you couldn’t icing a cake two weeks ago,” Nanami deadpans. “You’re expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?” 

“Hey!” you playfully slap at his chest. “I could’ve just been lucky today!”

Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. It’s tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesn’t go under-appreciated by the mess. 

“Now, that I’m looking closer,” he smirks. “It doesn’t look as good as I had originally thought it did.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.”

( 🛢 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru

[snowballseal]

Insecurities - Rafayel

Summary: Here is the portion of Rafayel reacting to your insecurities. And you best know this man goes big to prove a point. Much fluff.

Here is the original with the other LADS boys

Word Count: 1831

Notes: Reader has insecurities about they way they look, so just keep in mind. It ends fluffy and happy though.

---

“Rafayel, do I look okay?”

The artist immediately drops whatever he was doing, twisting around to peer over the back of the couch as you step into the studio.

His iridescent eyes scan over your figure, his voice lilting with teasing affection, “I’m not sure I even want to go if this is what you’re wearing. I think everyone would think you’re the art and ignore my hard work.”

You wrinkle your nose. Partially because he’s being ridiculous. Partially because you don’t really believe him. The dress is gorgeous of course, he did a great job of helping you pick one out, but it doesn’t change the way you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

Before you met Rafayel, you never paid much attention to how you looked. Not in a bad way, you kept yourself neat and dressed up whenever you went out for special occasions, but it was never on your mind much. But now…You don’t know. It’s not Rafayel’s fault, the man has never been shy in complimenting you, but you can’t help but notice the type of women that like to approach him. All gorgeous enough to be models, with the confidence to match - seeing as they always have to gall to flirt with him even when you’re holding hands.

And you wish it didn’t get to you. It shouldn’t. Rafayel doesn’t even bat an eyelash at them, always focusing on you or making more obvious shows of affection to chase them away. Still, the more it happens, the more you find yourself caring about how you look, or not liking the way you look. 

And wearing a lovely dress only seems to highlight your self-perceived flaws.

“Do you really think it looks okay?” You ask again, fiddling with the satin self-consciously. 

Rafayel’s brow furrows a little. He tilts his head, looking almost like a confused puppy, “What is it? Do you not like the dress? Do you not want to go anymore? Please don’t make me go alone. These galleries are sooo boring without you, I hate them.”

“They’re your galleries,” you point out, shaking your head with a small smile, “How can you hate them so much? It’s your work, they deserve to be celebrated.”

“Why go stare at my own work when I can spend the night staring at you?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks. Usually you’d have a witty comeback to his flirting, but you can’t find anything tonight, not with how you’re feeling. So you just ruffle his hair fondly, avoiding the intense affection in his gaze.

“Come on, Thomas will be mad if we don’t show up. We need to go.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow. Before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist, keeping you anchored to where you are. Your heart jumps to your throat at the serious expression he suddenly gives you.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting strange.” 

Being an artist, Rafayel knows you, your face, your body, better than anyone. He’s always looking at you, holding on to every new detail he finds. Like the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. How the tip of your nose turns rosy when you’re even a little cold. Or how your lips twitch before you lie. Like they are now.

“I’m fine, Raffie, just…tired,” you sigh, tugging against his hold, still trying to avoid him, “Now come on, we should go.”

“Hmmmmm…no.”

You squeak as Rafayel unexpectedly gives your wrist a sharp pull. The momentum sends you tumbling over the back of the couch, right into his lap, and before you can escape, he has you wrapped in his arms. Stuck.

“Rafayel-! Let go of me,” you growl, squirming around hopelessly. The man is surprisingly strong, and with your feet still tossed over the back of the couch, you can’t get enough leverage to escape.

“Nope, not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he hums, arms tightening around your waist.

You huff and give him a solid glare, “This isn’t funny, Rafayel.”

“And neither is hiding something that’s obviously bothering you,” he snips back softly, “You’re a horrible liar, miss bodyguard.”

“I just…” You cross your arms, face feeling warmer and warmer the longer he stares at you. Why does he have to be so stubborn at times like this? “I haven’t been feeling good about myself lately, okay? That’s it, now can we go?”

“Nope.” You resist the urge to groan.

“Thomas is going to throw a fit-”

“He can handle it tonight, I’ll give him a bonus. What’s more important is fixing this.” Rafayel props his chin on your shoulder, a contemplative frown pulling at his lips. “It’ll have to be something creative, which I’m great at, of course. But what?”

“Rafayel, this really isn’t necessary,” you grumble, “I don’t think it’s something you can fix.”

The artist shakes his head, pressing a faint kiss to your shoulder, “I think you underestimate me, cutie. But that’s okay, I think I know exactly what to do.”

Lifting you up, Rafayel sets you back on the couch gingerly and darts off after giving you instructions to not move. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you fix your dress, though it seems a bit pointless now. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be going to the gallery.

A part of you is secretly relieved at that. You love looking at Rafayel’s work, but since it’s his gallery, all the attention would be on him, and, consequently, you as well. It’s a bit suffocating. Still, you’re a little wary of whatever plan he has concocted. Rafayel is as unpredictable as he is talented.

Time seems to tick by slowly as you sit on the couch. You eye the clock, noting each minute as it passes by. Your nerves only continue to rise the longer you’re alone. What on earth is he doing?

On the tenth minute, Rafayel reappears, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He offers you a hand.

“The gallery is ready for you to attend, cutie.”

This time, your eyes narrow, though you still take his hand, allowing him to help you up. “I thought you said we weren’t going?”

“Oh, this is a different kind of gallery,” he hums, looking quite proud of himself, “I think you’ll enjoy this one a lot more. And I’ll be your personal tour guide.”

“How kind,” you muse, fighting your own smile. You might as well humor him, even if it doesn’t help. As long as Rafayel is happy, you can count the night as some kind of success.

Rafayel leads you to one of the spare rooms of the studios. You vaguely remember him telling you at some point that it’s a room he likes to keep his sketchbooks and unfinished projects in. You cast him a curious glance, but his eyes are set ahead as he touches the door, that smile still painted across his lips.

“These works are some of the most important that I’ve ever done, and you’ll be the first to see them. My heart rests in your hands tonight, so be careful, otherwise you might mortally wound me and I’ll never have the courage to paint again.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, about to make a sassy remark, but the words get lost when he presses the door open. Your eyes go wide at the sight before you.

The room is lit by candles, flickering with the flames of his evol. Their light dances across countless artworks spread across the room, hanging on every surface, each one depicting the same subject.

You.

Most of them are sketches, their strokes simple and spontaneous but laden with care, like he had wanted to capture a precious moment for himself. There’s one of you dozing off on the couch, another of you dancing in the kitchen. There’s even one of you holding a stuffy, from one of your many trips to the arcade.

The further you walk into the room, the more detailed the pieces become. 

A charcoal drawing of you in your uniform, gun drawn on something off page. The lines of your body are like water, fluid and graceful, the look in your eyes somehow burning with a fierce determination.

An oil painting of the night you spent at the market. Your image is looking at a sparkler, the light reflected in your eyes like stars, your cheeks painted a soft rosy color that seems to glow. It’s impossibly delicate, each stroke placed with such intention, it’s almost like you’re there again.

The final painting you come to make your face go warm again. It’s of you, curled up under a familiar set of sheets, mostly focused on your face. Your hair pools against the pillow, messy yet somehow charming in its unruliness. The morning sunlight dapples across your skin, highlighting the soft color of your lips and the gentle curve of your smile. But it’s your eyes that really make your breath catch. You can practically see the sleepy fog in them, like you had just woken, but also the undeniable warmth. The love.

It’s…beautiful. They’re all beautiful. And they’re all you.

“This is…” You swallow around the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling off-kilter. “I can’t believe you did all of these.”

Rafayel, who had been following behind you silently, hums softly and curls his arms around your waist. You lean back into his touch, letting it ground you and your swirling emotions.

“It’s been difficult even focusing on my work for the gallery. Everything else seems to pale in comparison when I have such a beautiful muse in front of me all the time,” he murmurs the words against your temple, voice quiet to match the atmosphere of the room. “I could devote lifetimes to painting you and never grow tired of it.”

You bite back a bashful smile, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little, “I didn’t realize I was so distracting.”

