#I'll make them shorter in the future I promise

[vaokses]

Never enough for both (Pirtir, Ch.4)

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Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Both sides of the family are reunited in King's Landing to formally announce the betrothal and start the celebrations leading up to the wedding.

Word Count: 7.7k (sorry, if long chapters like this bother you, I can try to make future ones shorter or divide them in parts, let me know)

Warnings: Topic of arranged/forced marriage. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Hints at alcohol consumption in unhealthy manners. I love Maris Baratheon, so she's here, though not in all her glory as she's not taunting a man into kinslaying, sadly. ✨Childhood Companions✨. Both sides of this family are messy and annoying, and I hope I showed that properly here.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I think I'll change uploads for this story to Sundays instead of Saturdays. Hope you enjoy!

This chapter includes some stuff also mentioned/explained in How long this love can hold its breath, a prequel oneshot in Aegon's perspective.

Title is from "So, here you are, too foreign for home, too foreign for here. Never enough for both." By Ljeoma Umebinyuo.

Your morning tea with the Queen is followed by the announcement that the Velaryon fleet -and by extension your family- can be seen quickly approaching the city, with six dragons flying alongside the boats. 

You got to meet the Velaryons that arrive on the port, which are the ones sailing from Driftmark, as your mother and the rest have decided to enter the city through the Dragonpit. To your surprise, Corlys is there to greet you, after a long absence at sea. 

Baela makes very unsubtle attempts to return to the Keep on your carriage with you alone, so after a quick greeting of Princess Rhaenys and the Sea Snake, you promise to meet with them later and enter the carriage with Baela. 

Sitting across from her, you keep silent as you watch her, as you notice her uncharacteristically falter, lowering her eyes to her fidgeting hands.  

“Corlys and Rhaenys aren’t getting along, for obvious reasons. They aren’t the only ones,” She informs you. “Daemon and your mother are…at odds with one another.” 

“And you know this how, exactly?” 

“I can hear the shouting all the way from Driftmark,” She jests, the glint of defiant humor shining in her dark eyes. A breath, and she explains, “Rhaena sent a raven, told me that father was furious that this was allowed to go on.” 

“‘This’?” 

“Your marriage to Aegon.” 

“But it has been months in the planning.” 

“Perhaps Daemon hoped for an…alternate solution to present itself,” She shrugs, “We both know Father would have sent you here to kill him, not marry him.” 

You chuckle humorlessly, “I shall be on the lookout for new orders, then.” 

Instead of joking along, Baela turns to you then, dark eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Would you follow such orders?” 

You offer a smile again, but you know better than to expect her to fold. 

Still, you attempt, “Did Daemon give you orders to ask this?” 

“No, I’m just…curious. If he had ordered you to kill them, any of them, of your…childhood companions, would you have?” 

“It is a bit late to send Vermithor and I against Sunfyre and Aegon, or Dreamfyre and Helaena. We’d win, though.” 

“Undoubtedly. But that wasn’t what I asked.” 

“Daemon has issued no orders.” 

She is more alike her father than she knows, especially when she’s on a hunt. They track weakness like bloodhounds, and they don’t cease on their chase once they’ve caught a scent. 

She presses, “Perhaps because he knows you wouldn’t obey.” 

“I have always done as was asked of me.” 

“Have you?” Baela asks. While you admire her spirit, you do not intend to entertain accusations, and you turn to her with a glare that she smiles at. Bowing her head slightly, she amends, “I am not implying disloyalty, I just…I think you believe yourself less…unyielding than you actually are. I think you don’t like to admit you have ambitions of your own.” 

It is difficult for you, even now, to push back the voice that reminds you that you have been too careless, too trusting, and you have allowed Baela to see more than she should have, more than it was useful for her to see. To lie well you must never be defined or remembered, Lady Mysaria told you years ago, an ordinary face is lost in a crowd. 

And despite Baela being one of the only people you’ve been able to count on as a constant, despite the fact that by blood and love you are bound to one another, despite knowing deep in your bones that you can count on her to have your back come what may; you resent the realization that she sees in you something you didn’t intend for her to, something that isn’t useful for her to see. You do not know what to do, at the threat that she might have seen you, and might have remembered you. 

“My ambitions are to support my House and my mother. I have done only what was asked of me.” 

“Were you asked to promise love to Alasdair Tyrell in order to have him sail to the Shield Islands and turn them to your cause? Were you asked to use Cragan Stark’s…friendship with Jacaerys to force his hand when he refused to offer a proposal of marriage?”  

If Alasdair Tyrell hadn’t sailed to the Shield Islands with the Redwyne fleet and turned them to your cause, you would have no solid argument against Lady Mysaria and her wish to marry you to him. If Cregan Stark hadn’t issued a proposal of marriage you would have had to trust only in your mother’s choices to keep the North. Either alternative would mean relinquishing control, would mean uncertainty, powerlessness, and you were unwilling to even entertain the possibility. 

“I did not lie to Alasdair, my affections were honest,” At her look, you concede, “I care for him, even if I do not love him. And I merely…discussed with Cregan the realities of our expectations of one another, which he found agreeable enough to issue a proposal.” 

“Hm,” There’s a smile on her lips that she learned neither from her father or her mother, but from her grandmother. The smile of a spider with an insect caught on its web. “How convenient, then, that in your honesty you earned yourself the Reach and the North.” 

“I don’t appreciate accusations,” You dismiss, rolling your eyes at her answering chuckle. “When Vaemond plotted with Oldtown to challenge my brother’s claim to the Salt Throne, it was you who asked me to deal with it, it was you who told Daeron Velaryon I was to entertain his proposal of marriage to get him to share his father’s secrets.” 

“You choose to embody a weapon, and you mind being wielded?” She asks, hints of laughter still clinging to her tone. Baela shrugs one shoulder. “I am not judging you, so you can stop glaring at me. If anything, I admire it.” 

“Do you?” 

“While Vhagar lives, you are not yet the greatest power in the Realm. Daemon would have you kill the hoary old bitch, and I might agree with his strategy, but…I commend you for yours.” 

“Hm.” 

She chuckles again, “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Pout when I remind you of a truth you mislike hearing,” She says, “Gods, you and your brother are more alike than you like to admit, did you know?” 

All too eager to put an end to this conversation, you divert it towards Jace, and say, 

“My mother should be arriving soon with Daemon, Rhaena, and my brothers. The Queen said they are to…start the celebrations today, if the King is well enough.” 

“Is it too much to ask that they don’t arrive at all? None of your brothers should be coming here, not to mention our sister.” 

“Your s-…” 

Baela dismisses your words with a gesture of her hand, “Don’t bother.” 

You decide not to fight this unending battle today at least, and lean your head back against the seat, regarding her quietly for a few moments.  

“They have no choice but to be here, it would send the wrong message if my family fails to attend my wedding,” You say, but she presses her lips together, answering with nothing but a short grunt. “What troubles you, Baela?” 

“There are too many of us together in the same place,” She tells you, as if it is obvious. She looks out at the passing streets. “I doubt an eye is all someone will lose this time.” 

Your brow furrows. 

“You worry me.” 

She offers only a smile in return, confident and sly. 

“I assure you it is mutual, sister.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Make me.” 

 ___ 

Your mother and brothers -and you assume Daemon alongside them, you haven’t seen him as of yet- choose to spend the better part of the morning and noon with your grandsire. They remain by him as the gathering of members of the Great and Noble Houses of Westeros on the Keep grows, the highborn within the Keep and the lowborn outside of it waiting for their King to announce his son’s wedding celebrations, to write in stone the union they have known or suspected about for months now. 

Your eye catches on Mina Redwyne, second eldest of House Redwyne, as she talks with two of the Four Storms. Well, your eye doesn’t catch on her, but on the deep emerald dress she has chosen to wear. 

She notices your eyes on her, and turns to you with the clear intent to approach you. 

Turning to accept the servants offered glass of wine, you look at Baela, Rhaena, and Rhaenys and mouth save me. Before they can answer with anything other than the laugh Baela hides behind her hand, the ladies reach you. 

“Princess,” Mina greets, echoed by Maris and Cassandra Baratheon. “My congratulations on your betrothal. May the Seven bless you both.” 

You nod with a little hum, taking a sip of wine to try and dislodge the knot in your throat. It hasn’t gotten any easier to hear people speak of your betrothal, even now, just shy of having the King announce seven days of festivities before the wedding is to take place. 

“Thank you, my Lady,” You agree, smile in place, “It seems the both of us meet only for wedding celebrations as of late. First your brother’s in the Arbor, and now mine.” 

“How could I forget?” She replies. “In a sea of green and burgundy, there you were, wearing red. I can’t say I recall you ever wearing something that wasn’t red. Or black.” 

Of course she hasn’t, there was a reason for your tour and everything about it, from the servants that accompanied you to the clothes you were, were planned in order to send a message. And she knows that. 

Doing your best to mask the tiredness at the game she has only just started, you smile and say, 

“I am proud to wear my House’s colors. As any Lady should.” 

“Not all of us can afford to, Princess,” Maris Baratheon reminds you, sly smile curving at her lips, eyes trailing over Lady Mina’s green dress. “What with the mad race to be married off like cattle and all that.” 

“Hey.” You complain, gesturing with your free hand. 

Maris merely laughs, quite close to a witch’s cackle, and clinks her glass of wine against yours. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” She mocks. Her brow furrows, and her eyes divert to somewhere over your shoulder as she pretends to look for someone. “Though I believe it is your betrothed I am to extend my congratulations to? The man won a race he wasn’t even participating on, after all.” 

“You shouldn’t scorn the ways of court. You will soon be searching for a husband, sister.” Lady Cassandra, Borros Baratheon’s eldest, points out. 

“Or I could do as you do, and sulk for the rest of my days, mourning a rejection even a blind man could have seen coming,” Maris quips in response, and you share a look at the blatant insult with Lady Mina, for a moment your own quarrel forgotten. “Mother does always say I should follow your example.” 

“I’d dare say it takes more than a shared name for you to be equal to your sister, Lady Maris,” Mina quips, coming to Cassandra’s defense without a second thought. “Your House’s name was not enough to warrant you the proposals Lady Cassandra has received, was it?” 

You care much more about keeping Maris Baratheon, the cleverest of the Four Stroms and the daughter who currently holds Lord Borros’ ear, on your side than appeasing a daughter of House Redwyne. Mina has spent her life on the shadow of the Hightower, you know her alliances won’t change. 

So, making sure to keep your tone civil, but firm, you point out, 

“Some aspire to more than marriage, my Lady,” You say. “Lady Maris has much to offer her House, she can be more than a vessel for an alliance.” 

“Unlike others.” Maris bites out, cold gaze set on the other woman. Each time you spend time with her in court you realize why her mother threatens to cut off her tongue so often. 

“All women eventually have no choice but to bend, Princess,” Mina reminds you. Her gaze drops to the rubies on your dress and she adds, “Even women like you.” 

If your smile betrays something more honest, something closer to poison, then so be it. 

“There are no women like me.” 

Maris barks a short laugh, improper and unladylike, “You still believe humility to be a wasted effort, I take it?” 

“On the contrary, I find it admirable,” You lie, sharing a smile with the second eldest of House Baratheon. She returns a smile in kind, a little crooked but honest. You continue with yet another lie, “I just believe honesty is paramount when speaking amongst friends.” 

Lady Redwyne loses none of the edge, and the way her shoulders are drawn up in tension, ruffling the fabric of her dress, reminds you of a puffed-up bird. 

“We are to speak honestly, then?” 

“I dare say that sounds like a threat, Lady Mina.” Maris taunts, lifting the cup of wine to her lips and looking at the daughter of House Redwyne over the rim of her glass. 

“Of course,” You answer Mina’s question. With a small shrug, you prompt, “Speak with honesty, I wish t-…” 

You are interrupted by a hand resting on the small of your back, startling you into silence. You turn with wide eyes towards Aegon, now standing by your side, hand brazenly on you. 

“My Ladies,” He greets, brazenly false charm on display. He turns to you and bows his head slightly in greeting, “Princess.” 

“My Prince.” Lady Mina is the first to greet, and your appalment at his lack of care for manners is forgotten at the sight of her attempt at charm. Your eyes narrow towards her, but you say nothing. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I stole my betrothed from you for a while, would you?” 

The ladies acquiesce with mumbled goodbyes and promises to speak with you again after the King’s speech is delivered. You sincerely hope they cannot find you. 

Aegon leads you away from them and towards another part of the vast hall where the nobles gather, hand still boldly resting on your back. You make a point to take a step to the left, away from him, and point out,  

“It isn’t appropriate to touch me in public. We aren’t yet married.” 

“Would you prefer that I touch you in private? Because th-…” 

“It isn’t appropriate to ask that.” You interrupt, but a smile is foolishly tugging at the corners of your lips, and he notices, because his own smile widens. You look away. 

“No one expects me to behave appropriately.” 

You frown, very pointedly avoiding the eyes of the Queen and her brother as you pass them by. 

“And if I did?” 

“Then I’d disappoint you sooner than I intend to.” 

As you walk into the gardens, you stop in your pace and turn on your side to face him. hands joined behind your back, your head tilted to the side, you ask,  

“Do you intend to disappoint me?” 

He shrugs slightly, a downward curve of his mouth as he considers your question. 

“An inevitability,” He retorts. A breath, and Aegon offers an arm for you to take. An appropriate gesture, followed by an appropriate title, “Princess.” 

It shouldn’t endear you, it really shouldn’t. And yet you furrow your lips to hide a smile as you take the offered arm and let him guide you through the inner gardens of the Keep. 

“Was there something you wanted to discuss?” You ask, “You did ‘borrow’ me from the delightful company of those ladies.” 

“Not…exactly.” 

Gods, he is such a terrible liar. You mull over is answer, his actions, for a few breaths, as you walk through the busy room towards the gates to the gardens. 

“How many of those women have you fucked, that it worries you that I speak with them?” You blurt out, careful to keep your voice low, almost a whisper. You will tell yourself that the strange edge in your tone, what sounds even to you like jealousy, was part of a game, was intentional. “I know of the…activities you partake in. Court gossip may not speak about my indiscretions, but it does speak about yours.” 

“None of them,” He answers plainly. A breath, a moment of hesitation, a restless movement stalled by the weight of your hand on the crook of his arm, and Aegon turns to look at you. There’s something raw, in his slightly widened eyes, in the expectant expression. “Do you believe me?” 

You cannot help but think back on the previous night, and the careless way he gave away secrets he should have kept guarded, the way he seemed not to care that he is baring vulnerabilities with each breath, with each look. And you have this irrational and sudden anger at him for it, for this stupid bravery, this weakness, this rough honesty. 

More than anything, you are angry at the part of you that envies him for it, for being unable to wear anything but his true face. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” You answer without thinking. You aren’t sure if you’re lying or not. 

“I can think of many reasons.” Aegon retorts, wry smile curving at his lips. 

He doesn’t say anything else, and his attention returns to the gardens around you. It seems only then he notices the unsubtle way the lords and ladies scattered about keep staring at the both of you. 

“No one of noble blood is happy with this union,” You point out before he can say anything, “Every young knight and lord in the Seven Kingdoms is cursing your name, most likely. They wanted…well, it varied, but ultimately they all wanted their blood on the Iron Throne. In marrying me, you denied them of that chance.” 

“I know about being denied what I want most, but I doubt they would care about my sympathy.” 

“Do you?” You ask, the beginning of a smile curving at your lips. “What, as eldest son of a King, as a Targaryen Prince, have you been denied?” 

“You.” 

He answers so bluntly, as if the truth is without its weight, as if it is obvious, as if it isn’t dangerous to admit such a thing, that you are stunned into silence for a breath. 

“You never told me,” You say, “Before I left, you never told me of what you had attempted.” 

“Why does it matter? It wasn’t enough, it didn’t change anything,” You have the errant thought that it might have changed things, it might have changed you, if you had known, if he had told you. You say nothing though, and Aegon continues, thoughts spilling past his lips with no need for wine to loosen his tongue, truths being shared like grains of sand escaping from closed fists, “Refusing them all this time didn’t change anything either, you were still-…But I did it anyways. I was always slow to learn, wasn’t I?” 

