#and by the end of season 12 he looks up and sees himself as his worst nightmare. and he’s been dragging liv and kathy with him

[sl-ut]

princess of the north

in case i dont end up posting again over the holidays, i just wanna say i hope everyone has a great holiday season and a very very happy new year!!!!

pairing: cregan stark x fem!targtower!pregnant!reader

description: cregan has grown older and happier throughout his years as warden of the north with his beautiful new wife at his side. however, when he married into the royal family, he had not considered how frequently he would need to interact with his in-laws. 

warnings: NO DANCE AU!!! (rhaenyra ascends the throne peacefully), weird blend of book and show timeline, slight description of character (silver hair, purple eyes, that’s it!!!), smut, reader gets pregnant like halfway through, pregnancy sex, oral, piv, SEX IN FRONT OF A FIREPLACE ON A BEARSKIN RUGGGG oml

words: 9.7K

date posted: 10/12/24

The winter had been very forgiving, thank the gods. It had been remarkably short, just under eight years in total, meaning that it had come to a close with plenty of food still in storage and northerners who were more than willing and able to transition into the oncoming summer with ease. 

Winterfell was left in a generally stable state, aside from the fact that there was a greater need for livestock now that they not only had an additional mouth to feed, but also a fully grown dragon who resided in a make-shift dragonpit only a few minutes ride beyond the walls of the castle–a wedding gift that the Lord of Winterfell had prepared in anticipation of his new wife’s arrival. Otherwise, the North seemed to be in greater shape upon the dawn of this new summer than it had in all of Cregan’s years. 

The greatest of Cregan’s accomplishments, of course, was his new wife. At the beginning of the winter, he had not expected that he would be married by the end of it, but with the arrival of Prince Jaeaerys on his official tour of the realm also came his proposal of marriage between Lord Cregan and his own aunt, the youngest daughter of the late King Viserys I and his second wife, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower. He had been hesitant to consider this offer–he’d never met the woman, which was not uncommon for marriages of such high status, but he’d been fortunate enough to have been able to form some sort of friendship with his late wife prior to their union. Jace had brought along with him the terms offered by his mother, in her own hand, of course, as well as a portrait of the woman in question. 

Cregan was not above admitting how taken he’d been with the sight of the princess, even if it were only a recreation of her beauty on canvas. He’d heard of her beauty before, it was rumoured around the realm, but seeing it was entirely different, a sort of beauty he could not have imagined on his own.

“Tell me, my prince,” Cregan asked him, hardly drawing his crystal blue gaze away from the portrait, “you are her blood and have grown up with the princess, is this painting to her likeness?”

Jacaerys smirked, “Of course, Lord Stark. My aunt is known to be one of the most beautiful women ever to live.”

Cregan pursed his lips. He was aware of the strange customs of the Targaryens, having married brother to sister and uncle to niece for generations. Jacaerys could be speaking the truth, for he himself could hold some sort of affection for his aunt, but Cregan did not suspect as such. Intead, his greater question was whether Jacaerys could be lying to him out of political gain; as his mother’s envoy, it would do him no good to suggest that the artist had not accurately painted her. Her looks were of no concern to him, but he valued honour and truth over all else. If they were attempting to attract him to the deal by portraying the princess as such a beauty over anything else, he would be personally insulted to discover that he’d been lied to, a snub from the royal family would not be taken kindly by House Stark. 

“What say you?” Cregan turned to the group of men standing just to the left of the prince, all who seemed alarmed at Lord Stark’s attention being turned to them, “How do each of you vouch for the princess?”

The men, one at a time, attested to the princess’s beauty until he stood before the smallest and visibly youngest of the men.

“And you, lad?” 

“I’m afraid the portrait fails to depict the princess, milord,” The boy grew rosy in the cheeks as he imagined the princess in his mind, eyes drawing towards the portrait, “That is her, yes, but only as close as the Master Holbein could have made it, for I do not think it possible to recreate such beauty. She is gifted by the gods, surely, milord, both in beauty and manner. She is kind, brings food and toys to orphans in Flea Bottom and ev’rything, milord.”

Cregan, taken aback by the answer from the youngest boy, turned back to Prince Jacaerys, who seemed equally as surprised as he did pleased with the answers of his men.

“This is true, milord,” Jace said, “the princess is known among the people for her generosity, among her other talents and traits. It cannot be denied that her mother, the Queen Dowager, was not fond of my family, nor us of her, but the princess was raised better than any of us, I would say. Take the night to think on it, I would hope to send word to the queen before I leave Winterfell at noon.”

Cregan did as instructed, thinking on it long and hard. Her beauty had been their main selling point, something that could not be denied from the portrait sent of her. Lord Stark had half a mind to hang it upon the mantle in his bedchambers whether he takes her to wife or not, but it was not her beauty that had truly swayed his decision. Instead, he thought over the young lad’s words; a southern lady scarcely thrives in the North, a nation nearly as large on its own as all of the remaining six kingdoms put together. The weather was harsh, and the people were harsher, something he could not imagine a Targaryen princess handling well. However, he’d heard of Alicent Hightower’s assertiveness and ability to lead while her husband was incapable and Rhaenyra was in Dragonstone. If what Jacaerys had told him was true, the princess would be dutiful and loyal, and according to the prince’s men, kind beyond words. Beauty may have factored into his decision on a personal level, but he also met the prince the next morning with his acceptance mostly on the basis that he believed that the princess would be wholly capable of helping him rule the North.

He wrote to her a week after Jacaerys departed from Winterfell, certain that the news would have already arrived in the capitol and she would already be aware of their arrangement. He would have little time between her arrival in the north and their wedding to meet with her in private, so this was his best hope. He was pleased to receive a raven in return only three days later, neat handwriting befitting a princess scrawled across the parchment. It was not much, but Cregan was able to learn some things about her through the letters, making it seem like he was less-so marrying a stranger and more as if she were a distant friend. 

The month following, the princess would depart from King’s Landing in a procession he was told seemed a mile long. He waited with anticipation, Winterfell in a flurry of servants and guards to prepare the castle to house the royal family and their household, as well as for the wedding itself, and only one more month would pass before his bride had arrived within the walls of Winterfell.

Cregan had bowed respectfully to the Queen Dowager as she stepped out of her wheelhouse, then to the two silver-haired princes who arrived on their steeds. His eyes scanned the growing crowd for any sight of his betrothed, finally catching sight of her as she took the hand of a Dornish white cloak to balance herself as she exited the wheelhouse, a pretty white fur-lined cloak wrapped around her shoulders, almost blending into the pale blonde of her hair. She was, indeed, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had traditional Valyrian looks, but also held an aura of softness. 

She was nervous as she curtsied before her, but seemed happy enough with his appearance and manners as he greeted her with a kiss to her leather-gloved knuckle. The moment was broken apart by her mother’s level tone, requesting to be brought to her chambers for some rest before supper. That evening Cregan found the portrait of the princess that he’d received months earlier and personally hung it above the mantle in his bedchambers. He thought it was safe to say he was smitten.

The princess appeared bashful in his presence, though he was partially certain that her discomfort was brought on by her ever-present family, each looming nearby as if waiting to intercept his attempts of conversation with his betrothed. He could not decide who he had grown to loathe the most; Aegon had already drank a generous portion of Winterfell’s wine cellars even before the wedding, and often joined the conversation with the goal to tease his sister and see her shrink in embarrassment; Aemond was constantly looking to best anyone in his path, and seemed almost possessive over his sister’s attention; her mother had hardly allowed them a moment alone, constantly insisting on supervising any time that he would invite her for any sort of activity, or set one of her brothers after them instead. Alicent had a habit of speaking for her daughter, meaning that Cregan had no opportunity to truly know her while her mother was present, while her brothers made it impossible to even speak to one another at all. 