“Just ask Thomas. I think this is the most he’s ever had to remind me to finish my work,” Rafayel chuckles, giving your waist a squeeze. “But it was worth the missed deadlines. Afterall, isn’t it my responsibility as your employer and lover to make sure you understand how much I cherish you?”

Your heart flutters wildly as the brazen affection in his tone. It seems to melt away your doubts, replacing them with an overwhelming feeling of fondness for your artist. Only Rafayel would do something like this for you, how could you deny it?

Turning around in his hold, you lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, which you notice is an absolutely rosy shade of red. It makes you feel even more fond. You really really love this man.

“Thank you, my pretty fish. I feel much better now.”

That dazzling smile lights up his face again, and he leans down to scatter kisses all over your face, whispering between your bouts of giggles, “Anything for you, my queen.”

---

All the smooches. I love this man. I will die on the hill of using the nickname "fish" or "fishie" with him, I think it's soooo cute.

[fan-goddess]

can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3

A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!

Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)

Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.

So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.

Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.

Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.

“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.

“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”

She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”

You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.

“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.

“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.

Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.

“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”

“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.

It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.

By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.

“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”

“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“

“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”

“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.

“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.

“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.

“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.

“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.

“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.

Alicent Hightower:

Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.

While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.

Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.

Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.

“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.

Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.

“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”

“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”

“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”

“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”

“Perhaps…”

By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.

“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”

“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.

The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.

You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.

“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.

And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.

It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.

You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.

“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”

You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.

“Thank you…”

Daemon Targaryen:

It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.

The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.

Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.

The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.

“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.

“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.

“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.

His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.

It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.

“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.

“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”

For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.

You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.

“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”

“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.

“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”

“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”

Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.

Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.

Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.

Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.

“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.

The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.

“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”

“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.

“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”

This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.

“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.

“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.

“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”

“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.

“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”

“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”

“What about Aenor? First of his name…”

“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”

Aemond Targaryen:

Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.

“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.

The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.

Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.

Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.

Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.

“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.

“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.

“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.

“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.

“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…

“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.

The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.

It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.

Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.

Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.

“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.

“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.

It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.

“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.

Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.

The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.

“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.

“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”

The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.

He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.

“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.

“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“

“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”

Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.

“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”

“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”

“What about Elaenor?”

“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”

Jacaerys Velaryon:

It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.

When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.

“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.

“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.

At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.

Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.

“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.

“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.

“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”

“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”

“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”

“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.

The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.

It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.

“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.

“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.

“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.

Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.

“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.

He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.

“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”

You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.

That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.

He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.

The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.

Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.

Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.

"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.

"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"

"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.

"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"

"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.

When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.

"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."

“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”

[https-milo]

PLEASEEEEE!!! BAKUGO DATING INSTAGRAM!!! PLEASSEEEEEEE🙏🏻🙏🏻

I HEAR YOUUUUUUUUU!!! tysm for the request :DD

DATING KATSUKI BAKUGO INSTAGRAM!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating Katsuki Bakugo!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

ooc bakugo (i choose joy and whimsy)

main m. list / instagram m. list

fairy.y/n · 15w ⭐ close friends

21 likes Liked by dynamight, pinkie, uravity.ou, izudeku

fairy.y/n me balling my eyes out cause my boyfriend cheated on me again :( (he said he'd stop after the last time I caught him.)

pinkie alright! murder party at Y/n-chan's bfs!! fairy.y/n pinkie its okay :( no need to murder him

izudeku im so sorry, Y/n. i hope you're okay and please let me know if you need anything fairy.y/n izudeku thank you, izuku :)

dynamight yeah you aint gonna hold me back from beating his ass this time. fairy.y/n dynamight katsss no. its okay, seriously dynamight fairy.y/n no idiot its not okay cuz he's cheated on your stupid ass 4 fucking times and you keep going back to him. every time you tell me not to beat the shit outta him but that bitch deserves it. fairy.y/n dynamight I know, I know but its so hard to leave him :( I don't get why he doesn't love me dynamight fairy.y/n you're such a dumbass. you need so much better than that sorry excuse of a boy. fairy.y/n dynamight idk if there is anyone better :(

fairy.y/n · 13w ⭐ close friends

19 likes Liked by dynamight, pinkie, uravity.ou, izudeku

fairy.y/n bf broke up with me, but luckily kats was able to distract me from feeling too bad <3 who needs cheaters anyways?!?!

dynamight making me look soft and for what... I'll kill you bastard fairy.y/n dynamight hmm somehow I doubt that. dynamight fairy.y/n lets go rn. fairy.y/n dynamight its past your bedtime :// fairy.y/n fairy.y/n WAIT IS THAT YOU STOMPING DOWN THE HALL????? fairy.y/n fairy.y/n KATS I WAS KIDDING. PLEASE!!!

pinkie bakugo having a heart was not on my bingo list urvaity.ou pinkie i think y/n-chan is an exception to his "GRRRR I HATE EVERYONE DIE BASTARDS!" you know? pinkie uravity.ou ugh ikkk you should see them in the gc 🤢🤢🤢 fairy.y/n pinkie we're literally normal in the gc :[ pinkie fairy.y/n hmmmmm I don't think so!! i sense a lot of flirting dynamight pinkie I'll fucking kill you fairy.y/n dynamight you're literally making me popcorn rn... you're not killing anyone dynamight fairy.y/n I hope you choke on a kernel.

dynamight · 12w

1.6k likes Liked by fairy.y/n, redriot, pinkie, serophane, izudeku

dynamight dumbass made me post this or wtv.

Tagged: fairy.y/n

fairy.y/n guys i literally WIPED the floor with him! redriot fairy.y/n didn't he punch you through a wall... fairy.y/n redriot next question, please!! :DD dynamight redriot her quirk stopped her from going through it. redriot dynamight uh yeah but the wall still cracked fairy.y/n redriot NEXT. QUESTION.

pinkie "im going to murder you!!" x "nuh uh." fairy.y/n pinkie I think these are direct quotes, actually

yourexboyfriend bro why the hell are you hanging out with her 😭😭 did the little loser need a guard dog after I broke her heart? 🥺 dynamight yourexboyfriend meet me outside rn. you're abouta need a guard dog after running your mouth like that 🫵🤣 fairy.y/n dynamight kats srsly don't worry ab it. I don't want you getting in trouble defending me dynamight fairy.y/n I wanna tho. yourexboyfriend omw to your dorm building rn, don't bother running.

fairy.y/n · 12w ⭐ close friends

20 likes Liked by dynamight, redriot, pinkie, denkami, jiroka

fairy.y/n his dumbass got bruised knuckles for beating up trash :(

pinkie whooo? 👀 uravity.ou pinkie i think you know...

dynamight the other guy looks way worse. fucking pos couldn't even land a hit on me. fairy.y/n dynamight well he's in the management course... I don't think they go over fighting tactics over there dynamight fairy.y/n whatever. it doesn't matter. either way, I wasn't gonna let him fw my girl like that. fairy.y/n dynamight YOUR GIRL??? pinkie dynamight YOUR GIRL????????? uravity.ou dynamight YOUR GIRL???? izudeku dynamight YOUR GIRL? jiroka dynamight YOUR GIRL??? dynamight OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU DAMN EXTRAS. I GET IT. STFU. fairy.y/n dynamight come to my dorm 😁😁 dynamight fairy.y/n ...omw.

redriot so manly...

dynamight · 10w

1.9k likes Liked by fairy.y/n, pinkie, redriot, serophane, shotodo

dynamight took her dumbass out on a date and she repays me by kicking my back.

fairy.y/n I DO NOT WANNA HEAR ITTTTT!! YOU LITERALLY TURNED AROUND AND PUSHED ME AFTERWARD 🖕🖕🖕 dynamight y/n.fairy yapyapyap fairy.y/n dynamight YOU INITIATED A FIGHT WITH ME AND A PRO HAD TO SEPARATE US. dynamight fairy.y/n I wasn't gonna actually hurt you fairy.y/n dynamight I know baby!! your love language is play fighting >:D there's defo a difference when you "fight" me and when you fight someone else dynamight fairy.y/n stfu. come cook some food with me. fairy.y/n dynamight comingggg (*cough* quality time *cough*)

pinkie they match each other's violent freak <3 fairy.y/n pinkie sometimes I'm overcome with so much joy I cant help but to punch him =^-^= dynnamight pinkie fuck off raccoon eyes.

serophane ayyyyy gg bakugo denkami serophane bakugo with the angry rizz 🙏🙏 dynamight denkami ill kill you both.

uravity.ou you better treat the loml right 😤😤 fairy.y/n uravity.ou dw ocha no man shall ever walk over me again 😤😤 (but I'm not at all worried with Kats) uravity.ou fairy.y/n AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

[mandarinmoons]

hmmmmm maybe reader being drunk flirty at a bar or something in front of the team and spencer is trying SO hard to save face but its not happening because reader is obsessed with him?

and ofc the team is teasing the hell outta him and will never let it go

https://www.tumblr.com/mandarinmoons/746776666636976128/ok-i-need-this-line-in-a-fic

ugh sorry that if that sucks

No no that certainly does not suck hehe

Not many knew this, but those who did (also known as Penelope Garcia) knew that you had quite the little crush on your coworker Spencer Reid. During breaks you’d go to Penelope’s cave and half of the time you’d gush about how cute Spencer looked in the outfit he chose for the day or how your hands brushed as you reached for the same mug in the kitchen as you both craved some coffee. In other words, whenever he was around, you were toast.