A knot forms somewhere in your throat, something unnamed lodged in your chest. Because he is implying more than having merely asked to marry you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“My mother and Otto attempted to make arrangements, to betroth me to some lady or another, many times. I always refused them,” He shrugs, as if any of this can be easily dismissed, as if it doesn’t matter. An act, a mask of carelessness, but you notice the tension in his frame, the way his free arm is moving as if he’s fidgeting, hand opening and closing in nervous movements. “They refused to let me marry you, so I refused to marry anyone. 

“I-I didn’t…I didn’t know.” 

“You never asked.” 

“Why?” You ask, because you might have never asked before, but you have to ask now. 

“I didn’t think it would change anything, I just…I couldn’t imagine it, a-a future beside anyone but you.” 

Your chest pulls tight, and it is once again that overwhelming feeling of the night before, when he admitted to having asked for your hand before you left for Dragonstone. That feeling of flying on dragon back and falling, and landing harshly, and nearly missing a cliff. 

And the words, the accusation, to him or to yourself, you aren’t sure, rush past your lips,  

“You didn’t think of saying any of this sooner? Send a letter, something?” 

“And say what, exactly?” Aegon retorts, “That I asked to marry you, for a-a way to keep you, and was refused as if I were nothing but a boy asking for the impossible? That while you were away, forgetting me, I was still-…that I couldn’t forget? That’s all there is to it, I couldn’t forget.” 

Your eyes flicker between his, and he doesn’t bother hiding an old anger, an older hurt, and they both shine so clearly in his gaze now. Your breath stutters past your lips before any words an attempt to. 

“It wasn’t-…” 

“I told you, I wasn’t expecting it to change anything. I knew-…I know it changes nothing.” 

“And yet we are less than an hour away from our betrothal being announced.” 

“Your doing, not mine.” He retorts without missing a beat, and your short laugh does make a smile almost curve at his lips. It shouldn’t make you proud, the sight shouldn’t make you feel this strange yet welcomed nervousness. 

“If those ladies aren’t scorned lovers of yours, why the unsubtle attempt at keeping me from their company?” You ask, but more than ever it feels as if you’re playing a part. It is a familiar strategy to you, keeping a conversation going while you try to get a hold of yourself again. For the first time since you were sent away, you doubt you can. 

“The court isn’t…fond of me. Ladies like them, anyone here really, they’ll say things about me, things that are…true, even if I don’t want them to be,” He admits. Now it is you who is left looking at him while Aegon intently looks ahead. “If I can, I’d like to speak first. I just…I don’t want this to change.” 

The world has changed, long ago, for you. When you were forced to open your eyes to the truth of your and your brothers’ parentages, when you were promised your very life was at risk if your mother’s claim was not secured, when you were ordered into the Chamber of the Painted Table and instructed on what your use would be going forward and sent off to tour Westeros. 

The world changed, irrevocably, devastatingly, long ago, and it is no longer the world where you followed Helaena and Dreamfyre into the skies or the world where Aegon managed to make you laugh until you cried. The world has changed. 

The world has changed, and yet in your mind only lingers the recent knowledge that he refused to marry unless it was you, that you dedicated all you are and more to forget the foolish promises you made and he so carelessly held on to them, chose to remember them. Remember you. 

The world has changed, and yet he still feels familiar, he still seems to you the man you once knew, who could not keep a secret to save his life, who drank wine like it was a medicine drought, who managed to care deeply and not care at all in the same breath. 

And perhaps that is why you speak so carelessly now, so honestly now, 

“It doesn’t have to.” 

Silence lingers, and you are desperate for a way to fill it, to purge from your mind the thoughts that race in your head and the pointless feelings bubbling in your chest at Aegon’s admission that he refused to marry anyone else after he was denied a chance to marry you. But once again you find yourself uncertain on how to go on, on how to play. 

If Aegon is to say anything at all, it is stopped by a call from the Kingsguard for all to return inside the Keep, as the King is to join you all soon. 

The Kingsguard that made the announcement -you recognize him, he is the one sworn to Queen Alicent- bows once, but remains there, expectant, demanding. 

You and Aegon share a look, reminiscent of both that look as he took you to fly on Sunfyre for the first time, and of that last look as you mounted Vermithor and set to fly away to Dragonstone. 

___ 

You barely hear your grandsire’s words, though you do notice the way his voice is stronger, his frame standing taller, than the nights before. He welcomes the Houses to the Keep, he talks about years of strife in the House of the Dragon being put to rest, he announces your marriage to his eldest son, and yet you can only think about what Aegon so recklessly revealed to you. About what it means, about how he felt, about how he remembers you, about how he feels.

A part of you reminds you that when Lady Mysaria pushed you to marry Alasdair Tyrell, you constructed a lie and sent him off to conquer the Shield Islands in your name, to prove to her that you needn’t marry while at peace. That part of you reminds you that your threat to feed to Vermithor whoever they tried marrying you off to wasn’t a lie, that you meant it with everything that was left in you. 

The King collapses back into his seat, and even at the sight of his frailty the crowds continue in their cheer. Lady Mysaria explained to you long ago about the weight a full belly will have on the opinions of both noble and commoner, and how Viserys’ reign is but proof of that very fact. It is the reason she wanted you to marry a Tyrell, to secure the Reach, the most fertile region of the Realm. 

“I am no longer a young man, and it is no news to anyone that the years have weighed on me,” He admits, voice still somehow carrying in the cavernous room. A pale, bruised hand reaches for your mother’s, and he squeezes her hand in his before adding, “It will be Princess Rhaenyra, my daughter and heir, who will preside over the festivities to come in my stead.” 

The intention behind putting your mother, and not his wife or his Hand, as the one to act in his stead during the days to come is not lost on you, the support he once again reinstates over your mother and her claim impossible to ignore. 

You venture a glance at the Queen, and though you will admit she is not a bad player, she does not easily hide her emotions as well as other ladies of the court do. Yet now, neither surprise nor offense sour her expression, and you could swear there’s calm in the deep breath that rises and drops her shoulders. 

“I’ll endeavor to live up to your example, father.” 

“I shall hope these celebrations are only the beginning of a new age of joy and prosperity for us all,” He says, smile wide and kind. He turns to you and Aegon, and you stare back with wide eyes, because in your head resonates like a war drum, I couldn’t forget. “And I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you both.” 

___ 

The Grand Maester sent word that the King would not be well enough to join you all at the dinner to welcome your family to the Keep, and though you truly wanted to ask what was the point of such dinner if your grandsire -the only one to wish for such a reunion- was not to be in attendance, you bit your tongue and let the handmaidens ready you for it. 

It is a striking difference, that of tonight and your first night here. Where before everyone was stiffly held to their seats by the presence of the King alone, now you walk into the room and find small clusters of people talking and joking with one another. It is a tad cruel, that the one so intent on uniting them has done nothing but create further division. 

Though, the division remains. Alicent and her father sit by one another and speak in hushed whispers, while your mother stands by the other end of the table with Rhaena and Princess Rhaenys. The rest are equally divided, with your father and Baela standing by a corner and observing them all carefully, your brothers sitting together and speaking with Vaemond and Corlys, and Alicent’s children standing together on the other end of the table. 

But at least now they look like people. Dreadful people, who make it horribly hard to tolerate them, much less love them, but people. Not figurines, as unmovable and as easily cracked as Viserys’ marble ones. 

At the errant thought that lingers on your grandsire’s model of Old Valyria, you find yourself eyeing the table, and you find, unsurprisingly, a napkin folded into the shape of a dragon. 

It seems you were the last to arrive, as they all move to sit now. You let the servants guide you to the middle of the long table, sitting you right in front of your mother and Queen Alicent.  

Baela takes the seat at your right, and you are grateful, for you are certain she knows as well as you that you will be sitting across from two women at war. 

Jacaerys approaches your left side, but Aegon is faster, and when your brother pulls back the chair, your betrothed sits on it before he can. 

Aegon turns to your brother with a mocking smile, and lifts his cup in a mock toast. 

“Thank you, nephew.” 

The taunt is childish, but it is enough to irritate Jace regardless. He shares a look with Baela, and moves to sit beside Aegon, while Helaena takes the last seat of this side of the table, sitting between Jace and Aemond, who sits at the head of the table. 

You watch as your mother and Alicent engage in yet another verbal battle, speaking in the language only those who once loved one another can speak; keeping you all a captive audience. 

She shouldn’t have come here, so far from the wedding. It was a mistake to come here, not to mention bringing Daemon and your brothers with her. 

Lucerys eyes the roasted pig brought to the table and then looks at Aemond with cruel mirth shining in his dark eyes. Thankfully your grandsire, the Sea Snake, has the good sense to smack him on the back of his head and snap him out of any foolish ideas about taunting your uncle before you see yourself in need to do the same. 

You are starting to think no one in this family has been capable of an intelligent choice or has formulated a coherent plan since your mother had you flee King’s Landing and left her father’s court to the Hightowers. And for the first time, you are glad you were sent away for those two years instead of being made to stay and try and manage this madness as Jace has been forced to do, the eldest in your absence. 

“I defy my own father’s counsel in permitting this union, Rhaenyra. Do not confuse my faults with those of the men of my blood, or I will extend the same courtesy to you.” 

Dark eyes flicker to Daemon, who answers to her implication with a mocking little giggle, leaning back on his chair and crossing his hands over his stomach. 

“It is not your father’s faults that make me wary, Your Grace,” Your mother argues, the title a reminder, and it is only then that you notice Alicent referred to her by her name. She continues, “But the cruelty and injustice you imposed on my children, for years on end.” 

Alicent’s brow furrows, eyes wide with the frenzied affront of that night in Driftmark. 

“You dare speak of cruelty, when your savage sons took Aemond’s eye?” 

“I do wish they would give me some credit. I did land a few good hits on him.” Baela, sitting by your side, mutters, quiet enough that only you hear. Still, you move your foot under the table and stomp on hers in reprimand.  

She answers with a little laugh that is entirely a mirror of her father’s, and you hiss a command for her to be quiet, but she grabs your hand in hers and, with laughter still clinging to her tone, issues quietly the High Valyrian for be calm, lykirī. 

Unaware of the small exchange between you and Baela, unaware, it seems, to the entire world beyond one another, your mother and Alicent go on in their argument, in their battle of words and of silences only themselves understand. 

Your mother’s smile is a lie, a mockery, as she shakes her head, dismissing, or perhaps refusing, whatever it is the Queen has said. Rhaenyra lifts the cup to her lips and takes a slow sip of wine, putting the cup down and only then speaking again, voice calm and yet cold. 

“You do not trust me, or my family. I understand this. It is why you wouldn’t marry Helaena to Jacaerys when I proposed it,” She turns to her oldest friend then, and a part of you wishes to berate her, to hide her then, because in your mother’s gaze there’s too much truth revealed. “Can you blame me for holding the same reservations as you did, now that I must entrust my daughter, my only daughter, to your care?” 

Alicent answers with the faintest shake of her head, as if the mere idea of what your mother fear is unthinkable. She adjusts her posture, unmoving again. Though not in the way a stone statue is unmoving, but in the way thin ice is.  

“A mother’s sins are not her daughter’s.” 

Whatever it is your mother is to answer with, if anything at all, is interrupted by Daemon’s laughter, cold and mocking. 

“How easily you change your tune, now that the noose tightens around your neck.”  

Alicent’s expression sours in disgust at the mere sound of Daemon’s voice, and she refuses to entertain his accusation with a response. Her eyes, warm and sad, linger on your mother for a few breaths, before she abandons the fight and straightens in her seat. 

Your mother shouldn’t have come here, not when she longs for peace yet the man at her side dreams of bloodied hands placing a crown upon her brow; not when her sons and Alicent’s long for violence and chaos as young men are allowed to; not when all she has done, all any of them have done, is pull you in warring directions, demanding and demanding and demanding. 

You down the last of your wine, resting your empty cup on the table and drumming your nails restlessly on the glass. 

Leaning closer to Laena’s oldest who sits at your left, you gesture with your chin at an open window. 

“If I were to fling myself from that window, you gather Vermithor is fast enough to catch me before I reach the ground?” You ask Baela, who hides a smile behind her cup as she lifts it to take a sip from her wine. 

Your jest with your sister is interrupted as someone leans closer to you. You turn to watch as Aegon, sitting beside you and pitcher of wine in hand, refills your cup. 

“No, but Sunfyre might be,” He answers, as if it were him you asked that question to. At your look, he shrugs, though a smile plays at his lips. “Just say the word.” 

Stupidly, more carelessly than you should allow yourself, you find yourself smiling back as you watch him lean back in his chair. 

Your smile falls when you turn to see the expectant face of your half-sister, who stares with wide eyes and raised brows. Baela demands an explanation without even parting her lips, and you merely shrug in response. 

Uncomfortable silence falls upon you all once again as your mother’s and Alicent’s quarrel comes to an end for now. You lean closer to Baela again and whisper, 

“What does it say of me, that I am considering the offer?” 

“I know not what it says about you, but it says quite a lot about this horrid evening.” 

You lean back in your seat, eyeing the people in the room, forced together by the wishes and fantasies of a dying man, bound together more so by the shared wounds that the shared love or blood. 

“First of many.” 

“Could I convince you to marry Aegon in the ways of our House and save us all from this circus?” Baela prompts. Dark eyes divert over your shoulder, and apparently deeming it safe enough, she adds, quieter, “Or to kill him? Either way, I can gift you the dragonglass for the deed.” 

She draws a short laugh from you. 

“It concerns me that you have come armed.” 

Your half-sister turns to you, a truly affronted look in her eyes, and whispers, “It concerns me that you haven’t. If I am to leave you here, I would do so knowing you have the means to protect yourself.” 

You shrug, “I have Vermithor.” 

“He doesn’t fit in a dining room.” 

“And I need no protection when breaking bread, cousin.” 

Baela’s smile makes her eyes narrow, and she clinks her glass against yours as she advices,  

“You should ease on the wine. Usually you can lie better than that.” 

“Shouldn’t you be tormenting my brother about trade in Spicetown? Or about those dignitaries from Asshai you mentioned?” You ask with a tired sigh, but still a slow smile curves at your own lips. 

“Shouldn’t you be walking about, charming hosts and guests alike? Almost two years of one diplomatic visit after another, I doubt you spent them like this.” 

“There was something I wanted from those Lords and Ladies. All I want from our family is an uneventful evening.” 

She scoffs, “You’ll sooner bring The Cannibal to heel.” 

The tension between your mother and Alicent seems to lessen, or at the very least become more manageable, as the dinner goes on. The room is filled with the murmur of ongoing conversations, and you are enjoying some pastry with what tastes like candied figs within it when Baela leans closer again and talks by your ear. 

“Speaking of tormenting your brother,” Baela motions with her chin towards your left side. “I gather he’s much better at it than I.” 

You turn to follow her gaze, and find Aegon leaning closer to your brother, who sits straight, frame coiled with tension. Aegon mutters something only your brother can hear, gesturing with his hand, elbow resting on the table. 

“You will hold your tongue when speaking of my sister, or I will cut it off.” Jace threatens, but it seems to fall flat, for Aegon doesn’t even move away, and the sly smile on his lips only grows. 

“I’ll still have my fingers,” Aegon replies with a shrug that only makes your brother further enraged. “Not to mention my c-…” 

“Please stop talking.” Helaena interrupts, nose furrowed in disgust. 

To your surprise, Otto Hightower laughs at his granddaughter’s words, with more warmth you ever believed him capable off. You don’t think you ever remember hearing him laugh before. 

Your disbelief only grows when the Lord Hand move his chair slightly closer to his daughter’s to make room for Helaena to sit beside him and opposite of Aegon and Jace, an offer the Princess takes without a moment of hesitation. 

Jace keeps his eyes on the table before him, both hands on the table and curled into fists, “Cease playing the jester, Aegon. All here know that the mere idea that a man like you is to wed my sister is enough of a joke.” 

“Jace.” Your mother attempts, but you doubt even she believes her attempt at chastising your brother. 

“Our family has wed us to one another for generations. To keep our bloodline pure,” Prince Aemond points out, eye sharp as it focuses on your brother. “I don’t expect you to understand, nephew, but-…” 

“What is it you are implying?” 

“Hm,” He muses, gaze piercing, calculating. “I mean only to point out that you and your sister weren’t married, as Baelon and Alyssa, as Jaehaerys and Alysanne were. It is quite apparent to me why, is it not to you?”

Jace moves to stand, and Aemond refuses to let the challenge go unanswered, returning the cup to the table to welcome your brother’s advance with empty hands.  