He was finally glad on their wedding night, when he’d arranged the head table to be broken into three, leaving the happy couple to sit above the rest and finally receive some alone time. She had been radiant in her gown of white furs and fleeces, meeting him beneath the weirwood tree with her eldest brother at her side to give her away. He’d been glad to tear away the cloak of red and black, intricately interwoven into a field of green and gold at the bottom–it would be unlike Alicent Hightower to allow her children to wear the Rhaenyra’s colours without her own as well. It would be hard to tell whether she looked prettier in the harsh colours of her maiden cloak or in the dull ones of his own, but he couldn’t help but note how greys and blues suited her better than he could have imagined. 

He could tell her family was less than pleased with this arrangement, making an effort to step in for every miniscule matter that caught their attention. Cregan watched her from the corner of her eye as she shakily took a long drink from her cup. He finally found time to chat with his wife, slowly watching in awe as her walls slowly began to come down as she found herself giggling along with him and whispering into his ear. 

“What of the leftovers?” She’d asked, breaking their previous conversation topic.

“Leftovers?” Cregan repeated.

She nodded, staring at him with wide eyes expectantly, “The food. There will be plenty of leftovers–they should be brought to the nearest towns.”

“Is that a command, princess?” 

She appeared bashful at his response, walls slowly building back up around her, “I-I- My apologies, Lord Stark, I–”

He grinned at her playfully, his large palm cupping her cheek affectionately, “If you wish it, you shall have it. I intend to make you very happy, my love.”

She smiled, her beauty shining through even stronger as she became more and more comfortable around him, “Thank you, husband.”

Cregan pushed himself to stand, the sound of his chair pushing back cutting through the chatter and music and laughter filling his hall, all eyes turning to him expectantly. 

“My lady wife has made her first official command as Lady of Winterfell,” his voice carried through the hall with stern ease, and the attention of the crows quickly turned to her, “Lady Stark has decided that all leftovers from our wedding feast will be donated to the people of Winterstown.”

The crowd had been quick to applaud, deafening cheers throughout the great hall, northerners seemingly pleased with her decision or, at the very least, just excited to have another reason to be celebrating. He caught the glance she sent to her mother, and the happy grin that covered her face as the Dowager Queen sent her a sign of approval. His lady wife was kind, and sweet, and he was certain that, once she gained her footing in the North, would serve as a strong and dutiful Lady of Winterfell, all of which he muttered into her ear as he had her for the very first time that night. 

Three years would pass, he’d been right to assume such things of his wife. He’d quickly discovered that she was able to thrive without the looming shadow of her mother and brothers. She had been slow to find her footing in the beginning, some of his bannermen even questioning his choice in wife, but she was determined to prove them wrong, and in doing so, warmed Cregan’s heart even more. 

They’d discussed children in the past, and both had decided that they were happy enough with Cregan’s son from his previous marriage for the time being. They were not trying, but they were also not not trying, which is how she found herself swelling with her first child just as winter came to an end. Her husband had been insatiable in their first year of marriage, but once he knew that she carried his child in her belly, there was scarcely anything that could stop him from having her each and every night. 

Summer brought a homier feeling to Winterfell. People were not quite so afraid or negative as the desolate conditions faded away. Summer in the North was nothing compared to the many summers she had spent in King’s Landing, where she had once enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin, exposed beneath her more revealing gowns than those she was able to wear in the North; the lords of the North had criticised her choice in dresses early on in her marriage, and she had no doubt that their wives spoke harshly about her in her absence. She was by far the youngest of them, and was also the only one who could afford to wear such fine silks layered over her thick fleece and fur underdresses. Cregan knew better than to try and argue against his wife’s will–Lady Stark or not, she was a Targaryen princess through and through, and now that he had helped her build up her confidence, there was no way he was about to take that away from her (especially when she looked so so beautiful). She was thankful that she was able to cut down on the layers she needed now that the weather had transitioned from inhospitable to frigid, though she knew it was coming time to transition her wardrobe as well now that her breasts and belly were beginning to swell. 

The change in season also brought a wave of new duties. Winter was undoubtedly the most difficult and busy season for the lord and lady of Winterfell, but the transition to summer also brought the beginning of the agricultural season. Farmers and fishermen alike flocked to Winterfell to speak their needs and wants to their liege lord and lady, and Cregan found himself busy with attending to the replenishment of all of the North’s resources for Winterfell, all of his bannermen, the Wall, and all of the towns in the North. He’d made his wife agree to take a lesser load of duties now that she was expecting, dealing with issues within their own household so he could instead focus on bearing the burdens of the North all on his own, though this meant there was less and less time that they were able to spend together. 

Each morning, Lady Stark was awake and on the move early enough to meet with the maester and stewards and advisors, sharing no more than a few sweet words and touches with her husband as he watched her dress before she was out the door. They would see each other in passing throughout the day, sharing loving glances across the courtyard as they attended their duties and occasionally catching each other in the corridors, and she was normally in a deep slumber by the time he came to her chambers every night. Both of them were growing restless in their time apart, especially with her ladyship’s heightened emotions and hormones. 

She had just finished speaking with the mistress of the orphanage in Winterstown when the maester came to her, a neatly folded piece of parchment in hand that bore her mother’s seal. She smiled to herself as she brushed her thumb over the thick spot of green wax, glad to have a response for her most recent letter to her mother to deliver the news of her pregnancy, along with a request for some new silks to be sent in order to accommodate her changing body. Breaking the seal, she scanned over the letter with her eyes, a small gasp leaving her mouth as she read over her mother’s words.

“My lady?” Maester Elryn asked, concern evident on his wrinkled features, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she smiled tightly at him, “My apologies for my reaction. Could you ask Lord Stark to come to me when he is free?”

“Of course, my lady. Anything else?”

“That is all, thank you, Maester Elryn.”

Cregan came to her two hours later, finding her seated at the small desk in the corner of her chambers. He paused to drink in the way she looked, having scarcely seen his wife for more than a moment all day. Her body was changing in the most glorious ways possible, and the bodices of her gowns were growing even tighter than before, her breasts threatening to spill over the neckline with every breath, and her belly growing firmer and rounder to accommodate his child. His smile widened as she turned to glance over her shoulder, her eyes softening as she finally took note of her husband’s figure in the doorway.

“You called, wife?”

“My love,” she greeted, pushing herself to stand with a gentle hand cradling her barely-there bump, “It seems it has been forever.”

His heart thumped against his ribcage at her action, chest growing warm at the sight of her maternal instincts already kicking in before she had even passed through her first few months 

He closed the door behind him, crossing the room to meet her before she was able to move too far. His palm cupped her cheek, the other finding its place over her own against her belly, “Longer than forever to me.”

She grinned, leaning up to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips, giggling to herself as he chased after her and grunted as she pulled away. He pressed small kisses to her cheeks, across the curve of her jaw, and down the column of her neck, leaving small nips in his wake. His wife pushed at his chest helplessly as she continued to laugh, the soft growth of hair along his own jaw tickling her with every brush of his lips on her skin. 

“I called you up here because I needed to speak with you,” she whispered to him, body slowly relaxing against him as she sank into his embrace.

“Speak, then,” he ordered, thick fingers tugging at the laces of her dress.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at his antics, “I wrote to my mother a few nights ago, I need silk for new dresses. I’m sure you’ve noticed that my own are growing rather…tight.”

His mouth dropped to nip at the bulging flesh of her breast peeking over the neckline of her gown, “I certainly have.”

Her head tilted back, letting both a laugh and a breathy moan at her husband’s attack on her chest as he quickly laid her back on the bed, “She has written back to me. She says I shall have as much silk in as many colours as I wish.”

Cregan hummed in response, quickly peeling the layers of her gown away until she was left in only her thin white shift, her words going ignored as he tugged and pulled at her clothing until she was bare before him. He stared down at her, running his hand over his jaw as his eyes trailed over her breasts, heaving and swelling with milk, then down over her small bump, and finally to the place where her thighs clenched together. 

She pushed herself up to sit before him, her own hands reaching out to tug at his clothing. He was quick to help her, shucking off his layers and boots until he stood before her in only his heavy leather breeches. His wife grinned up at him, pressing a gentle kiss against his own belly, a layer of soft flesh over his firm, almost inconspicuous muscle. 

He pushed at her shoulder, chuckling as the mattress bounced beneath her as she was laid back again. He crawled over her, returning to mouthing over her neck, over her shoulders, and finally coming across her breasts.