After finishing an extremely exhausting case the team decided to head out to a bar and you were determined not to hold back with drinks. A few glasses of wine and a round of shots later you felt like you were floating. Spencer kept his eyes on you with great concern and as you wobbled your way to the bar to get another mojito, he was on your tail and wrapped an arm around you to help steady you.

“Easy now,” you leaned to the side and Spencer pulled you close to him, but because of your shaky legs you ended up face planting into his chest.

“Wow,” you giggled and patted Spencer’s chest as you looked up at him. 

Spencer’s cheeks were getting noticeably red and it was visible for the rest or the team back at the booth. You could hear them chuckling and teasing Spencer to “go get ‘em!”.

“Oh hey, how’d these end up here?” you took Spencer’s hands and placed them around your waist, even though you were the one initiating the flirty banter you still felt butterflies swarm your stomach.

“H-Hey, let’s go sit down, okay?” your actions were clearly making the man nervous and it only made you want to tease him more. Sober you might never be able to get the right words out, but drunk you decided to take matters differently.

“Nooo, I wanna be at the bar with you,” pouting your lips and fluttering your lashes made Spencer’s heart skip a beat, how could he say no to you? You couldn’t tell, but he did have a bit of a crush on you as well and seeing you act this way with him did fill him with joy.

“Okay okay, only for a little yeah?”

You nodded and Spencer helped you sit down at a stool and kept his arm around you so you wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. You got the drink you wanted and Spencer made sure you took small sips so you wouldn’t rush to get another one. As much as he had a hard time saying no to you he didn’t want to end up taking care of a hung over you in the morning, not that he didn’t want to, but because of his fear of germs he knew he wouldn’t be able to clean up your puke.

Slowly you rested your head on the counter and Spencer reached over and brushed the hair from your face. You stirred a bit and leaned into Spencer’s hand as his fingers rested on your cheek. 

Spencer loved the affection you’d shown him tonight and he wished that it would’ve happened during different circumstances. He knew that alcohol made people act irrationally and the chances of you being so loving could be added up to that, however, alcohol also showed people’s true feelings and the chances of you liking back were the same and that’s all he needed to know.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

[rainroses45]

If I see one more plant!

𖧧description: You happen to be pregnant with a certain angel's baby, and with great power comes great responsibility... so here is how your powers and hormones give the Winchesters several heart attack...enjoy? Castiel x Pregnant Fem! Reader 𖧧a/n: I am obsessed with poison ivy's powers and so I was like hmmmmm "I should write this" and I did (Not Edited) 𖧧song Inspo: Kiwi - Harry Styles 𖧧warning: uummm none that I know of except maybe that pregnant reader gets emotional a lot BUT CAN YOU BLAME HER SHE IS TRYING HER BEST

The first time your powers went haywire was at a small-town department store when you were four months pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor the usual places the Winchesters frequented, but after a long hunt, they all decided a little downtime wouldn’t hurt especially since they found out you were pregnant.

The Winchesters had all sorts of equipment-guns, knives, books, *cough cough* trauma- but booster seats, cribs, and diapers, not so much. So with that in mind, they didn't argue when you dragged them out to different department stores.

Sam was poking around the electronics section ( his computer screen was stuck on busty asian beauties. com again), Dean was trying on a ridiculous-looking novelty hat, and you were wandering the aisles, following a trail of pink and blue onesies, cute little shoes, and soft blankets.

You hadn’t been feeling emotional at all that morning—really, you hadn’t. The pregnancy was going well, the baby was healthy, and you had Castiel by your side. What could go wrong?

Then, you spotted it: a tiny pair of shoes. They were so small and cute, pink with little flowers on them. Your heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes going wide. “They’re just… they’re so tiny! And adorable! Oh my god, what if… what if they… the baby wears them, and I'm having a little baby girl! Oh look they have them in blue too and—and… I just can’t handle this!”

Dean, who had been half-heartedly inspecting a display of bizarre looking mannequins, turned at the sound of your voice. “What the hell is going on over there?”

Before anyone could answer, you started tearing up. Big, dramatic, teary-eyed sobs as your emotions got the best of you. “It’s so cute! This is so cute! OMG why is everything here so cute?!”

Castiel, who had been silently standing by, watching the situation unfold, immediately stepped forward, his face softening in concern. “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s okay. Just… breathe. I understand the tiny items are cute.”

But it was too late for your boyfriend's soft words to soothe you. Your powers had already started to react to the uncontrollable emotions. Tiny flowers began sprouting from the ground beneath your feet. They were delicate little blooms—daisies, roses, violets—pushing through the cracked, textile floor. The flowers spread out around you, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and color overshadowing the cute clothing.

Dean, who had been watching you with a mix of confusion and curiosity, with a hint of amusement, quickly turned to Sam. “Okay, this I did not sign up for.”

Sam was trying to hold back his laughter, but when a single daisy bloomed in the middle of his shoe, he couldn’t help it. “Dude, you’re telling me you didn’t think this would happen? She’s practically the real life poison ivy!”

Dean shot Sam a glare. “Not the point, Sammy. We need to figure out how to fix this before we turn this store into the weirdest garden party ever.”

Meanwhile, while the boys were observing the weird scenario happening some people also were starting to notice. A lady in the aisle who was eyeing the chupones (I don't know what this is called in English sorry) next to you was giving you a curious look, unsure whether she should be worried or mental.

“Uh, hey, ma’am,” Dean said, stepping into her line of sight with a big grin. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, a bit of… plant therapy going on.” He flashed a grin, trying to divert her attention.

The woman blinked at him, her eyes darting between Dean and the flowers. “Are you… sure? I mean how did the flowers appear out of no where? I mean isn't that a bit odd?”

Sam noticing his brother struggling with getting the lady away from the scene, stepped in, “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal. She’s just… you know, super into horticulture. All natural, totally organic stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Dean added with a wink, having no idea what the hell was horticulture was. “Just don’t touch the plants. Some of them bite- fuck." Dean cursed under his breath as he was too late catch his mistake.

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning if she’d accidentally stumbled into a strange dimension or if this was all just an elaborate joke. “I see…” She backed away slowly, nervously laughing while she looked around hoping to see a video camera or something.

Cas on the other hand was doing his best to calm you down. He crouched beside you, gently taking your hands in his, his gaze soft yet filled with concern.

“Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said in his steady, calming tone. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you need to control your breathing. Focus on me, okay?”

You wiped your tears, sniffling, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of the tiny shoes. “But Cas… What if I mess up? What if I’m not a good mom? What if… what if the baby doesn’t like flowers?What if the baby doesn't like the shoes I get them? What if they don't like me? What if I-”

Castiel’s eyes softened even more as he took a deep breath, leaning forward to gently press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already doing wonderfully. The baby will love whatever you give it—because it will have you. You’ll be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, your tears subsiding as his words sank in. Slowly, you wiped your tears which seemed to be the same effect of brushing the flowers away from your feet, watching as they melted back into the ground, leaving behind only the faintest trace of green.

Dean and Sam returned to your side, looking almost relieved the situation was under control.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that was fun… but if I ever see a store more than five feet away from a hunt again, I’m gonna have to rethink my life choices.”

Sam chuckled softly. “What, you don’t like shopping with us?”