Looking across the table at your father, you silently beg him to interfere, but Daemon is entirely too preoccupied with Aemond, assessing him as who looks at a cyvasse table to plan their next move. 

“Speak these falsehoods at your peril, uncle.” 

“What falsehoods, hm?” He taunts, his cruelty sharp and honed like a sword, “We are family, both by bonds of blood and of marriage now. Isn’t it time we stop pretending?” 

A chair screeches against the wooden floor as Luke moves to stand as well, to defend himself as well, to answer to insult with violence. With a moment of hesitation with trepidation widening her dark eyes, Rhaena stands as well. 

“Sit.” Baela hisses the command, and to your surprise both of them obey without question. You’ve seen soldiers follow orders slower. 

It is only when he sits back down that you notice Aegon too was moving to stand, no doubt to defend his brother. You look at him with raised brows, and he answers to your unspoken question as to why he obeyed your Baela’s command with a gesture of his hands as if to say what else he is supposed to do. 

Amidst the tension and the madness, you find yourself resisting the urge to laugh, and shake your head, looking away from him. You notice the smile on his lips, though, even as he too turns his attention back to Baela. 

With one last glance spared at Rhaena and Luke, it is then that Baela turns her attention to Aemond. 

She has mastered the mocking and belittling look her father directs at his children whenever they defy him, and the slight smirk curving at her lips only manages to add insult to injury. 

Aemond shifts in his place, but refuses to give any ground. Instead of recognizing her challenge, her taunt, he turns his attention to your brother again. 

“Now your brother and stepsisters fight to defend you, nephew?” 

“It does your skill a disservice, My Prince, if you believe this a fight at all,” Baela retorts, the grace of her mother and the venom of her father. The way her eyes remain relentlessly trained on Aemond reminds you of a bird of prey on a hunt. “And a disservice to your family, if you mean to imply it is dishonorable that we defend our own.” 

A mocking little hm leaves Aemond’s lips, one-eyed gaze flickering between your brother and Baela. 

“You might wish to reconsider who you consider your own, My Lady,” He taunts. A breath, two, and then his sharp gaze turns to you, before he adds, “As your sister did.” 

“Excuse me?” You ask, but neither care for an argument about your true parentage, and to be honest, neither do you. It is only a few moments later that you understand the implication in his words, that you hear the certainty that your marriage to Aegon will earn them your loyalty. 

Baela scoffs, “You are more of an imbecile than I thought if you believe that.” 

“Baela!” Princess Rhaenys chastises, but she cares not for it. 

Aemond answers with mocking laugh that only enrages her further. 

The Queen reaches over the table and grasps for her son, fingers digging like claws into his arm as she hisses some words you do not hear. It seems he doesn’t either, for he shakes off his mother’s grip and turns to face your half-sister. 

“I see you do not deny it your shared blood with the Princess. Good for you, My Lady,” Aemond’s gaze turns from Baela to your brother, and a cruel twist of his lips aids the venom to drip from his words, “My dear nephew here could stand to learn to be prouder of his family.” 

What feels like a dozen voices start speaking at once then, accusations and insults from both sides, the elder voices -the voices at fault for this madness, attempting to bring hounds to heel long after they’ve tasted blood- attempting in vain to speak over the chaos. 

And in that moment, you are five and ten once again, Luke’s nose has been broken and Aemond’s eye taken, the smell of blood lingers in the air and shrill little voices argue, shouting over one another; and the King calls for silence but they don’t listen, bloodthirsty little beasts, what is left of children after a lifetime of licking their inherited wounds.  

But it has been years since then, and the wounds are now their own, made by their own hands and adorning their own bodies, in some more evidently than in others. They remain, however, as bloodthirsty as before. 

A passing comment by Otto Hightower is enough to make Daemon’s fist hit the table, and the two engage one another, trading verbal blows with a practice older than any of their children; while Vaemond Velaryon’s reaction to Aemond’s accusations make Corlys chastise his brother, starting yet another argument. 

A low call of your name draws your attention from the chaos erupting on every corner of this room, and you turn to your left to find Aegon has stood from the table, and is offering a hand to you. 

“Huh?” Your eyes dart between his hand and his eyes. He smiles, expectant and daring. 

He motions with his head to a small door the servants have used to come and go, an invitation. 

You only realized you have made your choice, that you let your hand slip into the offered hold of is, when you are being pulled into standing, when you are fighting back laughter as amidst the chaos you let him guide you out of the room and into the servant halls that run through the Keep. 

Thank you for reading! I hope this was alright, and at least worth the wait!

Also, to make this shorter I had to cut the “reunion” between Reader and Rhaenyra and Jace. If you’d like to read that, drop an ask or something and I’ll post it.

Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @21-princess @mrs-starkgaryen @nymeriiiia @akari-rioan @dottie-witch

[covetyou]

first steps

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: cuck!Joel x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cuckolding, daddy kink, unprotected PIV, creampie, cuddle!fucking!, kinda premature ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, reader gets a brief foot rub, mention of male OC, ddlg vibes, established relationship. word count: 3.6k summary: You can't get thoughts of him out of your head, and Joel does nothing (or everything?) to help matters.

A/N: this takes place at the start of cuck!Joel's adventures in being cucked. they're on a journey of self discovery here folks. I daresay this is almost sweet and soft. look at me go. I'm growing as a person. follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

You're in bed already; teeth brushed, washed up, and those god forsaken shoes off of your aching feet, waiting for Joel and his promised foot rub. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, made longer still by the ache cramping your toes.

You huff to yourself - patience not being your strong suit when it came to Joel - and throw yourself back into the pillows. You were quite happily getting handsy downstairs, palming his erection through his dress pants when his phone had rang. At 11pm on a Friday. You'd rolled your eyes at him, pulling away as he swatted at your ass. It was a work call he said. He had to take it.

"I'll be up as soon as I can, baby," he called after you, and you had stuck out your tongue at him before disappearing up the stairs, shoes in hand.

It was okay, you figured. You'd spent the best part of the night mildly tormented. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt. From the moment you'd got to Joel's house that evening, he'd been touching you, whispering praise, telling you how beautiful you looked and how he wanted to just take you right there and then but sorry baby, we gotta get goin'. That hadn't stopped him sliding a hand up your thigh and dancing his fingertips across the front of your panties for the entire ride to the venue. By the time you got there, you were dripping and ready to come, but he had simply extracted his hand and got out of the car, leaving you hot and bothered and alone in the passenger seat.

And it hadn't got much better from there. Joel was making his way around the room, introducing you with a look in his eye that made you weak at the knees. You'd never known someone to be so proud to know you, so keen to show you off, before you'd met Joel. His hand would slide protectively up your back, drawing goosebumps across your flesh, or lightly ghost over your ass, whispering promises of later in your ear. He pressed endless kisses to your temple, and more than once you had to fight the supernova in your chest from exploding outward, flinging yourself at him with the force of it, and begging him to take you home as you wept into his mouth.

But then he'd introduced you to him. A contractor who he'd picked up on their latest job. He was shorter than Joel, and well dressed with dark hair and pristine shoes. You remember the shoes well - you'd focused on them for a long time, unable to keep looking at his face for fear of the heat that would spread to yours.

"This is my girl. Told you about her," Joel introduced you, shouting loud over the noise booming from the speakers. He kissed you on the side of the face then, watching you like a hawk as you looked up and smiled sweetly at the beautiful man before you - Andrew, from what you heard Joel say over the music - and choked out a small hello.

Joel took that moment to excuse himself.

"Gonna go get our friend here another drink."

You turned to kissed him square on the mouth before he could stride off, leaving you alone with Andrew, nipples puckering almost painfully beneath the thin material of your dress.

Small talk had been awkward all evening, mostly because you hadn't really wanted to be there, but with Andrew it was anything but. He spoke to you like it was the easiest thing in the world, laughing and joking together like you'd known each other for longer than a few minutes. You were transfixed, talking animatedly as you rested a hand on his arm, making a comment that made him laugh, a deep contagious thing that made your core drip with want. All the while, dark eyes from across a room stare at you, and you don't realize for a second that it's taken much longer than a few minutes to grab a drink.

Joel had known, you were sure of it. Maybe it was your wide eyes, or your shuffling feet played off as just the ache in your toes, but talking to Andrew did something to you, and Joel knew. Finding out he was here alone and would be going home to an empty apartment too was more of a thrill than it should have been. Not that you would be. You'd be going home with Joel, but that made the thought of him all the sweeter.

It's a thought that still lingers with you as you lie here in Joel's bed hours later. You sigh, trailing your fingertips softly up your body, willing Joel to hurry up and finish his phonecall so he can relieve the ache from more than just your feet.

And that's just how he finds you a few minutes later. Caressing your own soft flesh beneath crisp sheets, caught in a fantasy of a shapeshifting man.

"Sorry baby, was Tommy. Security called him in for a late delivery, ruined his date." You open your eyes, not realizing you'd even closed them, and look up at him with a soft smile. The shapeshift man is clear as day now, no longer shifting between the men that could be, but staying firmly as one that is right in front of you. Fuck, do you want him.

His back is to you tugging his shirt from his arms, revealing broad shoulders and his soft belly as he turns. He spots your hands moving beneath the sheets you'd tucked yourself into, unable to keep them still even now that he's here.

"Gettin' started without me?" he asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You were taking too long," you say, dragging your fingertips across the swell of your breasts and up your neck into a lazy stretch.

Reaching for your outstretched leg, he pulls your foot from its confines, making you yelp and giggle as he tugs you down the bed. He did promise you a foot rub. Strong thumbs push into your arch, rubbing there, making your foot flex, the ache in your sole abating just a little with each slow rotation. You groan, lost in the relief his hands bring, before he's switching to the other foot and doing the same all over again.

You're Jell-o by the time he's finished, kissing all over your calves, knees, thighs, as he crawls up your body.

He nuzzles into the soft front of your panties, still damp or newly damp, you're not quite sure, and breathes you in. He mouths at you over the thin fabric, and you're so desperate for more friction on your clit after hours of waiting that you wiggle, trying to grind yourself against his face.

"I know what you want when you get all wiggly, baby," he says, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. He tickles his fingers across your damp crotch, making you wiggle even more. "You want your daddy, don't you?"

"Yes, Daddy," you say eagerly, reaching down to scratch at the scruff on his face, trying to tug him up to you for a kiss. "I've been a good girl."

He presses a long kiss to your palm, nudging your hand away with his head so he can burrow his face into your mound again. "Mm. You have. Know you didn't wanna stay that long, but you did so good for me." It comes out as nothing more than a mumble, the deep vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your pussy.

The truth was you hadn't expected to like anything about this evening that didn't involve Joel. But you had, and that had made sticking around far more tolerable than it should have been, even with the consistent trickle of want through your core.

"Think we should get these panties off o' you and see what mess we're dealing with. Been worked up all night, huh?" he asks, as if he hadn't been responsible for it.

He peels your underwear from you, tugging them down your legs and throwing them behind him without a care for where they land, before he spreads you open and takes a leisurely lick through your folds. He can never resist, the sight of you so worked up for him from so little always such a temptation. He licks again, looking up at you with a smirk as you melt further into his sheets. The slippery muscle of his tongue pushes into your slick hole and fucks you gently, tasting every drop of desire you'd had for him - and Andrew.

A final peck to your clit and he's groaning, shifting up the bed to slotting in beside you with a heavy sigh, curving his broader frame against yours. You find his mouth, needing to have him close to you in every way you can, and kiss him, holding his head in your hands as his own finds its way between your legs. Large fingers stroke delicately across your pussy. His own spit makes the soft drag of his fingers effortless as he finds your clit with practiced ease, and swipes gently at the swollen nub.

Your own hands roam, drifting from his face, slyly tracing down his body until you're tucking your fingers into his pants. Only, it's not sly at all, and he's holding back his amusement when he whispers into your mouth, unzipping his pants and pulling them down before settling beside you once more. "S'alright, I got you."

Your hand immediately flies to his cock, stroking across his smooth length, wasting no time in working him back up after it had softened since your antics downstairs. When he's stiffened in your palm, standing up and knocking rigidly against his belly when you let go, you trail your fingers down to his balls. You lightly squeeze, massaging them in your palm, rolling your thumb over the soft flesh.

He groans, closing his eyes as he grabs his own dick in his massive fist, long lashes tickling his cheek. "That's it, stroke Daddy's balls. Gotta get ready to go in that pretty pussy of yours baby."

You lightly drag your nails across his sack as his slowly jerks himself, stiffening further the more you play with him. You revel in the shaky breath your nails draw from him, nuzzling into his chest. The velvety scent of his cologne is faint now, but you breathe deep regardless - the smell of his bare skin and a subtle hint of his sweat was better than any bottled fragrance anyway.

He pulls his hand from between your legs to reach over to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. Both of you know you're slick enough to take him without it, but the slip of his lubed up dick gliding so easily in and out of you without stretching you with his fingers first was too much to resist.

A sound you love to hear, a soft gasp, leaves his lips when he drizzles some of the cold liquid onto the head his engorged cock, letting you spread it over him with your own fist before nudging you onto your side, forcing you to release your grip.

He is everywhere, surrounding you in every sense. A broad arm tucks under your waist, hugging you tight to his chest with a palm pressed flat between your breasts. His lips are on your cheek, tracing wet biting kisses down your neck. You turn to moan into his pillow just as his other hand snakes its way back between your thighs, pushing the plush flesh aside to rub broad circles over your soaked pussy.

"Gonna take me in now baby, open up for me." Arching your back, you expose your cunt to him from behind as his length ruts against you, lube spreading across your thighs. He fucks between the meat of them, grazing your pussy and nudging into your clit and his own palm with each thrust.

"Don't tease, Daddy," you whine, already so far gone you're ready to plead with him to just fuck you already.

"No teasin' baby, you've been so good for me. Gonna give it straight to you. Here it comes," and he feeds the tip of his cock into you, gently fucking you with his thick head. You push your hips back, slipping more of him into your wet heat, delighting in the feeling the stretch in your cunt and his ragged breath on the back of your neck. Slick dribbles out of you, coating him as he pushes in to the hilt.

"Ohhh, f- mm."

He holds you tighter when you moan, his front flush with your back. You're totally cocooned in his arms as he begins sliding his cock in and out of you with minute thrusts of his hips.

Being cuddled and fucked like this was your favorite. His hands could roam freely, stroking your belly, tugging at your nipples, sticking a finger in your mouth for you to suck on, all whilst his hips gently rocked into you, your pussy coating him, dripping wet slick all over him and making a mess between the two of you the longer it went on. And it could go on. Sometimes he would make you lie here for what felt like hours, talking and watching a movie as he painfully slowly fucked you, keeping himself hard for so long you feared it'd do damage. When he eventually came, it'd be an easy thing, a few quicker thrusts pulling him over the edge and spilling his cum inside you, painting you, filling you so full it'd leak out of you where he had you plugged. You loved those days.

This was not one of those days.

He starts snapping his hips quicker, thrusts still shallow as his fingers start to rub deliberate circles over your clit once again. Remembering your manners you stutter out a quick thank you Daddy when his fingers pick up the pace.

"Can't get enough of your daddy's cock, can you? It's all you want."

You make a noise, somewhere between a groan and a negative. After today you couldn't say it was. You'd seen the way he had looked at you, and the way that Joel had looked at you because of it. Whatever that was, you wanted it, and you were pretty sure Joel did too.

"No? You want other dicks in this pussy?"

Biting into the pillow, you nod, stifling another whine. You'd almost be ashamed that you'd been so obvious with it, flirting too brazenly in front of too many people, but you're too far gone to care.

"Fuck yeah, you do. My baby wants to be filled with so many cocks, don't she? Have 'em fuck you and then you come crawling back to me to kiss it better."

And that's it, that's the thing that sends you over.

"Oh fu-Daddy, D-Daddy, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

His cock slips further into you, stretching you out and dragging against every part of you as his fingers pull an orgasm from your twitching clit.

"That's it. You come thinking about all those cocks that are going to ruin this pretty little hole."

You do. The arms wrapped around you are Joel's, but you imagine the cock buried in you is anyone but. Faceless strangers, acquaintances, colleagues. You want it so badly that when your orgasm finally wanes, you let out a feeble sob, burying your face into the pillow once more.