“She says she will deliver them personally,” she uttered, whining in protest as he paused, pulling back to focus directly at her face. 

“Personally,” He repeated, more for his own sake than a question of clarification, “your mother intends to come to Winterfell.”

She pouted at him, fingers carding through his long hair as she attempted to soften him to the news, “She wishes to be here for the birth. I know she can be…difficult, but it would bring me comfort to have her with me as I bring our firstborn into the world.”

He sighed, his head falling into her shoulder, “If this is what you wish, then this is what you shall have. 

She smiled, remembering when he spoke the same words to her on their wedding night. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, winding her legs around his hips and hugging her tightly to her chest. 

“Thank you,” she smiled at him as he finally pushed himself up to gaze down at her once again, “my mother can be difficult, as I said, but I wish for her to know her grandchildren, as she does my niece and nephews. I promise you, she will be on her best behaviour.”

“I believe you,” He pressed a kiss to her lips, mumbling against her, “but I must ask that we do not speak any more of your mother at the present. I do not think she would appreciate what I plan to do to you.”

Cregan did not allow her another moment of peace before his kisses grew in intensity, tongue intertwining with her own while his meaty palms pulled her legs further apart and began to rock his hips into hers. He smirked at the whine that escaped her throat, pressing himself further into her.

“Cregan–” 

“I have missed you, my love,” he moaned against her lips, “you cannot possibly believe how much I have been longing for you.”

She chuckled, “I think I can. The maester told me pregnancy can bring on many side effects; discomfort, fatigue, desire…”

Cregan pulled back for a moment, “Should I be concerned about these conversations you have been having with Maester Elryn?”

She scoffed, “You are far too jealous for your own good, my love.”

“You might be too, if you were married to the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms–nay, the world.”

“Flatterer.”

“Can it be called flattery if it is the truth?” Cregan pushed himself to kneel between her legs, palms continuing to push her thighs upward to bare her completely to him. He let out a desperate groan as his eyes settled on her core, barely hidden beneath a neat patch of silver hair, “gods, have you ever been this wet?”

She snorted, raising her leg to press her foot flat to his chest, “It is the pregnancy, as I said.”

His long fingers wrapped around her foot, tugging it up to press his lips against the slope of her ankle, “Then perhaps I should keep you like this, eh? Would you like for your lord husband to fill you with his child, again and again?”

“I am already with child, my love,” she smiled at him, drawing a deep breath from his throat, “I’m afraid you will have to wait a few moons longer.”

“And I will spend every second I have with you perfecting the craft then.”

She sighed in relief as he finally reached between her thighs, fingers catching against her slick hole.

“Cregan, please,” she whimpered, “do something, anything.”

“Anything?” He asked, breathlessly, his own chest heaving in anticipation as she nodded excitedly. 

A loud gasp tore from her lips as he finally sunk his fingers into her, her wetness audible to them both as he began moving with slow but purposeful thrusts. His thumb settled on her sensitive bud, making slow, tight circles over the swollen bud, his free hand gliding up from her thigh to tug at her breasts. Her hips rocked in sync with his every movement of his thick fingers, stilling as another one easily slipped inside.

“My love,” she panted, “e-enough, I need you.”

He quirked one of his thick brows at her words, “Should I not prepare you, my heart?”

“I am pregnant with your child, and as we can both tell, I am more than prepared.”

Cregan snorted out a laugh, withdrawing his fingers with a small whine from his wife, “How should you have me then, wife?”

Lady Stark smirked to herself, legs wrapping around his back and forcing him to fold over her, “Take me as you did on our wedding night, only you do not need to be so gentle with me.”

He slipped inside of her easily, a strained hiss sliding between his teeth while her own teeth sunk into his shoulder. Cregan did indeed take her like he had on their wedding night, but against her wishes, was almost as gentle as he had been, out of respect for his child’s personal space, as he had muttered to her. In truth, he simply wanted to take his time with her as he pulled her apart bit by bit, not wanting to rush their first time lying together in the few weeks since summer had come. 

When they were finished, he remained inside of her for as long as he could, but the warmth of her and the air around them was far too much. His wife, despite the progress she’d made in the years of their marriage, was a southern woman and despised how frigid the castle could be, earning herself the warmest room in Winterfell and a required constant upkeep of her hearth. Cregan did not mind coming to his wife’s chamber when she needed him throughout the day or early evening, but there was a reason that they’d made a habit of sleeping in his personal chambers each night, where the air was cooler but he was able to keep her warm at night. He carefully pulled away, meeting her for a final kiss before he peeled himself off of the bed, slowly strutting across the room to haul the window open and feel the cool summer air against his burning flesh. 

She watched him through hooded eyes, gaze raking down his muscular back, over his plump ass, and down his thick legs. She pursed her lips, pulling one of the heavy furs around her shoulders as she padded across the stone floor to wrap herself around him from behind, fingers hooking together around his belly as her bare chest pressed to his back. After a moment, one of his hands came over to cover her own as she pressed her lips to his shoulder blade. 

“My mother wrote that she expects to be here in two moons,” she murmured against his warm skin, “I should begin preparations for them on the morrow.”

Cregan hummed, eyes scanning over the horizon for a moment before he comprehended her words, “Them. How many attendants does she plan to bring with her?”

He felt his wife tense behind him, “About that…”

Two moons later Cregan found himself standing tall in his own courtyard, jaw set as a procession of horses and wheelhouses began to file through the front gate of his ancestral home. He’d been a touch angry with his wife when she had finally revealed to him that it was not only her mother coming, but rather the entire royal family; the queen, her king consort, and all of their children; the dowager queen, the remaining four of her children, as well as Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena’s three children. Winterfell was about to be overrun with heads of silver hair, something Cregan had hoped would only happen as a result of his wife’s genes overcoming his own among their children. 

At his side, his wife nervously chewed her bottom lip–a nasty habit he’d grown to detest after she’d drawn blood one night. He knew exactly how her family could be from their short stay during their wedding festivities, and the way that her mother and two older brothers alone were able to affect her, let alone the entire living Targaryen dynasty. 

On her other side stood young Rickon, gripping her hand tightly as he struggled to compose himself. The boy was only six years old, but he already seemed to understand the importance of his role as the heir to Winterfell. He’d taken to his stepmother rather quickly, having been an infant when the fever took his own mother. He’d been in need of a maternal figure in his life, and her presence in Winterfell had done nothing but draw father and son closer together with every family supper and breakfast she had insisted on over the years. Seeing her welcome his son into her heart so openly only further pressed Cregan’s instincts to bring their own children into the world, wishing for nothing more than to give his boy dozens of siblings for him to play with. 

The procession finally came to a halt just as two large, intricately carved wheelhouses entered the gates, flanked by the king consort and all of the elder princes on their horses. Lady Stark’s nerves only heightened at the sight of the silver-haired men, particularly her elder brothers who almost immediately turned their gaze her way. The queen soon climbed out of her wheelhouse, followed by her own litter of children, Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya. The second wheelhouse opened, producing Dowager Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena and her own children Jahaera, Jahaerys, and Maegor. 

The queen came before them, regal as ever in her red cloak lined with black fur. She watched stoically as the three bowed before her. 

“The North is yours, Your Grace,” Cregan spoke loud and true, “my family and I are honoured to host you and your family in Winterfell.”

“Many thanks, Lord Stark. I commend you on leading the North through yet another winter,” a smirk tugged at her lips as her eyes turned to his wife, who lowered into another curtsy under her stare, “I hear that Lady Stark has taken to her role quite well. I believe motherhood suits you, sister.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Stark nodded in thanks. 

The next line of Targaryens filtered through the short lineup of Starks, first Daemon, who scarcely offered any of them a second glance (aside from his niece, who he stared at for a moment too long in Cregan’s opinion). Prince Jacaerys greeted Cregan like an old friend, clapping him on the shoulder heartily while he offered his aunt a polite hug, his younger brothers following, though with less familiarity. 