“I don’t mind it,” Dean said with a grin, “but the next time I see any more flowers in this place, I’m throwing a fit.”

You managed a small laugh as you wiped your eyes, the overwhelming emotions still there but a little easier to manage now. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay now. But… seriously, I’m never going near baby shoes again.”

Castiel smiled at you, offering a hand to help you back up. “Perhaps we should just stick to something a bit more practical next time?”

You nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, maybe… like, I don’t know, diapers?”

Dean smirked. “I’m all for the diapers. Less flowers, more action.”

The second time it was a quiet morning, and the everyone had decided to take a much-needed break from hunting. After a long few weeks of tracking down monsters, a little downtime at a cozy diner seemed perfect. You, being six months pregnant, were very excited about food. And when you’d glanced at the menu and seen pancakes, you didn’t hold back. You ordered everything—pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and just about every side dish they had to offer. You were starving. Nothing was going to get in your way between you and your maple syrup.

You slid into the booth with Dean and Sam, Castiel sitting beside you on the opposite end of the brothers. He did look a little out of place in the cozy diner with his trench coat still on, but so did a pregnant lady wearing a Bluey onesie, and two other guys in cowboy outfits.

The brothers were already halfway through their coffee, talking about the next hunt, but your mind was purely focused on the delicious serving of food coming your way.

Dean glanced at you with an amused grin. “You really going to eat all that, or is that just for show?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “I’m pregnant, Dean. I feel like I just ordered an appetizer. Do not judge me.”

Sam laughed softly. “ Leave her alone Dean, she is carrying an angel's baby and a superpowered one at that. Let the girl eat whatever she wants."

Dean just shook his head. “Well, just don’t blame me when you can’t move after. I didn’t order the mountain of food.”

Just as you were about to playfully strangle Dean, the waitress brought over your huge order, but something was off. You had your eggs, you had your bacon, waffles, omelet, but something was missing. There was a stack of pancakes for Sam, a stack of pancakes for Dean, and a stack of pancakes for Cas— everyone got fluffy stack of pancakes except for you.

“Hey,” you said, frowning at the waitress. “Excuse me Miss, where are my pancakes?”

The waitress blinked, clearly flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll get them right out for you.” She hurried away not before giving you a smile.

You sighed, staring at your plate, which now had way too many waffles and not enough pancakes. You pouted slightly. “I really wanted those pancakes…”

Castiel, who had been silently observing, stood up with his usual determination. “I will go get them for you, my beloved Y/N.” He headed toward the counter before anyone could stop him, his eyes already focused on the task at hand.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas, relax. It’s not like it’s a big deal—”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women seated by the counter noticed Castiel, eyes widening as they took in his rugged, angelic demeanor. They exchanged a quick glance, their faces lighting up with interest.

One of them, bold and confident, immediately stood up and walked toward him. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, flashing a playful smile. “I couldn’t help but notice… you’re not from around here. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Castiel, oblivious to the subtleties of anytype of human interactions, blinked in confusion. “I am simply retrieving pancakes for my girlfriend.”

The woman laughed, clearly not getting the hint. “Oh, you have a girlfriend? That’s cute." She dragged her freshly done nails over his chest. "But I bet she’d let you have a little fun, right?”

You, sitting back at the booth, started to feel that familiar irritation rise up, and your fingers twitched. Maybe a little too much.

Before you could stop it, the ground beneath you began to tremble slightly, and tiny cacti started sprouting from the floor, little spinky plants pushing up through the checkered text tiles and spreading outward. A few even shot out from the booth’s cushions, their thorns digging into the fabric around you.

Dean and Sam exchanged a panicked glance, both of them groaning in unison. “Not again,” Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.

Dean just sighed, glancing over at the growing cactus problem. “I swear, Cas better wrap this up before we turn this place into the weirdest garden party.... again!”

You were too far gone to notice their worried glances. Every little flirtatious giggle from the women sent your emotions spiraling, and more and more cacti grew—thick, spinky, sharp, cacti. There were even a few sprouting from nearby tables and counters, causing customers to take wide-eyed steps back.

The women, realizing that Castiel wasn’t giving them the attention they wanted, glanced around nervously. They tried to get a little closer to him, but he was still looking at them with that same confused expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, “but I am in a committed relationship with my amazing, gorgeous girlfriend, and we are expecting a child together. I cannot- no I will not accept your advances because I find your lack of beauty and personality disgusting. So please let me return back to my girlfriend, or I will have to fry your face.”

The women blinked, their smiles faltering. “Oh… uh, I didn’t know you were expecting,” one of them said, her voice wavering. “Well, uh, congratulations, I guess… sorry to bother you.” They quickly backed away, clearly embarrassed, but your plant-related meltdown was far from over. A faint whispers of, "please don't kill us."

"Asshats." Cas muttered as he watched the two ladies walk away, patches of Cactus sticking out of their skin.

Dean and Sam rushed over to your side of the booth and tried calming you down. Sam immediately started pushing the closest cactus plant down into the ground. “Please, Y/N, just calm down! We’ll get your pancakes! We’ll get everything you want!”

Dean took the opposite approach, shoving a plate of his own pancakes toward you, trying to distract you. “Here! Just have mine! Pancakes! See? Everything’s fine!”

You looked at both of them, your eyes wide with irritation as another cactus popped up in the middle of the table. “I don’t want your pancakes, Dean! I want my own pancakes! I want my own boyfriend! I want my loyal boyfriend to bring me pancakes!”

More cacti began sprouting around the booth, some growing from the floor, while others were now tangled between the chairs. Sam was frantically trying to push them back down, his face a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. “Why is she always so persistent when it comes to the plants?! Why couldn’t she just shoot a man like the rest of us?!”

Dean held up his hands, trying to calm you down. “Okay, okay. No need to start a whole desert in here. Cas! Tell her we’re fine. Tell her you already turned down the STD whores!”

Castiel returned to the table, completely unaware of the level of destruction the plants had caused. He placed the pancakes in front of you, a serene smile on his face. “Here you go, beautiful. Your pancakes, I even got them with whip cream.” He placed a kiss on your head. "Would you like me to cut them up for you?"

You took a deep breath as you reached for your pancakes, but you couldn’t help but smile at him even as you felt like you were going to twist his guys inside and out. He’d turned the girls down. And so calmly, too. It was like it wasn’t even a second thought.

Dean and Sam were still working together to keep plants from growing into the booth’s walls. Sam was pushing one of the cacti down, while Dean was shoving another out the door, his eyes twitching with disbelief.

“Guys, I swear,” Dean muttered, “if I have to fight off one more cactus, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re lucky we’re not going to die from these plants,” Sam grumbled, attempting to swat at a rogue vine that had started climbing up a nearby window.

You laughed softly, the last of the cacti finally retracting as you calmed down. You were feeling better, but now the diner was definitely looking a lot more like a desert garden. “Sorry, guys. I just… I couldn’t help it.”

Castiel smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s alright, darling. I would never allow anyone to take my attention from you.”

You smiled, feeling a little sheepish. “Thanks, Cas. You really handled that well.”

Dean and Sam, clearly exhausted from the plant chaos, collapsed back into the booth with you, still eyeing the last few cacti with suspicion.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Dean said, eyeing the growing cactus garden with disbelief. “Next time, we’re sticking to delivery pizza, okay? No more pancakes, no more plants.”

The third time seemed to be no different. It was another quiet morning on the road. The Impala had made a pit stop at a gas station, and the Winchesters, along with Castiel, were inside grabbing snacks and supplies. You were trying to hold it together, but being six months pregnant made everything a little… well, more difficult. You’d been looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching your legs, but the moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the weight of your growing belly.

It had taken a toll on your body. With new stretch marks, and odd cramps and cravings, you didn’t expect to out grow your clothing so fast.

Inside the convenience store, you were eyeing some snacks when Sam, in his usual well-meaning but oblivious way, made the comment that would unintentionally set things off.

“Y/N,” Sam said, glancing up from the bag of chips he was holding, “I think you should get bigger pants or something. I mean, it might help you feel more comfortable, you know? I don’t want you to strain yourself or the baby.” He smiled, thinking the simple hardships of the beginning of motherhood would be appreciated by the soft comfort of jeggings.

You froze. The words hit you harder than Sam could’ve known. Of course, you were aware of your growing belly, but you weren’t expecting to be reminded of it so bluntly (it was no where close to being blunt). You gave him a tight smile, but inside, it stung.