He holds you tightly to him, grinding into you slow and deep, your pussy sloshing wetly around him with your release.

"It's okay," he coos as you shudder, crowding over you now to nuzzle into your cheek. "Don't hide from me. You're allowed to have a greedy little pussy baby. Daddy doesn't mind."

He cradles you to him, letting his cock rest inside of you as he strokes you all over, coaxing you down from your orgasm. When you come to, unfurling from the ball you'd tucked yourself into, dried streaks from a few unnoticed errant tears on your face, he starts to rock again, peppering your face with kisses. You let out a small laugh, feeling silly now that his words, those words, could make you come that quickly and that hard. But then he blindsides you with an offer you weren't expecting.

"How 'bout we find you someone to play with when Daddy's not around?"

You'd almost approached it before, the two of you dancing around the idea of there being someone else, another body, shared with you or taken separately. Joel had joked about other men fucking you, watching you suck their cocks, but you never knew if he was serious.

"How 'bout Andrew, huh? Bet you'd like his mouth here," he touches your neck, trailing two rough fingers down your torso, stopping at your breasts to tease and pinch your nipples. "And here."

His hands move lower and you close your eyes, imagining Andrew's mouth. You can practically fucking feel it - whisps of well groomed facial hair scratching at your delicate skin. Andrew had been so handsome - suave, funny, interested. You'd noticed how his eyes had been drawn to you, subtle flicks down your body, taking you in, as he tried to maintain an air of politeness, of respect for his boss and his girl. You wish he respected Joel a little less.

Joel's fingers finally meet your clit and you moan. "Here too."

"I'm- f- I'm so close again daddy," you whine, not ready for another one so soon.

"You gonna come on your daddy's cock thinkin' about Andrew filling you up?" You nod frantically, unable to hold back anything any more as your cunt pulses around his stiff length. "You are? Oh fuck, you are."

He's cuddling you again, holding you tight as he snaps his hips into yours. He's breathless when he next speaks to you, whispering filth into your ear.

"You'd look so pretty creamin' around his cock baby, just like you do for Daddy." The moan that leaves your mouth is something next to a cry, ready to sob at the idea of how good it'd feel to have Andrew touch you, to come back and tell Joel all about it, to snuggle into his arms, safe and warm and used.

You're lost in the daydream as Joel fucks you, talking you through it, pulling you deeper into the fantasy. You can't stop it any more, your entire body convulsing as you come yet again, the imagined flick of Andrew's tongue on your over sensitive clit being the thing that finally sends you flying.

"Uhh-A-Andrew."

"Fuck yeah that's it, say his name."

"Andrew, f-yes. Please, Andrew, please."

Joel tenses behind you, gripping you harder around the middle as he can't hold back, barely moving his hips at all. The thought alone had pushed him so close to the edge he's tumbling over it without warning, spurting heavily into your dripping pussy, coating your walls with his cum. "Oh fuck, shit, fuck I'm coming, ohhh fuck."

He holds you tighter for a long while, his cock throbbing and heavy inside you, breathing deeply as his thumbs gently stroke over your skin, soothing you now that your second orgasm had abated.

"Mm, I'm sorry baby. Looks like Daddy made a mess of you quicker than he expected, huh? You're just such a good girl for me." You preen at his praise. Even now you were his good girl, and you loved how wanting another man to fuck you could make him lose control so easily. It's all a dream, it's got to be.

Your vision is still blurred when he turns your head to face him, brushing his nose softly against yours. "Just love how greedy your pussy is, baby. How much you want her filled up."

"I want it, Daddy," you whine pathetically into his mouth. "Want to be filled up." By Andrew.

You didn't need to say the silent part out loud for Joel to know what you wanted. After all, if you wanted something, it was a sure fire bet that Joel Miller already wanted it too.

"I can ask him. If that's what you want," he says it softly, almost a whisper as he caresses the side of your face. His softening cock slips from you, cum gushing out with the release of pressure, flooding your thighs with a wet mix of lube and Joel's cum and your own release as you think of him again.

Him. Joel would ask him for you - the fantasy could become a reality.

"Are you... are you okay with that?" You search his eyes, trying to find any trace of uncertainty there. There's none, just burning hot fire, a need, that courses straight from him into you and back again.

"Wouldn't be offerin' if I weren't, darlin'. Besides," he grins at you. "Good girls get to go on playdates."

"Joel!"

"What?!"

"A playdate? Really?"

"Well, if you don't want it.."

You hit him, hand slapping playfully against his chest and he's suddenly rolling on top of you, growling as he scratches his beard against your neck. It tickles, and your feeble attempts to fight him off are made even weaker by the laugh bubbling in your belly.

Your face hurts from smiling and holding back laughter when he pulls back from the onslaught on your neck. He's marked you, of that you're sure, and of another thing too.

"I want it."

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[thehighladywrites]

— “ me? jealous? of course I am…”

☀︎- pairing: Professor Eris x reader, part 2

☀︎- summary: Your secret relationship with Eris is going excellent, until Professor Jensen steps in and tries to flirt with him. Of course, you go ahead and flirt with your classmate as revenge. What do you do when you’re then caught by the same professor as youre bent over Eris’s desk, getting railed?

☀︎- warnings: smut, jealousy on both sides, getting caught, reader being called whore, public sex, PROTECTIVE READER, professor Rhysand is mentioned👀, Feyre being an amazing friend that helps reader scheme, blackmail, Eris realizing he is in love with reader, fluff, taboo relationships, both are obviously old enough.

☀︎- amara’s note: I loved writing this, reader is literally so hot in this omg, also this isn’t my best work but i really liked it anyways!! if u see any typos, your eyes are deceiving you🤷🏽‍♀️

Part 1

Hmm…

Black miniskirt with a white top or the beige pants with a knit sweater?

Surrounded by clothes, scattered across your dorm, you found yourself stuck between two outfit choices. Both looked good, but as you considered where you'd be wearing them, a mischievous smile crossed your face. Opting for an even shorter skirt, you couldn't help but anticipate the classes ahead.

After the confrontation with Professor Eris, you began meeting in secret, kissing between classes, fucking in locked closets, having lowkey meetings at his house. You exchanged numbers and found yourselves frequently texting too.

Well, sext is more like it.

The exchange of messages, if discovered, held the potential to lead to catastrophic consequences. The risk heightened the thrill and danger of the secret relationship, creating a clandestine affair between you.

There had been nudes and videos, audios and links. There had been some blush inducing texting, his words always sparking something in you. Eris was a true charmer, skillfully making you feel exactly what he wrote with a magnetic touch in his messages.

Dressing swiftly and slipping on your shoes, you and Feyre head to class. The only class you shared alone with him was Advanced Literature, but you also had Philosophy together, with Feyre joining in as well.

“You're glowing, Y/N. Any particular reason?” you heard the playful tone in her voice, suspecting that she must have some inkling about someone special in your life.

Shit, you had to be more careful. Feyre was vicious when it came to solving things, and she was one of the most intelligent people you knew. If you told her about Eris, you knew she'd keep it a secret, especially since she always raved about Professor Rhysand in International Relations. She might be a little weirded out, but she wouldn't judge.

“Okay, fine, I'm seeing someone, but you can't tell anyone, promise me. He's very, um, shy and he doesn't like to be around people. Maybe I'll introduce you guys to him sometime in the future, but it's still so new,” you confessed with a half truth, hoping Feyre didn’t see through your bullshit.

Feyre looked at you curiously from the side of her eye and nodded, promising that she'd never tell anyone.

“Is he at least good to you? I mean, he must be. I've never seen you like this before. You're happier than ever. Just please tell me it's not Ilias. He doesn't deserve you, and he never will,” she expressed, concern and sincerity in her voice as she grabbed your hand.

Squeezing her hand back, you assured her that it was over between you and your ex for good this time.

“I promise, Fey. It's over with him. I actually can't believe I went back to him so many times. I literally saw him yesterday in the cafeteria, and I nearly threw up; he was icking me out. Let’s just say that the guy I'm seeing is a bit older, he's really hot, and he makes me feel super good, if you know what I mean.”

You wiggled your brows, and Feyre threw her head back, laughing at your suggestiveness. You kept holding each other's hands until you got to class, finding comfort in your friend.

——

You insisted on sitting at the front, ensuring a clear view of your little secret. The desks were the perfect height, and when he sat at his own desk, he'd have an unobstructed view of your skirt. Just the thought pulled a sly smile from your lips.

The big doors opened up with a thud, and his steps resonated throughout the entire lecture hall. You looked at him and immediately had to look away before a blush crept up on your face. Eris was wearing black, sleek slacks that hugged his thighs and a crisp white shirt, showing his bulging arms. His shoulders looked so fucking massive,he looked so good it nearly made you drool.

He sneaked a glance in your direction before his eyes dropped to your skirt. He huffed a small, subtle smile and looked away.

———

Every time your eyes met, your stomach turned molten, and your thighs clenched. One look from him, and you'd honestly do anything he wanted. Throughout the entire class, you simply scribbled, pretending to hear a word he said. It felt like your whole body vibrated everytime he asked you a question, finding reasons to keep eye contact without anyone raising any alarms.

However, your little dreamy bubble was burst when another professor came in, her heels clicking against the floor in an uneven manner.

Your stomach sank as she got closer and closer to Eris. Your pen eventually snapped from the force of your grip when she put her grubby little fingers all over his arm, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she smiled and pressed her boobs against him.

But what really pissed you off was that he smiled at her.

It felt like someone was sitting on your chest, making your teeth clench. You were seething inside, angry that someone dared to touch him like this. Even though you had been sneaking around for just over two months, you had grown a bit possessive over him and really didn’t like it when other people got so close.

A pout crept onto your face as you looked around, noticing that no one paid much attention to them. Your fellow classmates took the opportunity to chat, oblivious to the storm brewing within you.

Feyre couldn't help but notice the visible change in your demeanor as your eyes burred into Eris.

The pout on your face, the tension in your shoulders – it all screamed discomfort. With a keen eye, she observed the unwarranted familiarity of the other woman's touch on Eris's arm.

Feyre raised an eyebrow and nudged you gently with an amused smile.

“What's going on, Y/N? You look like you're ready to kill someone.”

Your eyes flickered between Feyre and the scene with Eris, frustration evident in your expression. “That professor is all over him, Fey. It's making my blood boil. I mean, we’re in the middle of class, how unprofessional and disgusting to be flirting with him. And who knows, maybe he has a girl or a wife or something. She shouldn’t just do that.”

Having had enough of the scene in front of you, you stood up abruptly, grabbing your bag with frustration evident in your movements. As you left the classroom, you didn’t spare Eris a single look as you felt his eyes burning into yhe back of your head. Glancing back at Feyre, you cocked your head toward the door, silently asking if she was coming. She swiftly gathered her things, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and skipped over to join you in exiting the classroom.

Feyre smirked knowingly before whispering, “So, you fucking the professor or what?”

Your cheeks heated up, and you stammered, “Well, it's new, and I didn't want to say anything yet, but yeah. And before you ask, no it’s not for the grade. I really like him and he likes me back. We just have to keep it under wraps at school but we’re not using each other. And how the hell did you know, am I really that obvious?”

Feyre chuckled. “Baby, it's written all over your face. Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. Now, how are we going to handle this?”

Together, you and Feyre plotted a subtle yet effective way to make him jealous. Little did you know, your friend was excited to have some drama to navigate, especially involving a professor.

———

Your phone vibrated for the millionth time in the past days. Eris had been persistent, trying to reach out through calls and texts, but you'd been deliberately ignoring him all week. Regret gnawed at you, and anger surged as you recalled how he allowed that girl to touch him so publicly. Hurt and frustration clouded your thoughts, envisioning what could have happened if they were alone.

A sense of unease crept in, wondering if he grew tired of the secrecy and sought someone more mature and available—someone who wouldn't risk landing him in legal trouble. The uncertainty lingered, leaving you with a mixture of emotions.

Maybe you were a bit dramatic for completely ignoring him, but who cares?

You swallowed hard and got dressed, opting for the same skirt you had on the last time. Today, you had a plan—a little revenge against Eris. Your strategy involved flirting with a classmate, and you knew just the person: Ilias's best friend, Alex, who always used to check you out when you were dating Ilias. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Entering the hall, you slumped down next to him, subtly rearranging your hair and adjusting your bra, making yourself look absolutely irresistible. The game was on, and you were ready to see how Eris would react to a taste of his own medicine.

He was already there, eyes tracking and narrowing when you slumped down next to Alex.

“Hi Alex, how are you doing?” you asked, tilting your body so that he’d have a nice view of your pushed up tits.

His face turned red and he gave you a shy smile.

“Hey, y/n. I’m good, a bit surprised you’re talking to me.”

Yeah, you were really fucking surprised too.

You sighed dramatically. “ Ugh, I totally understand. I mean, I really wanted to befriend you back then, but you know how Ilias is. Always so possessive. Guess he was really threatened by you. He always thought I'd leave him for you, and if I'm honest, I probably would've. You're really cute.”

Your words hung in the air, leaving a calculated impression as you watched his reaction, wondering how this little act would play into your plan.

His eyes widened in surprise, and a subtle grin formed on his face. “Ilias always had a way of complicating things, huh? Well, I'm flattered, hot stuff. I hope you're doing okay now.”

You leaned in, lowering your voice as you let your breast spill out slightly, knowing that Eris was watching your every move.

“Oh, I'm doing much better now. Free from all that drama. Maybe we should grab a coffee sometime and catch up. You know, properly.”

He chuckled, a hint of mischief in his expression. “Sure, sounds like a plan. I'd love to hear more about your new freedom.”

You blew him a kiss before you left him with a seductive smile, the plan unfolded just as you'd hoped. Now, you anticipated Eris's reaction, eager to see how he'd handle the tables turning.

———

Eris was visibly fuming, shooting Alex murderous glares. Throughout the entire lecture, he directed almost every question to him, knowing damn well that he wouldn't be able to answer them.

“That's the fourth question you've gotten wrong, Mr. Halsted. Are you sure this is the right class for you? Regular Lit with Professor Lunden is on Wednesdays; maybe you've gotten them mixed up,” Eris remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled hostility. The tension in the room escalated as your revenge plan unfolded.

A small pang of guilt tugged at you as you watched Eris target Alex with relentless questioning. However, any sympathy you might have felt was swiftly replaced by the memory of Alex covering up your ex's cheating. In that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to feel sorry for him, and a sense of satisfaction lingered as the tables turned in your little revenge plot.

As the class finished, Eris dismissed everyone except for you. The lingering tension in the room was palpable as your fellow classmates exited, leaving you alone with Eris. The air crackled with anticipation, and you braced yourself for whatever confrontation was about to unfold.

“I've been trying to reach you for days. Why haven't you been answering me?” Eris questioned, frustration evident in his voice.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You did? Must've missed it. And besides, aren't you too busy with that professor? What the hell do you need me for?” Your tone held a mix of nonchalance and defiance, ready to confront whatever explanation he might offer.

“If you're talking about Professor Jensen, then you have it all wrong. I don't have anything going on with her. Unless you’ve forgotten, I'm yours. And you're mine, so just what the hell are you doing asking Alex out for coffee?” Eris's words were a mixture of frustration and confusion as he sought an explanation from you. The tension in the air hung thick, awaiting your response.

Oh. Fuck.

A realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You had let jealousy take over, assuming the worst about Eris without even giving him a chance to explain. Your fear of being played again had clouded your judgment, and now you found yourself in a mess of your own making.

“Really? I thought you were sleeping with her or something. I'm so sorry for not letting you explain. I have some trust issues I need to work on. But why was she so close?” Your admission carried a mixture of relief and remorse as you acknowledged your mistake.

Eris eyes softened as he stepped closer, bringing you into a hug while he stroke your hair lovingly.

“She was close because wants me to go on a date with her. I've let her know I'm unavailable several times, but she doesn't seem to understand. Professor Jensen is married as well, and if I told the dean, he'd tell her husband since they're good friends. The only reason she hasn't tried anything further than to touch me is because I keep threatening her to tell the dean,” Eris explained, his words carrying a mixture of frustration and determination. It was clear he had been dealing with an unwelcome situation, trying to maintain boundaries despite the persistence of Professor Jensen.

Your jaw clenched at the thought of her going after him despite his boundaries. You wrapped your arms around him, silently promising to take care of her.

No one would be making him uncomfortable ever again with you around.