Then came her mother, who hardly offered Lord Stark a moment of her time before she began fawning over her daughter, hugging her tightly before pulling away and pawing at her swollen belly through her layers of fur. A tear escaped the red-haired woman’s eye as she pressed a sweet kiss to Lady Stark’s cheek, then offered a greeting to sweet Rickon, who had shuffled closer to his stepmother in his nervousness. Aegon skipped over Lord Stark altogether, though he certainly was not complaining as he could smell the stench of wine radiating from the eldest prince even before noon, throwing himself onto his sister. She’d stumbled in her attempt to catch him, sending her husband a warning glance as he moved to rip him away from her. Aemond, at least, was more courteous, offering Cregan a polite greeting and kissing his sister gently on the forehead. Helaena was soon to follow, her greeting to Cregan leaving him with a puzzled look as she moved on to place her palm to her sister’s cheek.

“I am so happy to see you, sister,” Lady Stark’s eyes welled with tears. Cregan had been aware of how disappointed his wife had been when her sister had not been able to travel with her for their wedding, but she had not blamed her for choosing to stay behind while she was in her sixth moon of pregnancy, not to mention the poor state of her mind.

Daeron was the most reserved of his good-siblings, showing both Lord and Lady Stark his respect, though he had no personal relation with either. He’d spent most of his childhood in Oldtown under the care of his grandsire’s brother, the Lord of Oldtown, and his own uncle Gwayne. He’d been rather hesitant to even return to King’s Landing after being away for so long; his own mother was a mere stranger, and his siblings had gone on to marry and produce their own children without even a second thought of their youngest brother. 

Winterfell’s hall was overflowing with Targaryens and those who served them. Cregan could hardly recognize any of the faces at the tables nearest to his own, his men being pushed farther back into the hall to accommodate the royal family. He, himself, had even been pushed one seat to the right to offer the queen the highest seat in the hall. He was not pleased to be doing this, far too used to southerners coming to the North with such entitlement, but he would take the treatment silently for the sake of his dear wife, who had been so excited for the arrival of her family and had been overtaken by anxiety of ensuring the visit went well. 

She sat next to him, dressed in a fine silk gown (new, a design brought by her mother), a deep emerald with golden stitching across the bodice and around the cuffs. Cregan hissed through his teeth when his wife entered the hall, a happy grin on her lips as she cradled her round belly over the dress of her mother’s house rather than her own, though he was eager to greet her and accept her gleeful kiss on the cheek, and he was glad enough to see that her hair had been braided among the stems of various flowers, all of which being indigenous only to the North. Her mother could try with all of her might to try and hold tight to her daughter’s familial tether to the South, but Cregan knew his wife had transformed into a woman of the North–she was no longer simply a Targaryen princess, a dragonrider, she was also his wife, Lady of Winterfell, and mother of his children. 

It never escaped Cregan’s watchful stare everytime the Dowager Queen gripped her daughter’s arm when her attention was not focused solely on her, or how she forced a smile each time he joined their conversation at all. If the woman had not been his wife’s mother, he would have gladly warded her away from his wife’s personal space. He understood well enough that his wife was bound to miss her family, especially her mother and sister, but he was afraid to see her begin to slip back into her shell, which had taken him a considerable amount of effort and care to bring her out from in the first place. 

He was quickly tiring from the responsibility of hosting an entire flock of Targaryen princes, all of whom considered themselves above the northerners and their laws, customs, and expectations. They most often gathered in the training yards, each more eager to prove themselves over the northerners and each other than the last, except for Aegon, of course, who would rather spend the mornings in his chambers before he would disappear into Wintertown, most likely gone to spend the rest of the afternoon in the only brothel within twenty miles of Winterfell. 

Throughout the two weeks to follow, they had barely found a moment to themselves that was not in the early hours of the morn or when the castle is alight with only the light emitted from torches and the moon itself, where Lady Stark was usually so worn out that she had barely enough energy to cuddle into her husband’s side and share a handful of words before her snoring would reach his ears. He made an effort to seek her out when he was granted a brief moment away from his duties, but there was hardly a moment when she could be found without at least one member of her kin at her side; in the nursery with her mother and sister, discussing her duties with the queen, reading with Aemond in the library, or comforting Aegon amidst another bout of alcohol-induced sickness. 

The one moment he did find her alone in her personal study, not wasting a single moment before he was hoisting her into his arms and kissing her breathless. He’d been pleased to find that she had no fight in her, easily melting into his embrace and winding her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as small mewls of pleasure vibrated against his mouth. He’d almost forgotten that the door to the study had been left ajar, making his good-mother’s entrance even more silent, though he likely wouldn’t have noticed even if she had knocked, fully taken with his wife’s affection. 

“Ehem.”

“Mother,” Lady Stark pushed away from her husband, face still with shock and, quite evidently, embarrassment, “I, we did not hear you come in.”

“Yes, as I could see.”

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Cregan nodded to the woman, though his tone was laced with his annoyance, “I’m afraid you’ve been subjected to a moment of weakness.”

“Nonsense,” Alicent’s lips tightened into a strained smile, a touch of tenderness on her face, “it comforts me to know that my daughter is cherished and loved, even so far away. We are not all so lucky to find love in these circumstances.”

His wife rounded the desk, meeting her mother with a tight embrace. For a moment, he felt a pang of sympathy for the red haired woman–it was true, most marriages of such caliber did not afford the couple any form of affection, and he was more than aware of the fortune that had fallen into his lap that day that Prince Jacaerys landed at his gate. The moment came to a crashing end all-too-soon as his good-mother once again dragged his wife away from him, not to be seen again until she was deep asleep in their shared bed.

He’d arranged for a hunt during the visit of the royal family, where he was forced to play the peacekeeper between the queen’s sons and their uncles, all while keeping his eyes peeled for the prize he’d been hoping for; his wife had mentioned more than once that she wanted to find the perfect blanket to gift to their first child, one that can be used again and again with each babe they brought into the world, so it seemed only fitting to him that he be the one to bring her the pelt. 

It would be weeks before the warmth in his chest subsided after witnessing her grin and laughter as he presented it to her, two rabbits of a similar white and brown pattern, drawing her away from the large elk that had been brought in for their supper that night. It was a brief moment of privacy amongst the crowd, where she curled her fingers beneath the neckline of his leather doublet and dragged him down to her height, pushing a soft kiss to his wind-bitten cheek, though he was thankful for every moment of it. Her mother stepped in a moment later, grasping her daughter’s hand and willing her to join her in the nursery, where she could continue to preach her wisdom and advice for the soon-to-be mother, though Cregan hoped his wife was smart enough to take it with a grain of salt. 

He’d spent the rest of the day both tending to his duties, which have seemingly doubled since the arrival of his wife’s kin, and also offering a hand in preparing the elk when he had a chance; his cooks could do wonders with elk meat, but the kitchen maids often made a fuss when such large animals were brought to whole or at least without being skinned first. He had barely even spared a moment to clean himself and change clothes before supper.

When he arrived in the dining hall, a smaller yet more formal area where he hoped he, his wife, and their many children would all dine together whenever they could. He was, however, miffed to discover the dining hall filled with princes and princesses and queens alike, only two seats left empty–his own, and his wife’s. 

His immediate thought was that perhaps she was still readying herself, perhaps she had gotten carried away in the nursery with her mother, and she would be there soon enough. Then, his eyes fell upon the red-haired woman a few seats from his own. 

He cleared his throat, drawing silence across his hall, “My apologies, I expect Lady Stark in only a moment.”

Alicent furrowed her brow, directing her words to the rest of the royal family rather than to Lord Stark, “I’m afraid she will not be joining us tonight.”

Cregan raised his own brow, “Why not?”

Alicent’s gaze flickered to his own, “She was unwell this evening–a pain many women know while carrying their children, all she needs is rest.”

“And why was I not made aware of this at once?” Lord Stark felt his blood beginning to boil.

She looked somewhat taken aback, “These pains are normal, they are expected for how far along she is. My daughter–”

Cregan’s heavy palm landed flat on the wooden tabletop, “My wife is my main concern. Any news concerning her or my children should and will be brought to me at once.” 