Dean noticed the shift in your mood almost immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

But before Sam could even register the impact of his words, you felt the anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. The next thing anyone knew, thick vines began sprouting up around you, twisting and curling out from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Sam’s legs, his arms, and even his waist. He froze, eyes wide in shock as the plants continued to tighten around him.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Sam gasped, struggling against the vines. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dean stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “No, no, not again—come on, Y/N, you gotta calm down.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of weed repellent, spraying it in the air in an attempt to keep the plants at bay. “I knew this would come in handy.”

But no matter how much Dean sprayed, the vines didn’t seem to back off. Sam was now fully encased in a web of thick, green vines that pulled tighter with every second, making it hard for him to move.

“Y/N, please—I didn’t mean it that way!” Sam was practically pleading now, his voice muffled by the plant growth surrounding him.

Dean, frantic and trying to get to you, turned to Castiel. “Cas, help! She’s gone full jungle, and Sam’s about to become plant food!”

Cas, who had been silently observing the whole thing with wide eyes, turned to you with a soft, comforting expression. “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean shot Cas a look, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

“It’s not okay,” Dean snapped. “Cas, help me! We’re running out of weed repellent, and Sam is literally about to get swallowed by the vines!”

“Those are actually not weeds they are-“ “They could be dancing salsa beans for all I care help me!”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, before turning his attention back to you. He took a slow step toward you, his voice gentle. “Y/N, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. Sam didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You were still angry, but hearing Cas’ calm tone seemed to ease the tension a little. The vines wrapped around Sam loosened, just slightly, but it was enough for him to gasp for air. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it, Y/N. Please… I just thought you might be more comfortable, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at Sam, then to Castiel, who was smiling softly at you. The reassurance in his voice had a calming effect, but the vines—now with a mind of their own—had a different idea. They snapped back at Sam one last time, tightening around his chest, almost as if to say, this is what happens when you mess with my girl.

Dean, now frantically spraying more weed repellent, hissed, “Cas, please do something! We’re losing Sam to the vines!”

Castiel stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N, honey, just breathe. Everything’s fine. Sam didn’t know how his words affected you.”

Dean, now out of repellent, was genuinely losing his patience. “Cas, seriously, do something! He’s gonna get tangled in the damn plants forever if you don’t!”

You took a deep breath, the vines finally relaxing around Sam, though he was still stuck. You raised an eyebrow at Dean’s frantic expression, your anger dissipating into something more mischievous.

“Oh sorry,” you said, your tone finally softening. “I’m sorry Sam, I just- I don’t know what came over me it’s been hard controlling everything you know?” The vines retreated slowly, leaving Sam tangled up in a few stray leaves, looking slightly defeated.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. If I had to deal with you two and the plants much longer, I was about to set the whole diner on fire.”

Sam, now free of most of the vines, shot you a sheepish look. “No it’s my fault. Sorry, really. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I guess I should’ve worded that differently.”

You finally gave him a small smile, the tension breaking. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry for letting my powers get the best out of me. It’s hard to tell wether it’s the baby or me who’s in control.”

Dean threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “It’s not okay! You almost turned this place into Jurassic Park! We can’t keep dealing with this every time you get upset!”

Cas, with his trademark calm demeanor, reached over to gently rub your back. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You just need to know it’s okay to express your feelings.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the comfort.

Dean rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “I swear, if I have to fight one more damn plant, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” you said, laughing softly, “I think we’re done with the plants for now.”

Dean shot a glare at the nearest cactus sprout. “Yeah, well, let’s hope so.”

*Cue the meme*

Dean after not seeing a plant  incident

“wow i haven’t stubbed my toe in 5 months” I said with joyous

(you go into labor and cause a whole rainforest)

I was then shot 57 times in the chest

[theemporium]

hmmmmm and perhaps also wrapping presents with Nico? perhaps Nico & Honey (if you’re feeling it)? i am an enabler (of you or myself, who’s to say)

what can i say, i am easily enabled👹thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“Holy shit.”

Nico’s cheeks burned as he stared helplessly at the pile in front of him before turning to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Okay so maybe I went a little insane with the twins’ Christmas gifts this year.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “A little?” 

“A lot,” Nico conceded. 

You placed your hands on your hips, staring at the pile with a determined look on your face. “This is a whole toy store.” 

“They deserve it,” Nico argued weakly. 

“They do,” you agreed, flashing him a smile. “But you are probably gonna have a lot of regrets in an hour.”

Which, truthfully, Nico thought you were exaggerating about because how bad could wrapping presents really be?

The answer was bad. 

Really fucking bad. 

Like, he is pretty sure he is going to have to spend longer with the massage therapists tomorrow after practice because Nico has learnt the hard way that wrapping presents does not do you any favours for your back.

“Now I know where the twins get their theatrics from,” you teased as you watched the way Nico starfished across the floor, surrounded by unravelling rolls of wrapping paper and tape. 

“Bet Santa doesn’t have to do this,” Nico grumbled, turning his head to look at you with those classic Hischier puppy dog eyes. 

“He doesn’t,” you nodded, pressing your lips together to hide your grin. “He has elves. Congrats, Captain, you’re an elf now.”

Nico frowned. 

You shook your head, kicking your leg out to nudge his ribs. “C’mon, we are almost half way done.”

“No, we aren’t.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d appreciate the lie.”

Nico huffed out a laugh, letting out a groan as he pushed himself to sit up again. “I really didn’t appreciate how much my parents did for Christmas when I was younger.”

Your smile softened a little as you watched Nico stare helplessly at the toy he had been trying to wrap before. “You’re doing a great job, Nico.”

“It looks like an elf wrapped these blindfolded after too many glasses of eggnog,” Nico muttered, his brows furrowing together when he saw the leg of a stuffed toy sticking out the wrapped present. 

“I mean it,” you said again, a little more serious and sincere as his eyes snapped up to look at you. 

Nico swallowed, trying to push down the emotions that were threatening to bubble up since the month of December started. Ever since the twins were born, he always had family out here in Jersey with him for the holidays. This was the first time it was just him—and you, which he thanked every single day because he couldn’t imagine doing any of this without you—and saying he was stressed was an understatement.

It was probably one of the first years where the twins were actually aware of the festivities happening around them. He didn’t want to ruin those memories. 

“I just want to make it magical for them,” he confessed, reminding himself to keep his voice low despite the fact the twins were fast asleep in their bedroom, that they had been for the last few hours. 

“You are,” you smiled, leaning over to gently squeeze his knee. “You are giving them the most perfect Christmas.”

“Wouldn’t be able to do it without you,” he murmured, soft and sweet and sincere. 

You grinned. “We make a good team, Hischier.” 

His heart flipped at your words. “Yeah, we do.”

.

[yoomiwrites]

We won⁵

Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. Between friendship and love, what will you—what will Ekko—pick?

Note: Okay, okay, it's time to talk about feelings, hmmmmm?? One more chapter to go! God, I enjoyed this mini-series so much.

The familiar creak of the Firelight base’s door caught Ekko’s attention. He looked up from his workbench to see you step inside, a warm smile on your face. His heart skipped a beat, but he pushed the feeling aside, trying to act normal.

“Hey, Ekko,” you greeted, walking toward him. “What’s up? You’ve been acting kinda… weird lately.”

He hesitated, his fingers fumbling with a tool before he set it down. “Weird? Nah, I’m just—uh—busy.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh… how was your date?”

You blinked, confused. “What date?”

“The guy you were with,” he pressed, avoiding your gaze. “What’s his name? Your boyfriend?”

There was a moment of silence before realization dawned on you. A laugh bubbled out, light and genuine. “Wait—Ekko, you think he’s my boyfriend?”

He froze, his heart racing as his stomach twisted. “He’s not?”

“No!” you said, still laughing. “That’s Kieran. We’ve been meeting up to plan a surprise party for Vi. He’s great, but not in that way.”

Ekko felt a wave of relief so strong it nearly knocked him over. “Oh,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “I, uh… I thought—never mind.”

You tilted your head, a curious smile playing on your lips. “Wait a second. Were you...jealous?”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping. “I… I just didn’t want to see you get hurt,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, Ekko.”

But as you spoke, he took a breath, gathering the courage that had been building since he saw you with that guy. This was his chance.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I’ve been an idiot.”