A brilliant idea sparked in your mind. You had overheard that Professor Jensen was coming here between classes, presenting the perfect opportunity to assert your claim on Eris and make it clear who he truly belonged to. Hoping she'd understand and leave your man the fuck alone, you started mentally preparing yourself.

“Let me show you how sorry I am, Er,” you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him briefly before pulling away. You took charge, grabbing his hand and leading him back to his chair by the desk as you made him sit down in front of you.

Standing between his thighs, you leaned forward, placing kisses on his lips, cheek, jaw, and neck. Your lips traveling over his hot skin. You had noticed how incredibly warm Eris was, it was like his skin was like a furnace.

As you contemplated your next move, the realization of your plan sank in.

You were about to fuck your professor, infront of another professor in an unlocked lecture room.

Anyone could walked in.

Suppose you just had to work quickly then.

Your eyes were on his as you bent forward, hooked your finger around your panties and slid them down your legs. You slowly stripped your shirt off, leaving you naked except for your thigh-high stockings, mini skirt, and bra.

A bit slutty for class, you’ll admit.

But whatever you looked good.

Eris's gaze dropped to your body, his hands forming a circle, signaling for you to spin around and show yourself. Giggling, you spun as you showed him your body, lifting your skirt up a bit before getting closer and plopping down in his lap. Eris’s hands automatically came around your waist, holding you in place as you unbuckled his belt, pulling out his cock.

“You’re so big, Eris. Please can I ride you?”

“What a nasty girl. Sitting in her professors lap, begging for cock. You know what were doing is wrong, yet you’re here, dripping wet, grinding all over me.” His teasing tone made your nipples tighten and stiffen, making you whimper in pleasure.

Before you could respond he lifts you up, flipping you around as he bends you over his desk. You gasp, letting out a noise of surprise at the sudden change. His presence warmed your nude back as he carefully slid into you, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you let out a moan.

He’s so fucking big and every drag against your sensitive walls made you lose your mind. You’d never been fucked this good, ever.

“ Is this what you wanted? Getting fucked in the middle of class? The doors aren’t even locked, sweetheart, anyone could walk in and see how much of a slut you are,” he gritted out between thrusts.

And as if the universe was working with you, the doors opened and professor Jensen walked in.

She looked horrified and let out a yelp.

“What is going on here?” she yelled at you, stepping closer.

You just smirked around her, fucking yourself back at Eris who had completely stopped.

“What does it look like professor? I’m getting fucked by my man.” you emphasized the last part, staring into her eyes as your hands possessivly grabbed his arms on either side of you as you stood straighter.

She scoffed, looking smug as she approached you. “You disgusting whore, you probably did this for a grade. Poor Eris got played by someone whose only interest is a boost in their academic career. Just wait until I tell the Dean.”

You felt Eris tense at her disgusting words towards you, but before he could snap at her, you started laughing.

“Poor Eris knows I’ve been a straight-A student since his father was teaching the course. Poor Eris fucks me because he wants to. And no, you won’t go to the Dean.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, smirking.

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

It was your turn to smile as you played your trump card.

“Because the second you step out of this lecture hall, I’ll send your husband the videos of you flirting with what’s mine. Yeah, I heard your husband pays for your lavish little lifestyle, and that he’s super big on monogamy, something you’re not apparently. So, you won’t tell anyone about us unless you’re ready to lose your lifestyle.”

Professor Jensen's expression shifted from smug to shocked as your words hit her. She stammered, clearly caught off guard by your unexpected revelation.

“You can't... you don't have any proof!” she protested weakly.

You raised an eyebrow, a sly grin playing on your lips. “Oh, don't I? You see, I've got quite the collection of evidence, not just a video. Texts, emails, photos—enough to make your husband divorce your old ass in a heartbeat.”

Eris watched the scene unfold, a mixture of surprise and amusement on his face.

“Now,” you continued, “we can all go on with our lives. You won't bother us, and I won't ruin yours. Agreed?”

She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly nodding, defeated by the leverage you held. You smirked, satisfied with the turn of events.

“Oh, and if I hear a whisper of you pursuing Eris ever again, your excuses won't matter—I'll make sure to ruin your life.”

As she hurriedly left the lecture hall, Eris turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“My, look who has got a knack for theatrics. You don’t actually have any evidence do you, love?”

You smile at him, shaking your head and gasp delighted as he continues fucking you.

“N-no, it was just a bit of intimidation, oh f-fuck, h-harder please.”

Warmth spread through your body as he kissed your neck and check, whispering praises and thanks.

“Thank you, sweet one, you’re such a perfect girl. So good for me.”

He kept pounding harder and harder, pulling you in by your neck as you were held flush against his chest, hands lightly squeezing your throat as your eyes crossed at the lightheadedness.

His dirty words, whispered in your ears made you tighten around him impossibly, and it sure as fuck didn’t help when he angled his hips, hitting that spot that made you cum with just a few strokes as he rubbed your clit, sucking on your neck.

It was all too much and you were starting to get overstimulated, but you still wanted him to cum so you grabbed his fingers and sucked on them as they hit the back of your throat nearly making you gag.

Finally you felt a warmth filling you up as he slowed down, groaning as his hands tightened around your throat.

You both sank into the chair, catching your breath. The air was thick with lingering desire, and a serene haze enveloped your mind, leaving only the soft hum of satisfaction. Eris knew you had reached that fuzzy state where you wanted to be cared for, not being able to make any decisions about anything as you floated in your mind. Glancing at the clock he realized that this classroom would be filled with 200 students in about 10 minutes so he reluctantly pulled out and began dressing you both.

“I’m canceling my last class, sweetheart. Let's head to my place, order some food, and just relax,” he whispered, sealing his words with a kiss. Even if the details blurred in your mind, you held onto him, your trust unwavering.

Eris faced an unexpected challenge; your legs gave out, complicating the journey to the secret alleyway where he usually picked you up.

With gentle care, Eris scooped you up bridal style, hoping the alley would be empty today. Skillfully using back entrances and listening for any signs of intrusion, he made his way to his car. As he approached, he checked for any onlookers before settling you gently in the front seat, which he had reclined for your comfort, its tinted windows offering privacy.

Arriving home, Eris couldn't help but steal glances at you as you peacefully slept in the passenger seat. He marveled at your beauty, cherishing the simple joy of having you close.

You stirred, adjusting to find a more comfortable position. Eris gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, captivated by your peaceful beauty.

“Mm, thanks for taking care of me, baby. I love you.”

Hearing those unexpected words, Eris froze. He had known it all along, the feelings growing within him. Yet, he wondered if you were merely tired, your words slipping out without realizing what you were saying.

In the warmth of the moment, his heart fluttering and butterflies dancing in his stomach, he lifted you up, carrying you into his bedroom. There he laid next to you , nerves nearly making him want to throw up as he whispered back the words he had never heard or spoken before,

“I love you too.”

Upon hearing those words, you pulled him closer, resting your head on his chest and placing gentle kisses where his heart beat. Intertwined, you both repeated those three words, reassuring each other that this love would endure forever.

Eris had no doubt in mind, you loved him as he loved you. It was a gentle reminder for someone who hadn’t experienced love before.

[ascendanttarot]

PAC: Messages From Your Spirit Guides

Hi everyone! This PAC will cover whether your spirit guides have any messages or guidance for you. This is a little shorter than the last PAC but only a little bit, promise! I'll list a few signs for every pile before your reading to ensure you have picked the right pile for yourself. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. And! You’ll get a channelled song! :)

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3

Pile 1

Signs:

You play guitar or favour the sound of acoustic guitar in your songs

You listen to the following bands/artists: Hozier, Florence + the Machine, Mitski, and other similar artists

This is a weird one, but when cleaning you like buying the sprays/wipes/detergent with a fruitier smell?

You like going on nature walks

You read poetry

Your cards: The Tower, Queen of Cups rx, (clarified by the Six of Swords rx) Page of Wands

Your message: Something unfolded in ways you could have never imagined. It’s like all your backup plans fell apart too, and your optimism has been taken away from you. I just heard ‘victim of circumstance’. This is a difficult message to give, but your guides are saying whatever happened, happened beyond anyone’s control. You tried to shield yourself from these difficult emotions by hardening your heart, creating distance between you and your feelings... but you’re spirit guides are asking you, “Is this really worth it all?”. It won’t be an easy feat to move on from this situation, and your guides understand that. However, they’re saying that when the time comes and the right opportunity is in front of you to take that first step of healing, please take it. The best part of your life requires a childlike sense of wonder. It’s going to require a lot more determination and ambition than what you’re feeling now. Your guides are saying to take your time to feel messy, and when it’s time to heal, don’t rush yourself to do that too. They’re here for you if you ask them. They believe in you even if you don’t believe in yourself, but they are waiting patiently and happily for a time when you’ll start standing by your back too.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Song: In Your Own Sweet Time by Zaska, Karen Cowley and Hozier

Pile 2

Signs:

You have an alternative sense of style

You love 80s music. I just heard Wham and The Cure to name a few of the bands that popped up in my intuition

Odd sign to give, but you may have had a vaporwave phase? If you know, you know

You like Fantasy and Sci-Fi books and shows

Another odd message to give here—you may be sensitive to touch, but it goes both ways? Like you can only wear certain fabrics, or you like soft things, but also people may say you give good hugs

Your Cards: 8 of Swords rx, 6 of Cups, The World

Your Message: I just saw the image of your spirit guides popping open a bottle of champagne with a knife before chucking (yes, that violently) streamers and confetti! You know why? Because. You. Did. That. You’ve just come out of a period in your life when you had to do some intense shadow work. You’ve worked on your biases, and have started to fix your flawed systems on your environment and yourself; your spirit guides could not be more proud of you. They’re celebrating 24 hours a day 7 days a week because that chapter of your life is over! This new phase of your life will be given gently to you with the love and compassion you deserve. I think this may be an opportunity to let yourself be seen by others again. At the very least you’ll be hanging out with old friends and making new ones, but at the most, I’m seeing possibly an opportunity for a project to start online. Either way, your spirit guides will have your back for that in the future. For now, though, they’re asking you to put your feet up and high-five yourself for how far you’ve come!

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Your Song: Blame It on the Boogie by The Jacksons (I’m serious, they’re having a party right now haha!)

Pile 3

Signs:

You prefer the dusk over the dawn

You like RnB, so artists like Victoria Monét and Ashanti might be familiar artists to have in your playlists. I also heard Destiny’s Child and Ms. Lauryn Hill

I feel like you might like, collect, or work with crystals and metals. I just saw some people here may wear protective jewellery

You like sports, or were heavily involved in sports when you were younger, but you aren’t anymore

I just heard ‘helping hand’, so you may just be a really helpful and generous person. You’d be the friend people go to if they need advice on something

Your Cards: 2 of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Cups

Your Message: Okay this feels pretty straightforward. Your spirit guides want you to know that you’re coming into a divine partnership (not necessarily romantic if that’s not you’re thing or if you’re aromantic, so this could be a friendship or a business partner even) very soon. With the emphasis on the number two in this reading, this may correlate with timings in your life. You may meet this person in 2 weeks, 2 months, or even within the span of 2 years, but there’s a strong message of divine timing working in your favour. I feel you may have issues trusting the people around you to have good intentions because of negative experiences in the past. This person won’t break that mental belief for you, you’ll do that yourself, but they will certainly be the catalyst for it. Maybe the reason why you’re so jaded is because you’ve hoped for this so long the hope soured to cynicism, but this is not the natural state of your soul. This person will offer you the emotionally mature partnership you’ve dreamed of, with a sensitivity for you and your feelings you aren’t used to. Your spirit guides can’t wait for you to meet them because I’m hearing this relationship will be healing for all the parties involved. They’re with you on this every step of the way.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

Your Song: Love Is on My Side by Brandy

[the-dreadful-bard]

The Dreadful Bard Rejanis Fics Masterpost

Last Updated on Sept 16th.

Guys, I'm going on a little break to focus on my mental health bc I'm going through a lot right now. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible. I'm likely going to run out of Rejanis memes on Sept 22nd as I have been temporarily unable to make more. I'll be back with more fics too, I just need some time. I appreciate your understanding and patience during this time. Thank you.

-

Hey! I've been writing a lot since the start of the year so I thought I'd make this post just for the sake of being well-organized. I'll update this as I write and post new things, both here and on AO3.

Adding a read more link because this is a long post. Here you're gonna find the links to all of my Rejanis works and the summary of each one.

Future works post (Please take a look at that if you haven't, I mention some stuff that's very important for you to know if you like ANY of my writing and want me to keep posting it)

TLDR: New installments of the series, new oneshots for the collection, multichapter fantasy/d&d au (summary for it on the future works post so check that out), 3 other multichapters that may or may not be written, plus a bunch of other shorter stuff as I get new ideas and inspiration.

ONESHOTS

Oneshot based on this:

Under the blossom tree

Summary: Collection of Rejanis oneshots inspired by songs.

stuck on you

Summary: Regina gets home sleep-deprived and exhausted after a hard day at the office, but realizes she forgot her keys at work. Too tired to drive back to fetch the keys, she tries to get in through the window but gets stuck. Luckily for her, the fire department sends her aid in the form of one Janis ‘Imi'ike.

lyrics for a misunderstood mean girl

Summary: Regina hasn't seen Janis in two years because things keep getting in their way.

or

the one where Janis and Damian write Mean Girls the musical.

one thing I can't lose (kind of my favorite oneshot)

Summary: Janis somehow finds herself at Regina's door after the girl gets released from the hospital. Regina recruits Karen to decode her complicated gay feelings.

or

The one where Karen is a genius who can do no wrong, Regina is a feral chihuahua wearing a cone of shame, and Janis can't say no to her former nemesis.

feline disposition

Summary: Janis disappears and everyone is having a terrible time.

Completely unrelated to that, Regina rescues a cat from the rain in the middle of the night.

or

the one where Janis is a cat.

Attempt #19

Summary: Janis and Regina have been meeting in secret for six months and their communication is... not great.

Regina wants them to go public and get serious but Janis, convinced she wants to break up, never lets her say it.

or

the one where they actually talk after months of miscommunication.

Old stuff from 2019:

Hair

Home

MULTICHAPTERS

threads, oil paints, and textbooks - COMPLETE

Summary: Regina George starts a new year as one of Elizabeth T. Richmond Public School's teachers and finds out that one of the new faculty members is someone she'd been hoping to run into since leaving Illinois almost 16 years earlier. A lot has changed since then, but as everyone realizes, Regina and Janis still have a lot of unexplored feelings for each other.

The ballad of Moonlight & Solar Flare (pls give it a chance i promise its really good) - COMPLETE

Summary: Regina and Janis, as Moonlight & Solar Flare, used to fight crime together until something drove them to opposite sides, and their relationship didn't survive. Now, three years later, they realize it's not quite so easy to get rid of the love they once shared when a chain of events leads them back to each other.

SERIES

you set my world on fire

Basically, it's a continuation of the canon universe, starting during Spring Fling.

Summary for part 1: After getting hit by the bus, Regina is forced to come to terms with something she'd been running away from since she was a kid.

you set my world on fire (Part 1)

there's an old song (i wrote for you) (Part 2)

timeless like you and me (Part 3)

can't help myself (when you get close to me) (Part 4)

say you'll always keep me (Part 5)

you're still the one (Part 6)

uninvited (Part 7)

one that makes me sing (Part 8)

nothing in the world belongs to me (but my love) (Part 9)

birds of a feather (Part 10)

PS: new installments in the future

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW

Please, if you like any of these fics and want more of them, don't only leave kudos on my stuff, leave comments too! I don't care how small those comments are, just please leave some, it means a lot to me <3

[unsanctioned-if]

"Unsanctioned" background introductions

As I get closer to finishing the editing of the three backgrounds available for the MC, I've finally managed to put together a short summary of each one. Alternative, shorter versions of these summaries will be included the game for the player to read over before committing to a background.

These include light spoilers, so I'll post them under the cut in case you'd rather skip it!

The Aristocrat

As devout and loyal servants to the city of Dust and Gold, the Belnac name has remained untainted and unsoiled in the eyes of the public and would remain so still if not for the calamity that happened a century ago.

Among the elite, the sins of your family are nothing more than a shared, painful memory.  A sin many of the aristocracy bear, but no one bears to speak out loud.