Alicent pursed her lips, appearing to have a few words of choice for her daughter’s husband, though he turned his attention to the queen opposite him on the other end of the long table and looked equally as surprised and amused at the altercation as she sipped her wine.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” he pushed himself up to his full height, “forgive my absence this evening, but if my wife is unwell I would prefer to be at her side.”

Rhaenyra smirked at him, nodding her head at him, “But of course, Lord Stark. I am honoured that you take such care of my sister. After all, family is everything, is it not?”

He ignored the way that her words seemed to have been aimed at the red-haired woman, who had slouched back into her own seat as a soft pink tinged at the apples of her cheeks, instead nodding at the queen and fleeing the room at once, his hurried and heavy footfalls carrying him through the castle and up to his wife’s personal chambers. He was disgruntled to find that they were empty, save for a servant girl who had been tending to the hearth and directed him to his own chambers.

The hinges creaked as he pushed his way inside, finding two handmaidens hovering worriedly over his wife as she hunched over on her hands and knees atop the plush bear-skin rug, back arched upwards like he’d only seen done by a cat. The two servants froze at the sight of the broad figure crossing the threshold.

“Lord Stark,” one of them rushed to him, “Lady Stark, she is alright, but–”

“Alright?” He scoffed, “She is on the floor in pain, she does not look alright.”

“Cregan,” Lady Stark glared up at him, voice strained with discomfort, “do not speak to my ladies like that.”

He let out a deep sigh, offering the servant a quiet but genuine apology, “Now please, just tell me what is wrong with her, and what I can do to help. Should I call a maester?”

The servant fought a soft smile, touched at the lord’s concern for his wife and child, “Lady Stark is experiencing little more than body aches. Normal for women carrying a child, especially their first. I’m afraid all the maester could do is offer milk of the poppy for discomfort, which could potentially do more harm to the child than good to the mother,” Cregan swallowed at the thought, “We’ve allowed the princess to soak in warm water, and the stretching helps while we prepare a hot pack over the fire.”

His gaze flickered to the small grate across the embers of the fireplace, holding three large black stones over them. He nodded, turning back to his wife, who had turned her face back into the rug while the other servant girl carefully massaged gentle circles into her lower back.

“What can I do?”

“The hot pack should help with the aches, but I’m afraid the best thing may be to keep Lady Stark as comfortable as possible, anything to keep her mind away from the pains.”

He nodded, “Leave us, I should care for my wife on my own.”

The door closed behind the two women as they hesitantly left their mistress’s side, loyal to the very end. Cregan wasted little time in removing his leather doublet and abandoning it on the plush bed, leaving him in only his breeches and thin linen shirt. He crossed the room, kneeling beside his wife and carefully laying his palm flat to her lower back, a small smirk appearing on his lips as she sighed from the relief brought by his large, warm hand. 

“If you were not so obviously in pain, I would guess that you were enjoying this, my love,” he chuckled as his hand copied the same circular pattern that the servant girl had applied.

“Shut up,” she turned her head to the side so she could glance up at him, “this is your fault.”

“My fault?” He scoffed, “As I recall, your current condition is the result of your uncontrollable desires.”

She pushed herself up onto her hands, “My what? It was you who was gone to the Wall for more than a moon!”

“And it was you who kept me from my duties until midday on the day after I returned.”

She pursed her lips, “Alright, next time I will allow you to go about your duties without a word. Then we will see which one of us is so insatiable.”

“Be that the case, I’m afraid you may be with child for the next decade or more, my love.”

“Just get the hot pack,” Lady Stark rolled her eyes, lowering her head back down to the plush rug, muttering to herself with a small grin, “a decade or more…”

He obliged, wrapping the stones in a thick woolen cloth before pressing them against the small of her back, a dusting of pink coating his cheeks at the sound she released, back curving inwards as relief overtook her body. 

They remained there for a long while, one of his hands holding the hot pack while the other smoothed over her silver hair, braided and still damp from her bath. The stones began to cool against his palm until they were no warmer than her own body heat, finally being tossed to the side.

“How do you feel?” He asked her, hands cradling her head and hip as he helped her roll onto her side.

“Better. Still plagued with discomfort, but better nonetheless,” She smiled softly at him, “I only wish someone may have warned me of the unpleasantness of pregnancy before I agreed to it.”

He barked out a laugh, remembering the many times she had pointed out the many ways pregnancy could ruin any romance in their marriage before it even began, hence their decision to wait before finally trying to conceive. 

“If only, eh?” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

A twinkle appeared in her eye, “Well Maryssa did say that you should be doing anything to keep me comfortable…”

Lord Stark raised his brow at her words, “And what was it you only just said about me being insatiable? How have you gone from crippling pain to reaching for my breeches in such a hurry?”

She gasped, faux offense in her eyes, “I am not reaching for you breeches! What do you take me for?”

He quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, leaning down to press a slow yet meaningful kiss to her lips, “My very pregnant, very beautiful, and very impatient wife.”

She whined against his mouth, “I think impatience is quite appropriate given the circumstances. Your child has brought me the greatest joy and greatest pain of my life, and yet I constantly yearn for you, my love.”

“Constant?” He laughed.

“The maester warned me of it,” she kissed him again, “all a part of my hysteria, he called it.”

He hummed, “Which brings me to wonder why I was not made aware of this. I could have…relieved you of this suffering.”

She snorted a laugh, a sound he knew he could never grow tired of, “Cregan, if you do not take my clothes off now I would like to go to bed.”

“And what was it I said about your impatience?”

She pushed at his shoulder playfully, gasping as he grasped her wrist in his large hand and pulled her to sit up, moving to lift her and carry her to the bed when she pushed at his shoulder, shaking her head with a sly grin. 

“Here,” she insisted, “it is so warm, and this fur is so soft.”

He shook his head at her, rolling his eyes. Only his wife would be demanding enough as to where he had his way with her and choose anywhere except their marital bed. Only he would be so foolishly in love as to oblige her every whim and allow her to make such demands. 

Growing impatient, she began tugging at her own shift, struggling to lift her hips just enough to slide it over her hips and off completely, leaving her bare before her husband while the firelight flickered off of her soft, freshly oiled skin. His eyes fell from her own to her breasts, which had seemingly doubled in size through her pregnancy, then to her rounded belly; only a few moons would pass before she brought their first child into the world, and he could not be any more in love with her. He knew how excited she’d been over the last few weeks as her body developed with their growing child, spending much of her time with little Rickon, who was just as excited to become an older brother as she was to become a mother. 

“I am not simply here for decoration,” she growled, reaching up to begin tearing the linen shirt from her husband’s body, ignoring his laughter as she struggling to pull the fabric over his wide shoulders and causing his head to get stuck for a moment, “As I said, fuck me or let me sleep.”

His booming laugh echoed through the chamber, scarcely hearing his wife, a Targaryen princess and Lady of Winterfell, use such coarse language. It was the northerner growing within her, he decided as he obliged, kissing her with every ounce of desire he’d been forced to swallow throughout the duration of her family’s stay, pressing her back to lay flat against the dark brown fur. 

Cregan made quick work of kissing down her body, taking a few moments to kiss and suckle and squeeze at her swollen breasts, encouraged by her response to his touch on her sensitive skin as he continued further down. He pressed several playful kisses over her belly, whispering to their child to go to sleep so he could take care of his wife guilt-free. She giggled at this, causing a flood of heat to spread across his chest as he finally crested over the underside of her belly, coming face-to-face with the silver curls safeguarding her womanhood. 

Her legs fell apart easily, and he found no resistance as he eagerly began to feast upon her most intimate place. Her fingers curled into the fur beneath her as her whines and whimpers filled the room, unable to reach for his long dark hair with her belly in the way. He was pleasantly surprised to discover how much of her arousal had pooled between her thighs, two of his thick fingers easily slipping into her heat with practiced precision while his tongue massaged her sensitive pearl. 

Her body seemed more responsive than ever, thighs quivering against his shoulders as her peak crashed over her once, and then moments later, once more. 