You raised an eyebrow, the humor fading from your expression as you caught the seriousness in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’ve spent so much time focused on everything else—on the past, on the mission—that I didn’t realize how much you mean to me.” He met your gaze, the honesty in his eyes making your breath catch. “You’ve always been there for me, and I don’t want to take that for granted. Not anymore.”

Your heart raced as his words sank in. “Ekko…”

“I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “But I know I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend. Not as… anything.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with unspoken feelings. Finally, a soft smile spread across your face.

“Ekko,” you said gently, stepping closer. “You’ll never lose me.”

His relief was palpable, and though the future was uncertain, he knew one thing for sure: this time, he wouldn’t let you drift away.

[dia-souls]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Imajin Tokuten Drama CD “Kawaii Plushie, Fanboys' Confusion!!!”

Original title: かわいいぬいぐるみ、ファンボーイの混乱

Source: Fanmade Tokuten Drama CD

Story by: Admin Afra

Seiyuu: Suegara rie, Midorikawa Hikaru, Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Takashi Kondou, Tomoaki Maeno, Hirakawa Daisuke, Kaji Yuki,

Admin's note: Hey guys Finally, after a long time, a new drama CD by me Admin Afra. Who misses me??? Lol... Although I can't write comedy CDs and scenarios as well as Admin Irsa. But recently, my headcanon for plushie Yui has been very much noticed. That's why I decided to try this CD for this headcanon. If you like it, I will write Mukami and Tsukinami versions soon. This Sakamaki version is presented to you. I hope you like it. Don't forget to review and comment.

_This scene begins in the living room of the Sakamaki mansion. The triplets are watching Kou on a TV show.

Ayato: Why is that stupid idol in all the shows? I'm getting bored.

_Ayato changes the channel.

*Tap Tap*

Kanato: Ayato... can you please choose a channel and let us all watch it?

Ayato: Shut up!!!! Do not order Ore-sama. Ore-sama will watch whatever he likes. I don't want to see the face of that stupid idol on all channels.

_Ayato changes the channel again.

*Tap Tap*

Laito: You are right, Ayato-kun. I am much prettier. If I were an idol, I would have more fans than him. They probably showed me on more channels.

Ayato: If I saw you on TV, then I would blow up the TV.

Kanato: Me too...

Laito: Heeh... don't be so cruel. I'm sure more girls would be my fans.

_Ayato turns off the TV.

Ayato: I don't understand why there are so many channels and TV shows for girls. Why don't they make a TV show for boys? For example, the takoyaki eating contest.

Kanato: Ayato, no boy wants to watch such a show. Only you like it.

Laito: Hmmmmm. I don't like to see some boys with big mouths eating takoyaki. Even thinking about it makes me sick. I prefer to see cute and beautiful girls.

Kanato: There are idol girls too, Laito.

Laito: I know, but none of them can make my heart beat fast like Bitch-chan.

_Ayato swears under his breath.

Ayato: Chhh... Stupid pervert...

_Laito takes the TV remote from Ayato's side and turns the TV back on.

*Tap Tap*

_Laito changes several channels to a plushie advertisement.

Laito: Is that plushie... bitch-chan's plushie???

_Both Ayato and Kanato stare at the TV after hearing this. The TV is promoting the popular school club girl named Komori Yui.

Ayato: What the hell. Chichinashi???? Since when has Chichinashi been famous?

Laito: School club??? Ahhh, now I remember. A few months ago, bitch-chan said she wanted to join a school club. Hmmm, apparently, she is very popular among the boys in the club.

Kanato: IT'S UNFORGIVABLE. How dare that girl participate in the club without my permission? *SOB*.... I.... won't forgive her... *SOB*...

Ayato: That idiot... how dare she go out with other boys without Ore-sama's permission? When I see her, I will punish her.

Laito: Hmmmmm... I'm very sad to see that my dear bitch-chan has become popular with all these boys. She just needs to pay attention to me.

Shu: Pwaahhhhhhh.... can you shut up. Didn't you say just a few seconds ago that you want a TV show for boys? So why are you complaining now?

_Ayato, Kanato, and Laito flinched at Shu's voice.

Ayato: Waaahhhhh... Shu what the hell. What the hell are you doing here? When did you come here?

_Shu was lying on the couch and yawned.

*Rustle Rustle*

Shu: I was here from the beginning. You three idiots did not notice my presence.

Ayato: Shut up. You are always like this. Wherever you go, you sleep without talking to anyone. Obviously, no one will notice your presence.

Shu: Shut up... it's too loud. My ear hurt.

Ayato: Bastard...

_Shu opened one of his eyes and looked at the TV advertisement that was playing.

Shu: Hmmm... interesting... maybe I'll buy one for myself.

Ayato: Hahaha... don't tell me you like this ugly doll.

Shu: What's the problem with it? I can use it as a pillow. This way, when she is not with me, I can have her by my side.

Ayato: ...

Laito: ....

Kanato: ... I can't believe that this lazy man came up with such a good idea.

Laito: Nfu... that's a good idea. I would really like to have another version of Yui-chan too. In this way, I can do whatever I want with it.

Kanato: Fufu... Yes, Teddy will also be happy to have a new friend. Ne teddy I can dress up it like dolls to make it the most beautiful doll in the world.

Ayato: Tch... you two are very childish.

Laito: Come on Ayato. Wouldn't you like to have a small version of Bitch-Chan? Whenever Yui-chan is not with you, she can make takoyaki for you.

Ayato: Huh??? Can it really do that?

Shu: You are so stupid.

Ayato: Shut up. I have to try it myself, otherwise I don't believe it.

Laito: Nfu~ So let's go to that store and buy this cute plushie.

*TIMESKIP*

_Ayato, Laito and Kanato are walking in the store.

Ayato: Shit... why is it so crowded here?

Kanato: I can't stand people's noise. It's so noisy.

Laito: You two are very impatient. Nfu~ Be patient and then we'll go home with that cute plushie.

???: Oh my... KarlHeinz's sons are in the fanboy store. Hahaha... what a funny subject.

*click click*

_The triplets look behind them when they hear a familiar voice.

Ayato: Haaaaa..... Kino!!!! what are you doing here?

Kino: Isn't it obvious? I came looking for my dear princess. She is not with you?

Ayato: Who said she's yours? She is only my prey. Chichinashi is not with us.

Kino: Huh? what a pity I wanted to go like a lovely couple and buy that cute plushie.

Kanato: Did you come here for the plushie?

Kino: Of course. She is my lovely princess and I am her prince.

Ayato: Don't talk nonsense.

Kino: I myself encouraged her to participate in this club. They were looking for cute and beautiful girls to support animals. My dear princess was so cute and tried for animals that she quickly became popular among the boys. I'm thinking that my princess should have become a famous idol instead that Mukami.

Laito: Although I don't like you, I agree with you. But I don't want to share my beloved Bitch-chan with other boys.

Kino: In any case, this promotion is for promoting this club and because of Yui's new popularity. In addition to boys, she has become very popular among girls.

_A person with a black cape, hat, mask and glasses that completely covers his face enters the store.

Ayato: Hah... Thief...

Laito: Nfu~ He isn't a thief. He is only a shy fanboy who doesn’t like to be known at all.

Kino: Scary. Some fans are very scary.

_The suspicious man buys a plushie and quickly leaves the store.

Kanato: Heyyyyyyyy. I want to leave this store faster.

Kino: I also don't like to see other boys buy my dear princess plushie.

_Ayato goes in front of Kino and grabs his collar tightly in his fist.

*Rustle Rustle*

Ayato: Listen, bastard. I will not let you buy that plushie at all. Chichinashi is only my prey.

Kino: Fufu Ayato-kun, if you think like that... you should stop all those boys who are standing in front of the cash register buying plushies.

_Kino points to the counter and Ayato turns his head to look there. A group of boys lined up in front of the cash register to buy plushies.

Ayato: Chhh... you bastards...

_Ayato quickly releases Kino's collar and goes to stand in front of the cash register in front of all the boys.

Ayato: Everyone listen.

_Ayato takes the speaker from the vendor and speaks through it.

Ayato: Ore-sama is speaking. Get out of the store, you bastards. This girl is my prey and no one but me has the right to buy this plushie.

_All the boys and vendors stare at Ayato.