But the past is the past, and the future of your house is looking bright. With your older brother Cassius already a Spellweaver, hopes for the youngest Belnac to follow in his footsteps are high.

On the eve of your ninth birthday, seated among the most distinguished subjects of the Crown, your parents announce their plans to send you to the Institute of Arcane Arts, mapping out your future with one ceremonious toast.

How you feel about the matter is a secondary concern when faced with tradition and expectation, but you have witnessed what the favourable gaze of the One can do to a person, and it has left you wondering about, perhaps even fearing, the unspoken horrors of that gaze.

The Scavenger

You’ve worked as a treasure hunter – a glorified scavenger – for near three years, serving a vital role in the group of misfits known in Talzaric’s less prosperous areas as the “Finders”.

With your unreliable line of work and general circumstances, you had never expected a mysterious, wealthy client to contact your group for a very special job: locating the Remnant of a sorcerer long since dead.

In over your heads but beckoned by the promise of riches, you set out on one last journey together and make your way to the treacherous Grimhills to locate the relic and bring it back to the capital. But the promise of gold births greed, and when ensnared in a web of scheming witches, so too does fear risk breaking the bonds of once sworn friends.

The Nomad

Before your name was attached to your person, it had been a whisper on the breeze; a message sent by the gods.

You are a child of the nomadic tribe Reshve – a branch sprawling from the tree of clans called Ytrahan’s Grasp. Your family has been wandering the world ever since the usurpers the settlers named their guardians used the creature known as “the One” to further their own gains.

As followers of the Eterals – the now-imprisoned gods – you have been declared outlaws by the Crown and keep close to the unpredictable forests and swamps that conquer Aíos’ natural world, avoiding larger settlements.

When a seer predicts your future rise to power, you find yourself becoming the main focus of your respected grandmother, Grand Conjurer of your clan. A newfound responsibility settles upon your shoulders; one of many already weighing you down as the eldest of your siblings in the absence of your birth mother. But visions breed uncertainty, and this one in particular pierces the mind of an ambitious and envious younger sister.

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Time Travel Fics

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

✨ Show the authors plenty of love with your comments and kudos on the fics you enjoyed after reading! Likes are lovely, but please reblog to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🕰️ this is the last time i'm leaving without you by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [7K] After saying goodbye to Tim and promising him to not write, Hawk's finds himself in the future, 70 years later. Will everything he learns in 2024 change the past? It totally will.

🕰️ is it over now? by @satelarry | satelarry [18K, WIP] Seeing the love of your life walk away without being able to tell him that you love him has to be one of the worst situations a person can go through. But Hawk decided to fulfill Tim's request, knowing it will be the last.

What happens when he wakes up, 18 years before, with the knowledge of what's going to happen if he makes the same decisions?

Does the ending always stay the same?

Or, the Time Travel AU in which the only thing ruining Hawk's plan is Tim's stubbornness.

🕰️ Again, only better by @madsmeetsmisha | madsmeetsmisha [14K, WIP] Hawk had no idea what was really going on here. All he knew was that he was back in 1954 and a completely distraught Tim was standing outside his door. And he also knew that he certainly wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

🕰️ Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) by @brouill3r | brouiller [17K, WIP] 1987 Hawkins Fuller is full of regrets for the life he's lived, though Tim once told him he regrets nothing. Hawk so wishes he could say the same.

In the still night air of a hotel room, clutching a cracked paperweight to his chest like it's carved of the finest gold, Hawk gets his wish.

Or, a time-travel fix-it fic that nobody asked for.

🕰️ Everything, Everything by tinypurpleghost💠[5K] Hawk wakes up in 1968, and everything is different.

🕰️ Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps It’s Real by drabbleswabbles💠[35K] And then it happened. The metallic screech of the gate, the shuffle of men stepping out beyond the prison walls. And suddenly there he was. His hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it. And his glasses were different. But it was him. Their eyes met. Tim stared at him in wide-eyed shock before recognition melted his features into a confused outrage.

Basically, a fix-it in which Hawk finds himself back in the early 70s.

🕰️ Send Back The World by Anonymous [2K, WIP] There is nothing so bitter as regret. And nothing so sweet as a second chance.

Or, Hawk gets yet another chance to fuck it up again.

🕰️ Til Time Itself Is Through by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [3K] Tim wakes, soft cotton under his cheek, cool silk covering his body. Bright sunlight streams through open windows, making Tim groan and bury his face in his pillow. It smells faintly like Hawk and his aftershave; heady and spicy and masculine. Tim smiles, curling his toes into the smooth silk below them.

Or, Tim Laughlin gets the life he deserves.

🕰️ this time imperfect by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [7K, WIP] 1986. Marcus arrives at Hawk's house and gives him a box. Marcus doesn't know that paperweight in the box is a time traveling device. Will Hawk change anything? We'll see.

🕰️ I Reach for You (And You Bring Me Home) by @misstwentyynine | misstwentyynine [1K, WIP] In 1952, Hawk and Tim meet for the first time at a bar located in the enigmatic paradise of Fire Island, forging a powerful connection that continues to bring them together as their story progresses through space and time.

Or, The San Junipero AU

[n0v4t33z]

The Syndicate - Chapter 2: The Traitor

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a Detective with a promising future in the police department until she's kidnapped by the infamous mafia boss Choi San and from him, she learns the dark secrets her superior has been hiding the whole time so she teams up with him in order to put a stop to it.

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung in the beginning , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s)

I'll update tags as the story progresses

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Please Reblog if you like it! 🔁

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note: So here it is, Chapter 2! I wanted to at least try and post a chapter for San's birthday so this is it! I hope you guys enjoy it!💜

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

“So you’re the infamous Detective that San has kept his eye on for the longest..” Hongjoong asks while fidgeting with the keys in his right hand. “Infamous?” I quietly answer back and he nods silently almost like I was being judged. Something tells me he really doesn't like me I can already tell by the way he's looking at me. “Yeah, ever since you joined Ulwood PD you’ve been costing us a lot of business.” Taken a back from the bluntness I gather my courage and respond but this time a bit more respectful not wanting to start an argument and possibly anger any of them again. "Really? So besides my superior having something San wants that's one of the reasons why you guys decided to kidnap me?" Hongjoong lets out a small exhale from his nose "In a way, yes. That as well but not majorly." I slowly nod "What if I get my superior to make a deal with San to return whatever it is he wants?" Hongjong shakes his head, his earrings making a faint jingling noise "Maybe you should speak to San about that." I look over at Hongjoong who was looking straight ahead while we walk the dimly lit corridor, I didn't get a good look at his face before but he looks fairly young. Definitely shorter than the rest too, except Wooyoung. Luckily enough the silence doesn't last too long as we arrive outside San’s office so I didn't have to deal with the awkwardness much longer, Hongjoong opens the door “Here she is, I will be outside.” He slightly pushes me to sit down and closes the door behind him. San then stares at me for a bit and without breaking eye contact he says “Sit down Detective.” Stay focused, try negotiating with him. I carefully sit down on the leather chair in front of San’s desk while he clicks his pen a few times then sets it down. “First of all, before anything I’d like to apologize about what happened with Wooyoung. He wasn’t supposed to beat you like that.” I roll my eyes “Right, care to explain why you abducted me?” I want to hear this from the man himself and not his "inner circle" goons. San looks over at me with a deadpan expression “You’re ransom Detective. Something that belongs to me is in possession of Ulwood PD, not just that but Captain Lee owes me for all the stuff he’s been putting my family through. He’s no saint, and what a better way to taunt him than taking his secret weapon against us, you.”

Captain Lee? He’s always been a very respectable man and very stern. What does he have to do with the Choi’s and Aurora Syndicate? I look at San slightly suspicious “Captain Lee? Ever since I joined Ulwood PD, he’s been a very good role model of what a Detective should be. What does he have to do with your family?” San looks away almost like he was holding in a laugh then says “Oh come on Detective, can't you read between the lines? I guess he’s been keeping his double life under wraps from everyone in the department.” I glare at San. “What are you trying to say? Captain Lee works for you?” He smirks and slightly nods “Good guess, but it's more like he used to. The man is a crooked cop.” His face then grows serious again and he continues “ He used to work for my father. He’s also the reason my father got murdered. He began to work with a rival mob, The Obsidian Dragon a few years back which led to him giving away my father’s location to those people.”

No way, no fucking way. Captain Lee was one of the organizers for this hit and I’m the one having to suffer for his mistakes? “Why not abduct him? Why was I brought into this?” San pushes his glasses with his middle finger and sits back on his chair “Well, if we kidnap him he’ll be marked as a hero and that’s what I don’t want. I want him to be known as my father’s killer, and what a better way to bring attention to it than when a very infamous and well known Detective is kidnapped and in order to save her his whole team has to slowly unravel how evil and dirty he is. If he doesn’t give in, either way he’ll be seen as a terrible and incompetent person for letting a gifted Detective die in order to save himself.” I slowly clench my fists. This has to be a crude joke.

“I need proof of Captain Lee doing the things you’re claiming. I can’t just take your word for it, I don’t trust you.” San opens the drawer next to his desk and sets a file about an inch and a half thick in front of me “These are photos of him and my family and documents with his handwriting on it. Not to mention there are photos of him meeting up with someone from The Obsidian Dragon” I open the folder and the first thing to catch my attention is a picture of a dinner with presumably the Choi family and next to San’s father is Captain Lee smiling brightly. I squint my eyes to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me then I look over to a financial document with Captain Lee’s signature. I look at a few other photos carefully examining if it was the right person and to my disappointment it was. It’s Captain Lee, I'd recognize his signature anywhere and the man in the pictures looks exactly like him including his golden tooth. I look over at San in complete shock and San smirks and raises his eyebrow “You believe me now?” I slowly nod then I close the file and set it back on San’s desk in disappointment.

“This has to be a misunderstanding, he’s a great person I know so. I’m sure there has to be a reason he did this.” San throws his head back and laughs and says “The man loves money Detective, the difference between us and him is that the majority of us had nothing at one point but desperation to survive while this man has had money and a good life from the beginning. Also, what type of person kills their best friend over money? ” My body runs cold, and my stomach drops “The Phantom was friends with him?” There is a slight hint of disappointment in San’s voice “Yeah, so close I even called him uncle when I was a child.” Oh no, why do I feel bad for this man? When he's the reason Ulwood’s crime rates went up to begin with. I sigh and Sympathetically look at him “Look, I’m so sorry he caused all this pain to you and your family but there’s no reason to keep me here to get back at him. That file you showed me has enough evidence to send him to prison for the rest of his remaining life, I'll do that for you only if you let me go.” San looks at me for a few seconds and he shakes his head “No, i’m sorry.” I scoot up closer to his desk and I put my hand over the file “Please, you can do this the right way instead of possibly ruining your life.” He sits up and leans over the desk close to me and in a very calm voice he says “My life is already ruined Detective, all the things I've done are enough to send me to prison for the rest of my life. The least I should do with the last of my freedom is to destroy the man who killed my father.” I sit there for a while processing his final decision “Well, all I’m hoping is that Captain Lee does the correct thing although now I’m doubting it.” I have a feeling I’m going to die here now. “I sent the ransom note about an hour ago so we’ll have to wait for his answer in maybe a few days.” A few days?! I know for a fact we usually see ransom calls and answer them right away, why is he just going with a ransom note? "Why a ransom note when you can just call?" A smirk appears on his face "It makes it a little more dramatic, it's amusing, Even more knowing how much he's probably freaking out" I scoff and look at the book case to my left. He's such a childish man, it's ridiculous.

Out of nowhere my stomach growls and I clutch my stomach then San curiously looks over at me “Are you hungry?” I quietly nod then he grabs a radio from his desk and says “Hongjoong, can you escort the Detective to the guest room.” Hongjoong sounding a bit confused says “Uh yeah, sure right away.” The door then opens a few seconds later and Hongjoong walks towards me but before he reaches over to grab my arm I take off my badge and set it on San’s desk “Here, I have a feeling I won’t be needing this anymore.” San gives me a slightly confused look then Hongjoong escorts me out.

The walk to the guest room was excruciatingly quiet so I begin to lose myself in my own thoughts until finally we arrive at the guestroom. Hongjoong continues to hold my arm tightly while he opens the door. After opening the door Hongjoong walks me inside the guest room and sits me down on the bed and says “This is escape proof, so don’t even try.” He exits the room, and after hearing the door lock I lay down and begin to silently sob. I don’t want to die here, I want to see my family, I want to fall in love and have a family. I close my eyes and I slowly drift to sleep hoping that the horror I was living is just a dream.

Later, I’m gently nudged awake then I groggily open my eyes and I see Seonghwa holding some food “Hey, San got you some food. He didn’t know if you were allergic to anything so he just went with steamed rice and veggies and for your drink it’s apple juice but in a bottle so you know we didn’t mess with it.” He helps me sit up while I quietly wince in pain trying to sit up “Oh, thank you. Do I get these removed too?” He opens the food and says “I would but I can’t. The only one who can is San, my apologies Detective. I can still feed you though so it’s okay.” I look over to the food then I nod slightly disappointed “I see. Well, since we have to get that familiar with each other with you feeding me and all call me Y/N.” He chuckles and grabs a spoonful of food and feeds it to me “Alright Y/N, my name is Seonghwa but you can just call me Hwa when it’s just us.” Something tells me he's friendlier than the rest here “So Hwa when did you start working here?”

He hesitantly smiles and feeds me another spoonful of food and says “Well, I started working here a little before San’s father passed away. You? When did you start working as a detective?” While I chew I think for a few seconds “3 years this march as an actual detective, I’m honestly still not really used to it though I still have slip ups where I start talking like a civilian.” He opens the apple juice and puts a straw in the bottle “Oh I see, so you’re somewhat still new to the department?” I nod then I take a sip of my juice “Yes, but I guess weirdly enough people at the station no longer see me as the newbie because of the case clearing rate. streak I have" He hums in acknowledgement "I've heard, you're a criminal's worst nightmare." we both quietly chuckle then I ask "So, are you friends with San and all those guys I've seen?” He sets the juice back on the floor “Oh, yes. In a way we’re all friends although sometimes we do get into pretty heated disagreements.” I furrow my brows while focusing on the wall behind Seonghwa.

“So then does that mean I'm going to have to see the one who hit me? Wooyoung I think was his name.” He gently pats my shoulder “Unfortunately you probably are but don’t worry he’s not going to hit you anymore, San got onto him about it. It’s weird because this is the first time San has gotten upset over something like this happening, usually he doesn’t really care when Wooyoung goes around beating the people we’ve kidnapped. Then again this is the first time we’ve kidnapped a cop.” That’s weird I didn’t think he’d even care either, I thought maybe Wooyoung somehow messed up the procedure or something like that. Seonghwa continues “Let's have you finish eating so you can clean up and change clothes." Later, after Seonghwa finishes feeding me he helps me up and says "San got you a really pretty dress so you can wear it after your bath"

Embarrassed, I respond "Wait what? You're going to give me a bath?!" He chuckles and says "No silly, San is going to help you since he's the only one who is able to remove your handcuffs" Confused, I scrunch my nose and say “Why him?” Seonghwa shrugs and gives me a confused face “Honestly, I have no idea that’s just what he told us.” I look down and fidget with my hands then I say "So you're leaving then?" He reaches over and holds both my hands "I'm sorry, but don't worry I'll try coming back as much as I can." I sigh and with a slight disappointed tone in my voice I say "Okay..” He picks up the leftovers and gets up then the door opens behind him. I watch as San enters the room with a few shopping bags. Surprised, Seonghwa looks over at San and says “Oh hey, I was just about to go get you.” San walks over to the bed and sets down the shopping bags and says “Thanks for helping her eat, can you tell Yunho to let me know when something comes up regarding the ransom?” Seonghwa nods and closes the door behind him leaving me alone with San.

I watch him glance at me for a few seconds then sit next to me. “How are you feeling?” Why is he asking me how I feel? This is so weird. I shrug and say “I’m still in pain but I feel way better than I did earlier but I'm sure the bruises will come in tomorrow.” He smiles and says “I’m glad you’re feeling better, also was the food okay? I didn’t know what to get you since I didn’t know if you had food allergies or not.” Is he joking? Why is he asking me if I liked the food or not? Why does he care if I have food allergies? Why is he being so nice? He might be trying to get me to talk by being nice. “Food was good, don't worry.” He looks over at my hand cuffed hands “If I take these off of you do you promise me you won’t try to escape?” I might take a leap of faith and try but without hesitation I respond “I promise.” he uncuffs my hands and I gently massage my wrists and press my lips together forcing a smile. “I never say this to criminals but thank you, for like the food and everything.” He gives me a soft smile and says “Of course, now it’s time for you to get cleaned up and wash off all that blood off of you.” Should I ask him why he’s being so nice? Or is it too soon? Maybe.