He pulled away, noting how her hips had begun to pull away from him, her womanhood more sensitive than ever. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, watching through lustful eyes as his wife grabbed hold of his other wrist, taking the fingers that had brought her to bliss twice only moments before between her lips and sucking them clean. She stared up at him through her lashes, leaning up on her elbow to reach down and paw at the tent that had formed in his breeches, tugging at the laces until they fell open and allowed her to reach inside.

He let out a low growl at the sensation of her hand taking hold of his member, head falling back in relief. Cregan was quick to pull her hand away, shedding his trousers and boots as efficiently as possible so he could lay her flat on her back once more and finally press himself inside of her. 

They both let out long, breathy sounds at the stretch; no matter how many times they would lay together, she never quit got used to the intrusion of his thick cock inside of her, He remained still for a moment, regaining his wits as he willed himself not to finish far too early, though he could not guarantee that he would be able to fight his peak for very long after weeks without his wife’s intimate touch. 

“Cregan, please,” she whimpered, nails scratching down his arm as she planted his fist next to her head, bracing himself as he began to work slow, deep thrusts into her warmth, his own grunts and gasps of pleasure falling from his lips while her lips fell open to allow wails of her enjoyment fall from them with every punch of his tip against her most sensitive place deep within her. 

“My love,” he panted, “For-forgive me…I do not think–”

“Give yourself to me, my love,” she whined, “I need to feel you.”

He nodded, eyes tightening shut as he quickened his pace, chasing his release with grunts and growls and groans until his hips began to stutter, his release pumping deep inside of her until he was shaking. His release triggered her own, pleasure crashing over her for the third time that evening, soaking his length in both of their releases as she clung to his broad frame for dear life. 

She whined when he pulled out of her, sensitive from her three climaxes. He took a moment to stare down at her, stormy gaze trailing from her cunt, where their mix juices had begun seeping from her warmth, to her belly, where their child grew. His eyes then moved to her breasts, which heaved with every deep breath the escaped her parted lips, and finally to her face, which shone with a layer of perspiration as she pulled him down to lay next to her on the fur, turning to press her back against his chest and settling into his embrace as he trailed sweet kisses over her cheek, jaw, and neck. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, sleep threatening to overtake her at any moment. 

“Thank you,” Cregan responded. “I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Silence overtook the room for a moment, only the sound of their slowing breaths and the crackling fire in the hearth could be heard before he finally shared his final thoughts of the night.

“I cannot bear to not have you all to myself for even a moment ever again,” he mumbled into her flesh, “we are never hosting your family again.”

A small chuckle vibrated through her chest.

“I could not agree more.”

[no-144444]

nothing bad!- o.piastri

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summary: the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

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You rolled your eyes as you watched the sprint end. Bullshit. Team orders had always left a bad taste in your mouth, but this was just bullshit. You sighed, looking at Mark, and he just rolled his eyes. Oscar was on par with Lando in his second season. Yes, there were some small mistakes or issues, but he was a fucking jet engine, and he deserved a team that treated him like one. He was going to be World Champion next year, you knew it, Mark knew it, everyone knew it. 

“Fucking arseholes,” Mark cursed. “What time is your quali at?” 

“12,” you answered. “I’m going to just go talk to him, see you in a bit.” 

You stood in Parc Fermé and he came up, pressing a kiss to your lips and sighing as his team congratulated him. 

“That was such bullshit,” you sighed, following him to his driver’s room after the media duties. “Wanna fuck to get all that frustration out?” 

He nodded, not even looking at the question like it was a joke. You both knew it wasn’t. “How long until your quali?” 

“An hour,” you shrugged, pulling him into his room with a smirk. 

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When you two finally resurfaced, you made your way over to your car, ready to slot it onto the grid, as you did, you were stopped by Ted Kravitz, the man, the myth, the legend himself. 

“Y/n! How are you feeling about today’s quali and sprint race?” he asked. 

“Good, yeah. Just need to get out and up there,” you nodded. You were the number one driver in F1 Academy, and F2. This weekend was an F1 Academy weekend. You’d won every race since you’d joined the series, a sweep of total domination for 2 years. 13 wins under your belt in F1 Academy, 12 feature race wins in F2, and 12 Sprint wins in F2. And you were only 22. 

“And how did you feel about Oscar’s Sprint race? You didn’t look so happy in Parc Fermé.”

You rolled your eyes. “If Lando really needs Oscar to take a side step like that over one point, maybe he’s not ready to be champion,” you shrugged. “And that’s coming from a friend.” 

You could feel the air shift as Ted smirked, knowing what a headline that would be. 

“Thanks for your time Y/n, we’ll see you on the other side of Quali,” he smiled, allowing you to walk on. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Pole position, again. 

It was almost funny how easy it was. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You made your way back into your garage and found Oscar looking proud, but slightly guilty…

“What did you do?” you asked, putting your helmet and gloves down. 

“Nothing bad,” he prefaced. “But I may or may not have posted something.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Show me.” 

He turned his phone around and you laughed. 

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oscarpiastri

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, y/nracing, and 839,231 others

oscarpiastri: get yourself a girlfriend who a) is intelligent, gorgeous, and awesome. and b) publicly humiliates your teammate over one point :)

comments

landonorris: low blow... i thanked you -> y/nracing: u forgot to thank beyonce.

user82: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

mclaren: please take this down xxx -> y/nracing: if he takes this down i'll bomb mtc. -> mclaren: OH GREAT HEAVENS.

zbrownceo: we know this diva 💜

lilymhe: hold up im trying to spell gorjus -> y/nracing: OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU DITCH ALEX FOR ME PLZ

carlossainz: at least you've got a leg up on lando... -> user22: ??? -> carlossainz: he hjas a girlfriend that loves him, lando's dumps him every four days -> landonorris: WHY AM I CATCHING STRAYS RN????

oscarpiastri: who is this gorgeous lady? -> y/nracing: she's taken bucko -> oscarpiastri: not by lando norris 😹😹😹 (even though he asked you out first...) -> y/nracing: who the fuck would pick lando over oscar?

pierregasly: WHO IS THIS DIVA 💜

charlesleclerc: glad to see my daughter in law is still insane

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Well, I’d better post something myself, shouldn't I?” you smirked. He nodded, a bright blush on his cheeks, knowing exactly what you were going to post. 

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y/nracing

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,293,942 others

y/nracing: booo ln4. i'm into op81. oh yeah, also our skims collection is out on the 24th xxx

comments

user82: OH MY FUCKING GOD

user29: i have no one to talk to about this.

oscarpiastri: pretty girl -> y/nracing: pretty boy

landonorris: ??? ->oscarpiastri: I will actually gouge your eyes out, unlike this post right now. -> user92: WHAT HAPPENED TO POLITE CAT? -> oscarpiastri: his teammate became a bitch

user92: HOLY SHIT Y/N IS LOOKING GORG

lilymhe: my girl is beautiful

alexandrastmleux: my girl xxx

charlesleclerc: supporting! (with my eyes closed)

pierregasly: 👀 ->oscarpiastri: close them.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[housepartyprotocol]

Existing Love

Max Verstappen x Uni Student! Reader

Summary: a sneak peak into the life of Max and his private girlfriend

Masterlist / TipJar

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, yourbff and 3,952 others

ynusername It's getting colder, workload is getting heavier

view all 79 comments

yourbff I hate looking at photos of what you do

ynusername its beautiful no yourbff no

user is this max's girlfriend? i saw he liked

user thats the public idea, they are quite private user she is pretty

maxverstappen

liked by redbullracing, landonorris, ynusername, and 651,876 others

maxverstappen One more race before winter break, lets keep pushing!

view all 10,008 comments

user 4 time world champion right here!

user god he is delectable

user he is taken i swear user if not posted officially doesn't count user thats fucking stupid

landonorris Looking forward to seeing you soon, you know where

user what on earth is going on maxverstappen don't you dare embarrass me landonorris i would never do such a thing

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, yourbff, and 2,643 others

ynusername When your friends are the only things keeping you going...

view all 12 comments

yourbff okay, now i'm feeling worried about your mental state

ynusername Thriving! Dying! Same thing! yourbff u need an intervention

user shes who i wanna be when i grow up

maxverstappen

liked by landonorris, redbullracing, ynusername, and 520,263 others

maxverstappen and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end.

view all 240 comments

user Dutch Lion!

user sometimes i forget how not old he is, and then he says something like this

user i bet this was written by like a young social media manager user or his gf, shes younger than him user he has a gf? since when? user why is she never in the paddock tho, that's sus...

landonorris 4 seasons in a row of championships. I say no more

maxverstappen Agressive, shame you werent on track landonorris wow danielricciardo woww redbullracing wowww user damn! max has got some SASS landonorris you will be regretting that.... you'll see maxverstappen Lando....