Ayato: Did you hear what I said? Ore-sama will give you orders. Hurry up and get out of the store

Kanato: Is he serious?

Laito: Oh, oh. I think we are going to be in trouble.

Kino: Pffff.... Hahahahaha.... Your brother is so stupid.

Kanato: Laito. Let's buy the plushie and go before it causes us trouble.

_Laito and Kanato go to the group of boys so that the seller won't notice that they are with Ayato.

Ayato: Oi, Kanato, Laito, why did you go to them? Let's help me get rid of these bastards.

Kino: Hmmmm. Things are getting interesting.

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: Chhh... Ahhhhh... How is the security of that store so strong? The place where he kicked me still hurts.

Kanato: You are so stupid, Ayato.

Ayato: Shut up. It's your fault that you didn't help me, otherwise we would have kicked out all those bastards.

Laito: Shame on you, Ayato-kun... I don't like being beaten by security at all. My beautiful face becomes scarred and I become ugly.

Ayato: You are so pathetic Laito...

_Kino walks behind them while laughing under his breath.

Ayato: You bastard... why are you laughing at us? You got what you wanted. Why are you following us?

Kino: Oh... Ayato-kun don't be so mean. I would like to see my dear princess.

Ayato: Shut up. I won't let you see her.

Laito: At least we could all buy plushies.

Kino: Too bad. I wanted to see my dear princess. But I think it doesn't matter. I will call her when I get home. I can't wait to take a picture of myself and this plushie and send it to her. Her reaction must be very cute... Fufu... Goodbye. I hope to see you very soon.

_Kino moves away from the triplets while waving his hand.

Ayato: Haha... in hell...

*TIMESKIP*

_Ayato, Kanato and Laito enter the mansion.

Ayato: Chhch... My body hurts.

Shu: Pwaahh... So you are finally back.

_Shu is lying on the couch while yawning and Yui's plushie is on the pillow next to his head.

Laito: ....

Kanato: ...

Ayato: ...... How???? Oi lazy man, how did you get that plushie without coming to the store?

Shu: Huh? It's... so easy. I ordered online.

Ayato: ....

Kanato: Haaaaaaa???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE COULD ORDER IT INSTEAD OF GOING TO THAT ANNOYING STORE, SHU WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US? I WON'T FORGIVE YOU. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU...

Shu: I was surprised why the three of you took so much trouble to go to that store. Well, this is not my problem. Now please be quiet. I want to sleep You are very noisy.

Ayato: You bastard...

Laito: Nfu~ I can't wait anymore. I want to do many things with this plushie. Ahhh, even thinking about it makes me hot.

Kanato: I would like to try different clothes on her. My new and beautiful doll is going to be very beautiful.

Ayato: Both of you shut up. This is going to be very interesting. Ahemm... Ahemm... Chichinashi, go make me some takoyaki.

_Laito and Kanato stare at Ayato and Shu smirks.

Kanato: ...

Laito: ....

Shu: Pffffff... you are so stupid.

Ayato: What?

Laito: Did you really expect a plushie to be able to move and make takoyaki for you?

Ayato: Huh? It can't? So why did we try so hard to buy it?

Shu: I am satisfied. It smells like that woman. It is a good pillow. At least when Yui is not here, this plushie will help me.

Kanato: You don't understand how precious dolls are.

Laito: I can also try interesting fantasies on it.

_Yui rushes into the room.

Yui: Ayato-kun, Reiji-san is very angry with you. He said that you in the store___

_The triplets stare at Yui.

Yui: What the..... !!!!!

Ayato: Oi Chichinashi. This ridiculous doll can't make takoyaki for me. Hurry up, make me takoyaki.

Yui: ...

_Meanwhile in Subaru's room.

Subaru: Hah... hah... I did it. I really i did it.

_Subaru enters his room while wearing a black coat, glasses and a mask and quickly goes to his coffin and puts Yui plushie in it and looks at it.

Subaru: I did it...

_Subaru blushes while staring at Yui plushie.

Subaru: Damn it... this is so cute...

_Subaru hugs Plushie and sleeps inside the coffin.

Subaru: Yui, please always stay with me...

_Meanwhile in Reiji's room. Reiji is sitting on a chair and brushing the plushie hair that was pre-ordered a few days ago.

Reiji: Good grief... these things are not for me.

_Reiji covered his face with his hand to hide his embarrassment.

Reiji: No one should know about this. NO ONE.

[kradogsrats]

Now we know What Viren Did(tm), and...

My personal side-eye aside, that denouement is actually an incredibly elegant application of the story's themes, within the scope of restrictions imposed by this particular medium (i.e. a cartoon targeted for pre-teens and younger). Like, I personally assumed for a long time that we would simply never find out the details, because it would be either too grim and/or violent for the story's intended rating or... kind of a let-down. On the surface, what we got seems like the second.

Most of us have looked at Claudia killing the baby deer to heal Soren's paralysis and went "well, it was obviously that, but y'know... worse, somehow," which is a completely reasonable assumption to make. It was definitely what was narratively implied, which makes the supposedly-damning ingredient being "your mother's tears" instead of like... idk, "your mother was pregnant again and I used the life of that unborn child to save you" or something kind of "... oh. Okay, then."

To be fair, that might also be why they went so hard in the IMO inadvisable male-dominated writer room direction of "so I held her down and took what I wanted" to convey the requisite "he's doing A Bad," which is what all my side-eye is toward. But here's the thing:

On some level, dark magic is about violation—of nature, of others, and of the self. Even violation by Aaravos, ultimately.

But it's also not just that.

Dark magic also sits at the center of one of the primary themes of the whole story, which is the evil of denying others' personhood. We see it again and again from the angle of the heroic cast: "You keep calling it a monster," "You knew he was a person, just like you," "She's not 'the elf.' She's Rayla." The evil they do not allow to take root is seeing people as things, the place where all other evils begin. (GNU Terry Pratchett, IYKYK.)

So Viren's damning crime, the crime that is dark magic, is this:

In that moment, he looks at his wife, and sees only a source of what he needs. One that he can take from as he wills. That's why Lissa leaves—Viren has pulled the circle he draws around "people" versus "abstractions, things to be used" in so tightly that she has found herself suddenly on the outside of it. That's not something you come back from, in a relationship.

As for it all being over something as innocent as Lissa's tears, as opposed to something like her blood, her unborn child, her heart, her last breath—that's also, I think, part of the point. It's a renewable resource, harvested without doing permanent physical harm, but it's still a violation of her. This is the ultimate refutation of the "but what if ethically-sourced phoenix feathers" argument as being, for the final time, bullshit.

When Viren bursts in looking like he walked straight out of hell and demands use of her tears, could Lissa have given them freely? Sure... but she didn't. Could he have talked her around, if he invested the time and respect for her that would require? Probably, but again, he didn't! He took what he'd decided was necessary, did what he decided he had to do, because he could.

And like, he knew, even then. Because while dark magic twists your perceptions and reasoning, dragging you deeper each time—it can't twist you so much that you no longer have a choice. It will do everything it can to make you rationalize making that choice, over and over, but it can't erase that it is a choice.

Like, I'm honestly kind of emotional about it because while the surface level watching experience is kind of hmmmmm, it delivers so well on a thematic and meta level that I'm just like idk. Fuck. It's good.

[m0llygunn]

CREATURE FROM THE GRAVE

Creepy guy on the side of the road? Perfectly acceptable to pick up and bring home, especially when he’s the living dead.

Summary: The first night at your house— the undead has a name! wc: 900 ─── † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † ───

“Frankie boy, my love, my new pal, please stop gargling or growling or whatever that dreadful noise is.”

He gurgles another low, stomach deep noise, and you use your elbows to prop yourself up on the mattress, looking over the edge to see him lying on the floor. His eyes meet yours and with his cracked, decrepit lips pulled into a frown, you make a mental note to buy him some chapstick tomorrow. His frown deepens, brows pinching together as he shakes his head, upset over something. You fall back onto your pillow with a sigh. 

“What is it now?”

He groans in response, dragging out his deep, annoyed tone. You hear shuffling as his voice grows taller. 

Rolling your eyes, you meet his gaze as he sits up on his makeshift bed, barely visible through the darkness of your room.

“Frankie, I can’t understand you. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about enunciation?” 

He grunts. You sit up again and as soon as he has your focus, in a slow, creaky movement, he raises his arm to point at his chest. 