I get up and stretch then San stands up next to me and chuckles gently patting my head “Oh wow you’re really short Detective, I've never seen such a short cop before. it’s actually kind of cute. I’m surprised you were even allowed to be in the police academy.” Oh my gosh did he just call me cute? The man is really committing himself to get something out of me. I raise an eyebrow in confusion “Gee, thanks but just in case you didn’t know I can do alot of damage despite my small stature.” He looks down at me and smirks “Yeah I know, which is why I’m the only one who can uncuff you.” If I change the subject maybe he’ll stop being weird. “So where’s the bathroom?” He leads me over to a door next to the entrance “There’s a shower in there but I’ll tell you right now the door has no lock so I can easily check up on you if you get too quiet.” Ew no. What if he’s being a pervert and watches me shower then what? I cross my arms in front of my chest and I say “Fair enough, just don’t be a pervert or….”

We both exchange looks for what feels like forever then he gently lifts my chin with his finger and says in a low voice “Or what Detective?” He’s good. My face gets hot and I swat his hand away from my face “I’ll press charges on you for harassment when I get out of here.” San lets out an amused laugh “Oh, are you really? But can’t I just admire a woman’s beauty?” He proceeds to push his glasses up with his middle finger then winks at me. I give him a disgusted look and walk into the bathroom closing the door behind me then from the other side of the door I say “I bet this is why you don’t have a girlfriend because you’re so weird!” I hear San laughing on the other side of the door and say "I was kidding!" I roll my eyes and get in the shower letting the water completely soak through my hair while I stand in the shower with my eyes closed wondering if what was happening right now was actually happening or a weird figment of my imagination from a breakdown or something. I mean being a cop is not necessarily an easy thing and I'm constantly under excruciating pressure from my superiors. So maybe my mind is making it all up.

After showering, wondering whether I'm in reality or not and occasionally checking the door in fear of San looking at me at my most vulnerable state. When I get out I see a nice robe and put it on. When did this robe get here? Where are my clothes? Did he seriously somehow come in without me noticing? I open the bathroom door and I see San standing next to the door on his phone I then ask “Did you take my clothes?” He nods then turns to look at me “Yep, I did. I bought you some clothes but I don’t know if you’ll like them though I asked my mom what a girl likes to wear and she said a nice casual dress will do.” I ran my fingers through my wet hair trying to comb it out “Oh, okay. I swear if you looked at me in the shower.” He shakes his head and pleadingly responds "I didn't I promise." I need to watch out for him, he's good. Maybe he's lying. He scratches the back of his neck and hands me the shopping bag “I also bought some um… you know underwear and some bras.” I grab the bag slightly embarrassed. What happened to me being a prisoner of the Aurora Syndicate? Where is this headed? Am I going to be sold off or something? “Oh, thank you, I’ll go put this on I'll be right out.” I walk back into the bathroom and close the door and I change into the dress, a beautiful ruffled dark purple chiffon dress with a tie up at the waist. When I step out, San’s lips curl up into a smile “It looks beautif- I mean, it looks great on you.” I nod and I bite my bottom lip to keep me from smiling.

The first time in a year that I get male attention and it’s from one of the most dangerous men in Ulwood. Embarrassingly I’m falling into his trap and it hasn’t even been a whole day, just 16 hours ago I was kidnapped. I have to get it together, this man is just playing tricks on me he doesn’t care about me at all whatsoever. Suddenly San’s radio goes off Slightly startling me while a male's voice says says “San, they know about the Detective and they said if we don’t hand her over right now you’ll have a warrant for your arrest.” Amused, San lets out a chuckle “Tell them the first note for her rescue will be on 398 Barry Ave.” The man then responds “Okay got it.” San walks over to me and pulls out the handcuffs from his pocket and puts them on me “I have to go, but I’ll come back later. In the meanwhile I need you to rest okay? ” I nod then he exits out the room and closes the door behind him then a few seconds later I hear the small click of the door being locked. I let out a sigh and walk over by the door and turn off the lights leaving some sort of night light on and I lay down with my back facing the door. I feel quite tired and the pain medicine Jongho gave me is starting to wear off so I begin to have a million thoughts racing through my head trying to get my mind off of the pain that eventually I fall asleep.

I suddenly wake up to the sound of the door unlocking and opening I felt too tired to turn and check who it was until eventually I feel a gentle nudge on my shoulder "Hey Detective, it's me Jongho I brought you some more pain medicine." He helps me sit up and gives me the painkillers and some water soon after he says “Did that warm shower help you feel a bit better?” I nod “Yes, it actually did but I started to be in pain again right before I fell asleep since the medicine was wearing off” He stipples his fingers and says “Don’t worry, just give it an hour and the medicine will kick back in again. Tomorrow when you wake up is when it will hurt a lot so I’ll come back in the morning to check up on you.” I nod and for a few seconds I pick at my nails then I look at Jongho and I say “San told me about Captain Lee, I told him he would get his revenge the right way with all those documents and pictures stacked up as evidence but he doesn’t want to.” He slightly frowns “Well, Detective you have to remember San and basically everyone here including myself are criminals. What San wants is to humiliate Lee and inflict as much pain as that man did to his father, I’m sure you’d do the same for your family if you ever get the chance right?”

I lower my face and purse my lips. “I mean If I had the amount of evidence San has against Captain Lee I’d go to the police.” His eyes widen for a split second in shock then he recollects himself and goes back to his serious expression “Well, police can only do so much, sometimes the best way to get back at someone who's hurt your family is not necessarily the legal way. I’m sure in the back of your mind you know this even if you don’t want to admit it which is understandable since you’re a detective and you work for the police leading me to believe you fully trust them. You have to remember that some of these cops aren’t clean and half the time they’re just as bad as criminals like us, if not worse.” I gently brush my hand on the soft chiffon ruffles of my dress “Actually despite what you probably think I see Captain Lee differently now, seeing all those pictures and evidence and being the empathetic person that I am I genuinely feel sorry for San. That doesn’t mean that I think what he’s doing is okay because it’s not but I do get where he’s coming from and I understand what you’re trying to get at.”

Before he can answer Jongho’s radio goes off with Wooyoung saying “Hey Jongho where are you?” Jongho grabs his radio and says “I was with the detective giving her medicine, what happened?” Wooyoung answers back with a slight annoyance in his voice “I need you to bring the Detective downstairs, Lee wants to talk to her he’s on the phone with San.” He presses the button to his radio again and with a calm voice Jongho says “Okay I’ll be right there.” He puts his radio back in his jacket’s pocket then he turns to me and says “Let’s go Detective.” He helps me up then he walks me downstairs.

When I enter the dimly lit room filled with lots of monitors, computers, and servers I notice that all of San’s inner circle was present, 2 of which I haven't seen. One had dark brown hair he looks as if he’s around the same height as Mingi except a little bit taller. The other wasn't as tall as the hair dark brown haired male in fact he seemed to be around the same height as Wooyoung and Hongjoong. His was a cool brown shade. He was very handsome looking having the face of a Roman statue with no visible flaw on his face besides the pink birthmark next to his right eye, definitely not taking away from how handsome he looked. Now that I notice I realize how all of San's inner circle is basically handsome young men. This is exactly why they probably get away with as much as they do because they're intimidatingly handsome, they probably don't even need money to keep people quiet. Their looks alone will probably the charm any one of their liking. Jongho walks me over to a single chair by where everyone was huddled. San looks at me briefly then says “She’s here, you have 1 minute with her.” San then hands me the phone and I say “Captain Lee?! Please get me out of here I’m begging you. I’m terrified. I want to go home!” In a worried tone he answers “Detective Y/LN, are you okay? Have they hurt you in any way?” A knot forms in my throat and I say in verge of tears “Um, yeah I’m okay except for a few bruises and a busted lip” As angry as I am with Captain Lee for betraying the police department I need to urge him to get me out of here. I hear silence from the other end of the call then Captain Lee clears his throat “Look Detective, I’m going to try my absolute best to get you out of there, Detective Bang is also working on this to get you out of there as soon as possible too. Don’t listen to anything these dirt bags tell you either, they’re low life criminals who don’t care about anyone but themselves.” I release the knot in my throat and I begin to sob “Please, Captain just get me out of here please, just give them whatever they want! I need to see my mom and my family, I have a life too! Please!”

San puts his finger over his lips to hush me and takes the phone “So now that I proved to you that she’s alive and not in some trash can in an alleyway are you are more keen on cooperating?” Seonghwa walks over to me and helps me calm down while San is still on the phone and chuckles, turning around giving the 7 guys behind him a thumbs up. Captain Lee probably agreed. “I have eyes in every corner of the city Lee, if you don’t follow the requests I leave for you and decide to go your own route there will be consequences.” he hangs up with a huge smirk on his face. “I have him right where I want him, now we just wait until his fellow investigators find out his dirty little secrets.”

San hands the Phone over to Hongjoong and walks over to me giving me a curt smile “Thanks to you Detective, he’s probably scrambling to find a way to rescue the PD’s female prodigy.” He helps me up and says “Yeosang, do me a favor and take her back to the guest room.” He nods and he quietly walks me back upstairs to the guest room while we walk up the stairs I slip on the fabric of my dress and he grabs my arm “Careful.” I quietly thank him and continue to walk in silence then I suddenly grow the courage to at least try and make small talk, maybe he's nice like Jongho and Seonghwa “You’re really quiet, this is the first time I’ve heard you speak.” He continues to look forward in silence then he answers “There’s no reason for me to speak to a cop.” Nope, I was right this guy is ice cold. There’s no use in trying to talk to these people, they straight up hate my guts. “Okay, I’m sorry”

After a long and awkward walk back to the guest room we arrive, he opens it and shoves me in the room with such a strong force that I fall on the hard marble floor on my knees and I wince in pain from the stinging sensation on my knees. I pull up my dress so that I could see my dress, then I look down at my knees and notice both my knees are scraped. I get up and lay down on the bed letting out a long exhausted sigh. “So much for trying to be nice.” I slowly close my eyes. Sleep, eat, wake up. I wonder how many of these I have left before I end up dead in a ditch.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

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[ultimatedetectivequeen]

Update

Hey people! Apologies for disappearing for a while without saying anything. Life has been a struggle, not much else to say. Nothing too serious happened. Just had to take a break to figure some things out. I promise to try to be more open about when I'm taking long breaks in the future.

Anyway, I've got a decent amount of asks to get through that have been sitting in my box for a ridiculous amount of time. So, I've decided to make some answers to them shorter than I have in the past. This is just so that I stop pressuring myself to write an equal amount for each one. Just keep in mind that me not writing as much for your ask as much as another one doesn't at all mean that I didn't like it!

Also, expect an update soon regarding some fun new additions to this blog. I'll probably post it once I clear through most of, if not all, of my ask box.

For now, I've got a few asks ready to go.

[goodnightmemes]

THE TUDORS SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS / (PART ONE)

s01e01 - s01e05

❛ You are my wife. You are not my minister, you are not my chancellor, but my wife. ❜

❛ Will you not visit my bedchamber, as you used to? ❜

❛ Would you do me the honour of letting me wear your favours today? ❜

❛ Not all of the court is as loyal as you. ❜

❛ Why won't you come live at court? ❜

❛ I must urge you, that instead of spending ruinous amounts of money going to war you should spend it rather on the welfare of your people. ❜

❛ I will inform His Majesty in due time. In the meantime, you will say nothing to anybody on pain of death. Do you understand? ❜

❛ When you are no longer able to hide your condition you will be removed to a private place for your lying-in. And there you can give birth to your bastard. ❜

❛ Though I love Your Majesty and am loyal to you in every way...I cannot disguise my distress and unhappiness. ❜

❛ You did well to come to me. But I must warn you, say nothing of this to anyone. ❜

❛ Personally, I would have wished to have seen a greater more powerful man upon the throne. ❜

❛ I have the way and the means to crush the usurper of my throne as one would crush a revolting spider. ❜

❛ If you want to keep the love of a prince, this is what you must do. You must be prepared to give him the thing you most care for in all the world. ❜

❛ Even if he had me, who is to say he would keep me? ❜

❛ There's something deep and dangerous in you. Those eyes of yours are like dark hooks for the soul. ❜

❛ This is indeed a happy day. We have planned many festivities in honour of this most welcome visit. ❜

❛ I plead with you, don't make me marry him. ❜

❛ I'm surprised my brother chose a man without noble blood to represent him. ❜

❛ Poets and women are always free with their hearts, are they not? ❜

❛ You must never ask to see me again. Do you promise? ❜

❛ Never ask of me, and never, if you value your life, speak of me to others. ❜

❛ I had a dream. In my dream, you came to me again and held me in your arms and you whispered that all would be well. ❜

❛ I'll agree to marry him on one condition. When he's dead, which can't be long, I can marry whom I choose. Agreed? ❜

❛ Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems. I love poems. Ravish me with your words. ❜

❛ It causes me such pain and grief to return the gifts you gave. Alas, they are too beautiful and I unworthy to receive them. ❜

❛ How much more wealth does that man want? ❜

❛ I intend to ride again and prove to everyone here that I'm well and unharmed. ❜

❛ Don't tease me. I don't like it. ❜

❛ You must know I desire you with all my heart. ❜

❛ I almost died! Don't you understand? Since that moment, I've done a great deal of thinking. What if I had died? What would I have left? ❜

❛ I have lived too long for pleasure. I never even thought of the future! ❜

❛ Why wasn't I consulted? We are supposed to be allies. ❜

❛ I promise I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else. ❜

❛What have I done to make you treat me like this? What fault have I committed? Tell me. ❜

❛ I am often accused of things that are not my fault, or responsibility. ❜

❛ Some people are always prone to speak evil without knowledge of the truth. I fear they may have poisoned your mind against me. ❜

❛ You are taking my child from me. My child. You are tearing her from me as if you were tearing her from my womb. ❜

❛ I know you're an idealist but you're not stupid. ❜

❛ Be strong, and be true, and one day...One day you will be queen. ❜

❛ I gave you no permission to marry [name], nor would I ever. ❜

❛ I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter. ❜

❛ I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son. ❜

❛ Don't call me "wife." I don't want to be your wife. I hate you. ❜

❛ I don't know if you're really brave or if you're just a fucking fool. ❜

[flashfuture]

I re read Nightwing's new run post Ric arc start to where we are now. And honestly it's not bad. There are some really interesting plot points. I liked the way Blockbuster was brought back and his daughter going with the Amazons. I like the pirate stuff with Bea and I hope that crops up More. She should show up in an Aquaman comic. The humor is very hit or miss but I liked nite-mite had me laughing actually.

I also liked Jon's cameo though I will never ever accept him being a grown man just make him fourteen like Damian. Could even have him drawn just a bit shorter but just as muscular good ol Smallville call back. I also think Heartless is a really good villain. He and his butler give me Black Butler vibes. I am interested to see where they go with Dick breaking his new artificially drug induced fear of heights. I loved the issue where Dick got super powers for a couple hours and made a point to go see Clark that was really nice. I liked them exploring the Circus as a romanticized past for Dick he briefly knew as a little boy but truly being Robin and the ward of a billionaire was his childhood not an on the road carny.

I like the Dawn of DC direction. I like the Infinite Frontier direction with the memories. I even as a silver and bronze age comic fan don't mind the increased familial affection. Dick Grayson to me is being written as a thirty year old man who wants to make peace with the people in his life and start doing what those who came before him have. He is his father's son after all. And Bruce is being given back traits that were long stripped away from him and given to Alfred. I think there is real promise for the future of DC

What I dislike is mainly things that are ignorable and could easily be discarded in the future. Such as the secret bio sister it could be revealed at the end of the arc she was Tony Zucco's all along she's wrong and then she fades out of existence. I hope this is the very last Tony Zucco arc all together anyways I'm sick of him. Dick can't be chasing his parent's fall forever. And if they want to retcon Alfred as being a father figure that's fine I'll just start writing up an analysis of how giving Alfred an active participation role means he was an active participant in everything Batman did and how that foils their image of a well meaning long suffering butler. But anyways besides little things here and there that make me sigh because I think Tom Taylor would rather be writing for Batman I am enjoying this run.