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, yourbff, and 3,140 others

ynusername Approach to the Christmas holidays may not be synonymous with parties, but for a uni student, everything is synonymous with parties

view all 19 comments

yourbff feral

ynusername wowwwwwww ynusername true maxverstappen true

landonorris I maybe shouldv'e gone to uni

ynusername all you would like is the parties, and they don't happen to often with us landonorris i would find other people

user okay i came across this account, why is lando norris here?

user and max verstappen?!? user thats Max's gf, we all think

maxverstappen

liked by landonorris, ynusername, danielricciardo and 473,838 others

maxverstappen Lando may be cut out for the partying lifestyle of a uni student, but I cannot handle another party for a year.

view all 275 comments

user lando looks hot as shit

user okay that girl must be his gf, she used the same picture in her posts

user you guys are getting insanely stalker-y user is it really stalker behaviour if they are both public Instagram user yes

user why is Max posting thirst traps of Lando. Not complaining

landonorris I mean i think i feel my liver die but YOLO

mclaren do we need to talk about your alcohol consumption maxverstappen Ha, get outed! landonorris No I was just getting an immersive week experience into the life of a uni student user he got sooo wasted

user damn i wished max posted thirst traps of himself like that

ynusername

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen, landonorris, and 4,002 others

ynusername driving flying home away for Christmas!

view all 21 comments

yourbff I am still so jealous you are in Monaco for Christmas

yourbff I am jealous you are in Monaco again full stop, this time without me ynusername I can't believe it myself yourbff also stop posting him, its sappppy ynusername girl its the first time i've posted him! yourbff stop it im feeling singleeee

user she has gone to see MAX it's so obvious

user or she is having fun on holiday with no other reasons user god leave some people be

user Monaco looks insane

maxverstappen

liked by ynusername, redbullracing, landonorris, and 620,632 others

maxverstappen it really is a wonderful time of the year

view all 352 comments

user max in a relationship confirmation?!

user does it matter

landonorris can't believe you got her to join you for Christmas, how?

maxverstappen becuase she loves me... landonorris bs. how much you pay her? maxverstappen nothing landonorris fine. Ill ask

user max being a white wine drinker, would not have guessed

user he is a sophisticated man

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, yourbff and 2,952 others

ynusername Ending the holiday on a high point

view all 17 comments

maxverstappen <3

ynusername <33 user OMH

yourbff come back I miss you

yourbff ... i need your notes ynusername I'm coming home soon yourbff YAy, bring ya man ynusername maybeeee

maxverstappen

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and redbullracing, and 835,235 others

maxverstappen 2 years ago a beautiful woman got tripped up by an idiot (me) on the sidewalk of the streets of Monaco, and since then has had my heart wrapped around her finger. YN, my love, to many more years

view all 872 comments

user CONFIRMATION

ynusername <33

user this is her?? user we were right! user the fact that you were right with an assumption, doesn't justify a year of stalkerish behaviour maxverstappen I love you x landonorris gagggggggg maxverstappen grow up

[curiouspupsicle]

Good Omens Fan Fiction Friday (12/6/24) - Illustrated Stories

Whoever decided that adult books didn't need artwork? I enjoy reading 19th century stories with line art from when they had been serialized (Dickens, Doyle, etc.) And who doesn't love Howard Pyle's beautiful illustrations for Robin Hood and King Arthur? So today I'm pleased to share a few of my favorite fan fics (but not all; some I've shared previously) accompanied by illustrations or in comic form. Like many illustrated fics, Butterflies in a Bell Jar (T) came about when a Big Bang united a writer and an artist. Writer Still_Not_King and artist @wyvernquill tell the story of co-workers Crowley and Aziraphale who team up at karaoke night and feel a spark. But it turns out, the company's no-fraternization policy is specifically directed at them and no one else. A surprising story that flies under the radar despite being truly unique and quirky. Rain in Avalon (M) by @snowfilly1 is set in Wessex after the death of King Arthur. Heaven wants peace. Hell wants war. Aziraphale and Crowley make a plan to keep both happy and themselves out of trouble. Start of The Arrangement. Sadly, I can't make out the name of the artist of the beautiful kiss illustration at the end. But worth stopping by to check it out. The latest from @klikandtuna, Naked and Afraid: Jingle Hell (T), is a Human AU in which Crowley and Aziraphale are competitors on reality show Naked and Afraid. This one-shot has great banter. I laughed out loud. And the writer also created the illustrations. Bonus is that it's set over Christmas for those looking for new holiday reads. Fan favorite @mrghostrat, wrote and illustrated Big Name Feelings (E) in which Crowley is a big name fan fiction writer who invites artist Aziraphale to pretend to be his boyfriend at a fan convention. Love the story and the style of the illustrations. Stalwart sun, wily moon (M) is a long, twisty tale in which Crowley is an art thief at the top of his game and Aziraphale is the former art conservator swept up into his world. Can't give much away without spoiling this tense and engaging story. But the writer/artist @dustandhalos decided that both our heroes are serious clothes horses. And provided stunning illustrations of their amazing outfits in the form of magazine cover art. Loved it!

I adore the style of @dreamdust who has been releasing two illustrated stories on tumblr. The first is Six Thousand Years in Love (NR) in which we see the developing relationship of our favorite pair starting in Eden. Each story comprises about 6 parts before going to a new setting. If you liked the cold open of episode 3 of the first season of Good Omens, don't miss out on what it inspired in dreamdust. And the second is Charmed (and Witch) (NR). A beautiful femme depiction in which Crowley is a witch and Aziraphale is the maiden caught in her enchanted grove. It is a WIP updated regularly. Purrchance to Dream (M) is a lovely collaboration between writer Calico and artist @vavoom-sorted-art. It's a WIP on hiatus but absolutely worth reading and subscribing in hopes they're able to get back to it. Crowley is suffering since Aziraphale returned to heaven. But he finds himself being stalked by a fluffy white cat who won't leave him alone. The comic form of One Night in Bangor (and the World's Your Oyster) is by @anotherwellkeptsecret based on the original fic by Atalan (found here - rated E). Heaven and Hell hold their annual joint meeting. But this time, the demons have made a bet about which hellish employee will be first to bed an angel. Both versions are hilarious. Do you have any favorite illustrated fics? Bonus points if the writer is also the illustrator. Please leave them in the comments. And please follow if you want to keep up with my weekly recs based on a different theme each time.