“You?”

He nods. His shaky finger points towards his chest again, pairing the movement with a negating shake of his head. 

“You not…?” you guess.

He nods enthusiastically— well, as enthusiastically as the undead can get. He points to his chest again and you have absolutely no clue what he’s trying to say. Zero, zilch, nada clue. It’s past midnight and he might not need sleep but you do.

“You not… tired?” you guess again. He groans, shaking his head, disagreeing. He pauses for a brief moment, shrugging— maybe— but then he continues shaking his head more convincingly than before. He’s not tired but that’s not what he’s trying to say. 

With a sigh, you deflate. It’s already felt like the longest night of your life but now this… “Frankie—”

He grunts harshly, interrupting you. His jagged movements point his finger into his chest a final time, followed by a final shake of his head. 

“You’re not Frankie?”

He nods, letting out an agreeable grunt. 

“Well, I know that, silly. We’ve already gone over this— I don’t know your name and until you can better enunciate your grunts, you’re going by Frankenstein.”

He stares at you blankly and you roll your eyes, shifting on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You know Frankenstein? Like the book? Mary Shelley? Judging by the pins on your jacket, you should have been alive way after the book was written, so either you’re being difficult or you just had really, really terrible taste in books, Frankie.”

He groans dreadfully again, dragging out his explicit disagreement for his new name. 

“Well, what do you want me to do? Guess names at random until I get it right? That would take forever, and it’s already past midnight because we had to spend three hours scrubbing dirt off of every inch of you. And bugs, Frankie, so many bugs!”

He rolls his eyes and you gasp— to be treated like this in your own home! 

“Frank—”

“Euggh!” he cuts you off.

“Euggh is not a very nice name but if that’s what you want to go by…,” you smile, watching him scowl his hardest yet. “Sweet, Euggh, I am so very tired and I have to wake up tomorrow morning to scrub the house clean from your mud. I am going to sleep. Goodnight. Again.”

You toss your comforter back over yourself and sink into your pillow. Not even a full second goes by before you hear the creaky shuffle of Euggh getting up.

“If I knew the undead operated on a different time zone I would have left you where I found you,” you say, shifting to get comfort. 

He grunts in response, short and abrasive, but you don’t take it to heart. You hear more shuffling, the drag of his bad foot, and the squeal of your desk drawer being pulled open. There’s about 12 seconds of silence before every noise you just heard happens in reverse.

“Hmmmmm,” he groans beside your bed, dragging out the low rasp of his voice. When you pretend to sleep he gets louder, even going as far as knocking the edge of the mattress. 

“Jesus, this can’t wait until morning?” you sigh, sitting up. You switch on your bedside lamp, blinking away the harsh light to look at your new, quickly-growing-annoying friend.

Not having looked at him in a while, his once wet hair has now dried, sticking up and frizzing out in all different directions, making him look more like Bride of Frankenstein than Frankenstein. You can’t help but snicker a giggle. His brows pinch together and once again, he’s back to scowling. 

“Lighten up, would ya?” you tease. “We can give your hair a good deep condition tomorrow, then it won’t be as frizzy. Who would have thought a century of grime would be drying for the hair follicle?”

“Errrgh,” he drags out, before shifting his balance and raising a hand towards you. In his pale, scrubbed clean fist is a paper, ruled lines ripped straight from your diary— classy.

“What’s this?” You sit up even further, crossing your legs in front of you as you take the paper from him. 

Flipping it around, you read the messy chicken scratch writing scribbled across the page in sparkly pink gel ink. 

“If you knew how to write, why didn’t you say something earlier, Eddie?”

[simplygojo]

Let's Play A Game...

Prompt: “Lets play a game; don’t get caught”

Authors Note: I have not written something like this in a WHILE. This was requested/suggested on one of the prompt lists I reblogged by @smsm22. Thank you for requesting thissss, I needed a little push so I hope you like it.

I did struggle a bit but I think this is a good little blurb to re-introduce me to writing smut, haha!!! I am sorry because I do feel like this could be better, but this is the best I can do right now, I will improve on my smut writing asap, 🫡 .

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x f/reader

Word Count : 1K

Warnings : 18+ ONLY!! Power Dynamics, Smut

The cursed energy in the air was suffocating, thick and dark as Ryomen Sukuna’s voice echoed through the shadowed temple halls. You could feel him before you even saw him—his presence coiling around you like a predator toying with prey.

“Let’s play a game,” Sukuna’s voice slithered into the silence, his tone dripping with amusement. His form materialized from the darkness, crimson eyes glowing with a sinister light. A mocking grin curled his lips as he stalked forward, each step slow, deliberate. “The rules are simple: don’t get caught.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering in your chest. You never thought this was a situation you’d be in. You had heard about the king of curses before, but never thought you’d be this involved. 

The sheer intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, but instinct kicked in—survival. You forced your feet to move, bolting down the stone corridor of his own domain, your movements frantic but silent. You knew this game was stacked against you. Outrunning Ryomen Sukuna was impossible, but if you could just buy a little time…

His laughter, low and cold, echoed through the empty halls. “You can run, little one,” he mocked, “but you can’t hide from me.”

The shadows swallowed you as you darted into an alcove, pressing yourself against the rough stone wall. Your heart pounded against your ribs, each breath shallow, controlled. You couldn’t let him hear you—couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how terrified you were.

For a moment, everything was still. Too still.

And then his voice, dark and taunting, broke the silence. “Found you.”

Before you could even register the movement, Sukuna’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around both your wrists like iron. He yanked you from your hiding spot with terrifying ease, slamming you back against the wall, a satisfied grin creeping onto his face. You barely had time to gasp before his body was pressed against yours; his eyes roved over you like a predator savouring its catch. “Hmmmmm…” he growled, “You’re one of the better-looking ones…”

Sukuna’s hand slid to your throat, his grip firm but teasing, his thumb brushing your pulse point. You were completely vulnerable. He leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek as he growled, “You really thought you could run from me? How pathetic.”

His lips ghosted along your jaw, the contact sending a shiver down your spine despite the overwhelming heat radiating from him. He chuckled darkly at your reaction, his hand sliding down to your waistband and yanking down your pretty panties with force. His hold on your wrists was unbreakable as his free hand explored your thighs and travelled back up to your clothed breasts. 

There was no space left between your bodies now—just the overwhelming presence of Sukuna and the electric tension sparking between you. 

And the worst part was—you liked it.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, his voice low, leaking with satisfaction. “Good.”

Sukuna’s lips found the side of your neck, his mouth rough and possessive as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his teeth grazing dangerously as you let out a loud gasp, practically hanging from your wrists in front of him as he watched your squirm. His other hand trailed up your side, fingers tracing over the fabric of your clothes, teasing but commanding. Each touch, every brush of his skin against yours, sent waves of heat pooling in your stomach.

“You look scared,” he taunted, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “And yet…” He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “You’ve stayed still here, just for me. What a good girl you are.”

The space between you vanished as Sukuna’s mouth crashed against yours, his kiss aggressive, consuming. His lips moved with a dominating hunger, his teeth biting at your bottom lip with a growl of satisfaction. The kiss was punishing, meant to remind you of exactly who was in control, and yet it left you breathless, your body betraying the fear coursing through you.

His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as if marking you as his. The air crackled with cursed energy, and with each kiss, each rough touch, Sukuna made it clear—there was no escape. You lost.

Sukuna pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “You’re mine now, whether you like it or not,” he purred, voice dripping with arrogance. His hand slid under your shirt, fingers cold against your heated skin, tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your stomach before moving down toward your soaked pussy. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re trembling.” He said, shoving his long fingers deep into you, absolutely giddy watching your reaction. 

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your body reacting to him in ways you didn’t fully understand. His mouth was back on your body, kissing and biting it while still under his iron grip above your head. His grip was harsh; you could feel his power reverberating through your skin with every touch, every bite. You could tell how much he reveled watching you fight your natural instincts and surrender your precious body to him.

“Let’s see how much you can take,” Sukuna whispered darkly against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone as he removed his fingers from your dripping cunt, positioning himself to fully enter you. He chuckled, low and threatening, his teeth scraping against your skin as he kissed the base of your throat. “You’ve already lost.”

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Author's Note II: Just a short blurb for this one, I am still getting used to not writing academic papers lol. Always open to feedback :)