[sasageyolevi]

Hey Brooke!

Saw you're new to the AOT writing community here, so I just wanted to welcome you! Can't wait to see all the amazing stuff you'll create here!

What do you think about 20. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” from the random prompts with Levi?💖

thank you for welcoming me !!! this is such a cute prompt idea <3 ty for the request and hopefully you enjoy it and let me know any feedback !!! sorry if it's pretty short , i didn't have a lot of time to write it and i prefer to make these type of prompts a lil shorter !

content : levi x fem!reader

“if you die , i’m going to kill you”

•••

"levi, please don't leave." you pleaded, grasping on to levi's clothed arm in a final attempt to bargain with him.

"my love, i have to go. you know this." he turned towards your fragile, shaking frame due to the tears coming out of your eyes. "don't cry, baby, please."

he used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your crestfallen face, silently cursing himself out for ever becoming a captain in the first place. you hated when he had to go on missions with his squad, as you knew that they wouldn't return for a few days, with the chance of possibly never returning at all.

thoughts like this haunted your brain every single day, and it was impossible to push them away. even though you knew your husband had been dubbed as "humanity's strongest," there was still that aching feeling in your heart that he may never return from a mission and fall into your arms ever again.

the stakes were even higher now, as you had married levi just a few weeks ago, and although you obviously had loved each other for years before you said "i do," there was a different energy in the atmosphere when you knew he had to leave to fight. it was almost as if the rings on your fingers had created an invisible string between the two of you, tying you to each other.

"levi..." you were gasping for air now and unable to form coherent sentences, on the verge of breaking down as the thoughts piled up in your brain.

"shh, just calm down, baby, i've got you." he held you in his embrace as his head kissed your forehead in an attempt to reassure you.

"i-i don't want you t-to leave me." levi's heart broke at your statement, as he knew that you weren't just talking about the act of him leaving through your front door.

"angel, don't speak like that. i'll be okay, i promise."

"promises can be broken." you sniffled, teary eyes gazing into his own. "you never know."

levi wasn't necessarily the greatest in the world when it came to attempting to comfort someone, everyone knew this. he was at a loss of words - obviously, he didn't want to die - but to be fair, you do never really know what the future holds.

"just..." you trailed off, melancholic silence in the air. "just know that if you die, i'm going to kill you."

he chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood in some way. "i'm sure you could, baby, i don't doubt you."

he pulled your body even closer to his as the tears seeped through onto his shirt, disheveling his appearance slightly. "i'm gonna be okay, alright? i love you so much."

your eyes met as levi's lips met yours, and your hands reached his neck, guiding your bodies as close as they could possibly go. you eventually broke away from the kiss, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you started lovingly into his gray eyes.

"i love you too, captain."

•••

[mad-hunts]

oh. well, i suppose it's headcanon time once more, because i have way too many ideas regarding barton haha — so this may be a bit of a shorter one, but i believe it's equally as important as the one's i've posted thus far, because it really says something about how barton interacts with the world and how his brain works. but let me just start by saying that although barton does appear to have a relatively healthy relationship with food... he does occasionally hoard it, like, subconsciously as a result of the part of his childhood that he spent with wesley ( his biological father ). and this is because he was very much suffering from food insecurity while he was with his bio father. this is because wesley had lost his job as a forester whenever barton was around the age of five due to him missing too many days of work, not only because of how much his bloodthirst was taking over his life, but barton's life as well. he was forcing barton to go along with him on the super twisted ' hunting trips ' that i have talked about before that he unfortunately had to learn to endure with him ( which of course, in actuality, he never should've been forced to do ) about three times a week at one point and so that didn't really leave much time for wesley to attend work as much as he should've been.

and from there, wesley struggled a lot with finding a new job + providing for barton and him, so whenever he had access to food, barton would hoard it underneath his bed or in someplace where he knew that he knew he'd be able to find it because he wasn't sure when he'd be able to eat again. which is... very sad to think about, to say the least. thus, i think in more ways than one, meeting winslow at eight years old was probably the best thing for barton. winslow not only had a stable job, after all, but was a significant improvement in regards to how good of a father figure he was to him. i feel as if he never quite got over this insecurity, however, and that's why he sometimes still does it even till this day; especially since, although barton is NOT a good father overall, there is one thing that he's done right in regard to them and that is making sure that they were always put first in regards to getting to eat something. so hoarding food for him is also kind of a ' safety measure ' in a way as well because he has always been of the mindset that him being hungry is less important than them being hungry because of what wesley put him through as a child.

but yeah, that's just another one of my two-cents about barton's situation and how his mind as a whole works. he will quite literally sacrifice something like that for his children one second, though the next, he is liable to do something that makes it seem like he doesn't care about them at all... which admittedly makes him kind of confusing BUT i think there is reasoning behind this and one of those being that he can definitely feel cognitive empathy towards people, but actually putting himself in their shoes? it's much more difficult for him and sometimes nearly impossible because of how skewed his mind is. i shall expand more upon that another time, however, and what the term actually entails. i hope this didn't bum y'all out too bad but i promise you that i'll try to post more ( semi?? yeah, perhaps that ) fluffy things in the future.

[sergeantsporks]

Little update on how Witch Switch Comic is going to play out now that I've gotten a little more organized with how I'm creating it!

Right now, I have things divided into Seasons, Episodes/Arcs, Parts, and Comics. Seasons are recognizable because of their similarity to canon--season 1 will end with episodes similar to agony of a witch and young blood old souls. Episodes/Arcs vary and are more for my organization than anything you really will need to know about. Further on, the episodes are going to be divided into hopefully about 3 parts each, and each part has the comics, which are 1.1, 1.2, etc. Here's a little look at outline we've mostly covered for an idea on how this is working

My general plan is that I'm going to try to release comics weekly, on Sundays. I can't promise that will always actually happen, but that's the goal. Once I have a "part" out, the next week's comic will just be all the weekly comics put together in one cohesive whole to give me a lil break. I want to take a month hiatus between episodes to build up comics and also just take a break. With my track record of not wanting to keep my mouth shut when I make something new, it might end up shorter than that, but I'm TRYING to aim for a nice long break.

Assuming I actually make it to the end of season 1, I'll probably take a much more extended break. But if I follow this schedule, well, I've got 16 episodes outlined for season 1 with 3 of them listed as "optional," so that's over a year just in post-episode breaks, so that's FAR in the future.

Again, I'm not promising that I'll actually get this far in terms of comics. If I die/lose interest completely and decide I don't want to draw it anymore, I'll post the transcript so you guys have an idea of what the story was gonna be, but I'm staying optimistic for now!

So, yeah, just wanted to give you an idea of what posting/breaks will hopefully look like in the future :D

[givehimthemedicine]

Big(ish) Analysis 4 (it's shorter than the rest I promise)

I have a huge question about gravity, mirrors, and El having seen the Upside Down prior to 1x1

you know how we have some fun in S4 playing with reversed gravity when the gang climbs through Chrissy's gate? I was like "haha, how would they have reconciled the gravity situation if the gang came out through one of the other gates in a wall?" and then I realized - none of the s4 gates were in walls.

Chrissy: ceiling. Fred: ground. Patrick: ground. Max: floor.

if Max had died in either of the places Vecna tried unsuccessfully to kill her, she still would've made another ceiling or floor gate.

Vecna only makes vertical gates. while all the gates we've ever seen previously - El's and the laser ones - were made in walls and therefore horizontal.

is that important? I think it's potentially world-endingly important.

there's sooo much mirror imagery associated with Henry, and it's no coincidence that gates act like mirrors.

imagine a mirror hanging on a wall, if you could step into it - you could walk in there just fine, the room would look backwards, but gravity would remain the same.

hang a mirror on the ceiling, though, and the room flips upside down, reversing gravity. ditto a mirror on the floor. exactly how Chrissy's gate and water gate work. I'll come back to this.

we're shown without a doubt that season 4's Upside Down is literally upside down.

but was The Upside Down upside down in 1-3?

we were given a couple of camera-rotating-upside-down shots, like when Hopper and Joyce start walking around in the UD. but there's much stronger evidence the 1-3 UD was not upside down:

when the gang climbs through the Chrissy gate in 4x7, the gravity reverse takes effect before they've even passed all the way through. Once Robin's center mass hits the midway point, she just falls the rest of the way.

compare to 1x4 and 2x2 when they show us lab guys stepping into the (horizontal) mother gate. if it was upside down in there, we should see both start to fall up before the membrane seals around them. one guy is even attached to a wire that should fly up to the top of the hole as soon as he gravity-flips in there. it never does:

we also saw El and Nancy go through demogorgon portals with no gravity reversal, and Will looking through the portal in his living room wall was rightside up.

unless someone can point out evidence that those rotating shots are more than symbolic due to the name, I'm pretty ready to say 1-3 UD was not depicted as literally gravity-reversed.

and if that's true, it leaves me with a humongous question:

if the Upside Down wasn't upside down until 1986, why did El describe it as upside down in 1983?

El wasn't the one who named The Upside Down, as I hear so often in fanon. all El said was "upside down." she wasn't saying it as a name. Mike ran with it as a name.

listen to the context of the boys' conversation before she says it. she's not interjecting "fellows, allow me to inform you that the place you're discussing is called The Upside Down™."

she just says "upside down" while they're listing adjectives Will had said (cold, dark, empty). her vocabulary is very limited and very literal. she's adding to the description of the place, not naming it.

if she knows what it looks like, it means she's seen it.

the only parade-raining-on answer I can think of is if El's remote viewing somehow shows her that stuff in the UD is flipped. but there was no gravity issue shown when she visited Will and Barb in the UD in the void, so I kinda feel like not? and she can't be referring to the '79 gate because she didn't see through it, and doesn't remember that anyway.

either by piggybacking, time fuckery wherein young El saw the future or past, or by the existence of another gate we don't know about... something... this kid has clearly seen more than we know.

maybe the gravity reverse is key to taking over other worlds

Vecna's 4 gates join, making one humongous X shaped gate into this gravity-reversed world. X gate will undoubtedly want to keep spreading like the mother gate did. what happens to two opposite-gravity worlds when the gate connecting them spreads so big that there's not enough separating them? at some point it will all just *CRUNCH*.

sounds like a great way for one dimension to take over another, no? to absorb it, like Henry absorbing his victims?

Brenner explains it pretty plainly (btw how does he already know this?🤨)

you know all those floating rocks in the yellow UD wasteland? gravity's screwy in there, apparently. it reminds me of the debris of one shattered planet orbiting another after a collision.

is the yellow UD a serial dimension-eater, and those rocks are the remains of whatever other other world it most recently absorbed?

what if that mirrored double-horizon red hellscape was something to do with those two worlds in the process of colliding? and then the yellow-floating-rocks wasteland is the result? we aren't given much idea of how much time passed in between.

utterly spitballing here, absolutely not a hill I'm dying on, but:

what if the wasteland/hellscape UD and UD Hawkins are in fact not the same place remodeled, but two (or three?) worlds or dimensions or whatever that both exist concurrently with RU Hawkins (in addition to however many more, theoretically).

if these are all separate places, theoretically that means you could open gates between any or all combinations of them.

what if you could have a gate open between UD and RU Hawkins (mother gate), AND a gate open between yellow UD and RU Hawkins (Rainbow gate), AND a gate open between yellow UD and UD Hawkins (theoretical gate through which the Mind Flayer got from yellow UD to UD Hawkins. I think it could do that; we saw it reach through the gate to try to get El)

and if all three such gates were open at the same time... could dimension 1 sort of reach through dimension 2 and grab dimension 3 and try to pull it through like a crochet hook?

more about gates and gravity

the 4 UD map must have to wrap around like an Escher drawing to connect gates sandwiching the RU into one single "map" - and I know this is fiction and to a certain degree we just have to play along.

but s4 clearly demonstrated that watergate and Chrissygate connected to the same "map," and so, presumably, did the others. if all these gates lead to the same place, does it make sense to have some gravity flip and others not?

here's all known gates, separated by "batches" to posit that once an initial gate is opened, all the other ones that open at the same time seem to obey the gravity established by it.

Rainbow (Sep 8, '79): horizontal (to be fair, I don't know wtf to call the gravity situation in there.) - Mother (Nov 6, '83 - Nov 5, '84): horizontal. demonstrably rightside up. Classroom (Nov 12, '83): horizontal. probably rightside up. Russia (June 28, '84): horizontal. probably rightside up. - Starcourt (June 28-July 4, '85): horizontal. probably rightside up. - Chrissy (Mar 21, '86): vertical. demonstrably upside down. Fred (whatever. you get it): vertical. probably upside down. Patrick: vertical. demonstrably upside down. Max: vertical. probably upside down.

we haven't been shown normal-gravity and reversed-gravity gates open at the same time.

is this evidence that gravity stays consistent with whichever way the initial gate establishes it? or, evidence of 1-3 UD Hawkins not being the same one as 4 at all? I know some of you think this already and I'd love to hear more evidence on that.

a final crackpot idea to wrap this up - help me on with my straitjacket -

pondering the idea of piggybacking, or time/memory fuckery enabling El to have seen an upside down Upside Down somehow before 1x1.

when have we seen an event in the past that, every other time it happened, created a vertical gate?

and we know gates leave scars. and I know this ceiling is all cracked by '86 just for disrepair reasons but.. (this shot conveniently doesn't show us the exact spot where Virginia died, or "died", but you see my idea)

and you know how gravity is also screwy in the mind lair version of the Creel house, looking like it's in the process of exploding? almost like a mind-gate is spreading and destroying it outwards. I wonder what the origin point could be?

anyway the part of this post I'm really interested in is the El part, so please talk to me about that. the end!

[tarabyte3]

✨Fanfiction updates!✨

I Want You to Show Me Weak

I'm over halfway done with chapter 24! Currently writing the smut half 😏 It's always the part that gives me the most trouble because I've written so much Kino x Reader smut at this point, trying to make things feel fresh is a challenge. But it's a fun challenge 😌 Unfortunately that means the last few chapters will take me longer to write. I AM writing them, though. I promise!

The Devil Makes Us Sin

I'm maaaybe 2/3 of the way through chapter 3? The chapters for this fic will be longer than what I've done for previous works. Chapter 2 was 9.9k words and this one is already over 7k.

Other

I have 3 other Kino pieces on AO3 that I've never posted here: 1. Reprieve - A short Kino centric masturbation one shot, 2. Wake Up, Look Me in the Eyes Again - A Kino x M!Reader one shot, and 3. Wants, Needs, and Clerical Errors - My first Kino x F!Reader fic that is 3 chapters long. I'm going make Tumblr posts for them this week so I can eventually make a fic masterlist.

There was a future smut scene I was writing for TDMUS that I got halfway through before I realized it didn't fit the tone of that fic. But I still loved it (🥵🫠) so I'm turning it into a smutty oneshot. Now you have even more David Robey smut to look forward to!

I have a new Kino x Reader idea that I've been making notes for because it'll be my next multi chapter Kino fic after Show Me Weak (just much shorter length). It's a modern setting AU with Kino as a personal fitness trainer. STAY WITH ME! I SWEAR IT'S WORTH IT, JUST HEAR ME OUT! A month ago I started going to my own personal trainer. He's an awesome dude that I'm comfortable being completely pathetic and whiny around. And I'm enjoying it because he's kicking my ass into shape. However. The man has said things to me to try to motivate me that, when taken out of context, are some of the most casual, unhinged dom things I've ever heard IRL. When I shared them with my discord friends (Next Big Franchise shout out, I love you 💖), it was suggested that I make a Personal Trainer!Kino fic based on just the quotes alone and I latched onto that idea so fuckin hard. Because my PT saying them does absolutely nothing for me (grey ace), but the thought of Kino saying them is jfc hot 🥵. And because I am benevolent, here are a few examples: 🔸"Good, I want you to hurt" 🔸 "Do it again. You're going to keep those thighs open for me." 🔸 "I know you can give me more." 🔸 "Don't lift those hips. I'll hold you down if I have to." So there you have it: Modern AU PT!Kino x Reader that becomes more and more sexually confusing until they're just fucking on a weight bench 😌😇