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Prologue

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 7839 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

Long summary I know, but I'm attempting something that I haven't tried to do in a long time and I've had this thought in my head for ages so I've just got to get it out now. This story will cover the plot from Season One to the beginning of Season Three. Apologies if anything is vague or inaccurate, I haven't watched the show in a while and cannot be bothered going back to get it right when the main plot of this story is entirely of my own design and not canon. Also, for the sake of the growing-up-together part, I've brought Dick's family's death up so he is taken in by Bruce earlier than 12 years old. I've always loved this version of Dick Grayson (Nightwing) in Young Justice and I hope I do him justice for those of you who also loved the show and him xx

~~~

(10 years old)

'Don't worry, my beloved,' Diana said in a soothing voice, patting her daughter's head gently as the car pulled up. 'It's not so scary on the inside.'

Wayne Manor was made of grey columns and dark shadows it seemed to little ten-year-old Y/N, who couldn't shake the feeling that the house was full of ghosts. It was an imposing structure, making her wonder how anyone would choose to live in such a cold and lifeless place.

'I want to go home, Mother,' she whimpered, backing away from the car window.

Diana turned her daughter's head to face her, giving her best reassuring smile to alleviate some of her daughter's worries. 'We will, but I need to take care of something first and I can't leave you at home alone. My very good friend has kindly offered for his butler to look after you while we sort our business out. He has a son that I think you will get along with quite well.'

Y/N couldn't believe that a child lived in the scary house outside, but she knew when not to question her mother.

Her mother was always busy, it didn't matter what time of the day or night. Y/N didn't quite know what her mother did, but she knew it was dangerous, as her mother would come home with cuts and bruises, exhausted from whatever she'd just been doing. The partial truth of it all came out just last week, as Y/N and her nanny had been attacked in their small apartment in Washington DC. The nanny had locked Y/N in the bathroom when the men attacked so Y/N didn't see what happened to her. But Y/N had heard her screams, had heard the men laughing at her anguish. She'd heard her mother finally arrive and slaughter the men. And when Y/N was finally let out of the bathroom, her mother's red, white, blue and gold metallic outfit was covered in blood, as was the sword she'd dropped as she pulled Y/N into her arms tightly.

Whatever kind of work her mother and her mother's "good friend" were involved in, if she said Wayne Manor was the safest place to be when she worked, then Y/N wouldn't argue.

It didn't stop Y/N from squeezing her mother's hand to the point of cut off circulation as they walked from the car into the scary house.

'Miss Prince,' a man in a tuxedo said in welcome. He was partially bald and his moustache twitched when he spoke.

'Alfred,' Diana said, giving the older man a warm smile. 'So good to see you again. And please, I am Diana to friends and family.'

'Of course,' Alfred said, a cheeky smile on his face, 'but forgive me if I prefer to be a little old-fashioned, Miss Prince.'

'Very well,' Diana said, turning her gaze down to Y/N. 'This is my daughter, Y/N.'

Alfred smiled warmly down at Y/N, crouching ever so slightly to hold out his hand. 'A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/N. Welcome to Wayne Manor.'

Y/N hesitated in taking his hand. She'd always been taught to be cautious around strangers.

'Come on, Y/N,' Diana insisted. 'Don't be rude.'

Y/N, with her free hand, accepted Alfred's outstretched one, giving it a firm shake like she'd seen her mother do with people she had meetings with at work and at home.

'My, you certainly have your mother's strength,' Alfred commented as he stood back up, shaking his hand a little. 'I'll be sure not to mess with you when you grow older.'

Y/N didn't have time to process what Alfred meant when two dark figures walked down a grand staircase into the lobby they stood in. As they drew closer to the light, Y/N distinguished one as a tall and broad-shouldered man with dark hair, neat attire, and a stern face. Beside him was a small child close to her height, also with dark hair and flashing blue eyes. Unlike the taller man, though, his face was bright with intrigue and mischief.

'Diana,' the tall man said by way of greeting as he reached the ground floor with the boy.

'Bruce,' she replied, walking herself and Y/N over to him and the boy. 'Thank you for offering to look after Y/N tonight.'

'Well, it won't be me personally,' Bruce replied, 'but I'm sure Alfred will be able to look after them while we're gone.'

'If I could raise you to be the man that you are today, Master Bruce, I am sure two beautiful children won't be much of a task,' Alfred called out casually as he closed the front door and exited the room.

'I've contacted Clark,' Bruce continued. 'He says he'll meet us at the rendezvous point. We should leave soon.'

Diana nodded. 'Okay.'

To her surprise, Y/N found Bruce's gaze on her, and his stern expression softened as he looked her over. 'This must be the famous Y/N I've heard so much about.'

Y/N remembered her mother's lessons on etiquette and nodded politely. 'Nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne.'

Bruce surprised her again as a small smile broke out, making him look younger and less intimidating than before. 'It's nice to meet you too, Y/N,' he said, looking down to the boy beside him. 'This is my ward, Richard.'

The young boy groaned in annoyance. 'It's Dick, Bruce. You know I don't like it when you use my real name.'

Bruce sighed, but conceded. 'Sorry, this is Dick. I hope the two of you get along tonight, Y/N.'

Before Y/N could reply, Dick stepped forward so that they only stood a step apart. His blue eyes were so bright as they scanned over her, and it took all of her will not to hide behind her mother.

He squinted sceptically at her. 'Do you like sparring, Y/N?'

'Dick,' Bruce exclaimed, eyes wide with horror. 'That's not something you should ask-'

Y/N ignored Bruce's protests as she locked eyes with Dick. She saw the challenge in them, and whatever fears she had about coming here faded away. A fire sparked in her, and she couldn't help herself but grab Dick's unsuspecting wrist and flip him over her and land him on his back. Before he could get up, she pressed a knee to his neck softly as she held him down.

'Y/N!' Diana exclaimed. 'That is not how we treat-'

She was cut off by the sound of Dick laughing, a sound so pure and light it brightened up the gloomy interior of the manor. Dick looked up at Y/N, not even bothered by the fact she was an inch away from cutting off his airway. 'Oh yeah, we're going to get along just fine, Bruce.'

The last of her apprehension to the arrangement disappeared as she released Dick from her death grip and helped him to his feet, a bright smile gracing her features.

'Where'd you learn to flip like that?' Dick asked.

'My mother,' she answered proudly. 'We've practiced for thirty minutes everyday since I was eight. I've also been taking classes back in Washington in judo and karate.'

'Cool!' Dick said. 'Maybe you can teach me some moves?'

'Sure!' Y/N answered.

Without even hesitating, Dick grabbed Y/N's hand and took off running to who knew where, words falling from him like a dam that had just been broken. 'Awesome! And then I can show you some of the cool gymnast tricks I picked up in the circus.'

'You were in the circus? That's so cool!'

The two of them were lost in their own world as Bruce and Diana remained in the lobby, looking after their children lovingly before they disappeared completely. When silence filled the room once more, they turned to each other.

'How much does she know?' Bruce asked.

Diana sighed. 'Enough to know that she will never have a normal life. Not after the incident last week. I thought I had a bit more time.'

Bruce placed a hand on his friend's shoulder comfortingly. 'I'm sorry, Diana. Truly. It's hard enough protecting a child who isn't your own. At least Dick has known death before. He knows everything.'

Diana nodded her appreciation, patting Bruce's hand before he let it drop. 'She will know, one day, what all this means. What her destiny is. Until now she has shown how much of Steve she has in her.' Diana paused at the memory of her fallen lover, feeling the tears rise up whenever she thought of him. 'But I fear she will grow to inherit my power, my responsibilities. I don't know if I'm ready to let her become that for the world. Not yet.'

'Diana,' Bruce said softly, 'she might not have a choice one day. I fear the same thing for Dick. You and I won't be around forever. The world will look to them to help, one day.'

Somewhere in the distance, Y/N and Dick's laughter resonated through the manor, giving it a warmth Bruce hadn't felt in a while. He smiled at the sensation. 'But for now, they have a choice. They can choose to be kids. Until the world no longer needs us.'

~~~

(11 years old)

'Uuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhh,' Y/N groaned as she flopped onto Dick's bed, textbook flattening over her face in defeat. 'I give up. I'm never going to pass this infuriating maths exam next week.'

All Y/N received was an amused laugh from the dark-haired boy, resulting in her throwing her textbook at his head where we sat on the floor. But Dick had always been quick, dodging the book easily. He was even more quick since they'd started training with each other since she moved to Gotham permanently for school.

She was enrolled at the same school as Dick: Gotham Academy. It was the best school in the area, and when she'd received her scholarship, her mother couldn't refuse her wishes to move. Y/N stayed in the boarding house for the most part, but being friends with the Bruce Wayne's only son certainly had its perks. Such as getting out of the boarding house whenever she needed to study and train without prying eyes.

Dick laughed again. 'Come on, Y/N,' he said, picking up her strewn textbook and offering it back to her. 'It's not so bad. We're just trying to find x.'

Y/N rolled over onto her stomach so Dick wasn't upside down anymore. 'Yes, and it is impossible! I mean, they give us nothing to try and figure out a and b, but we need them both to find out x. How?!'

When Y/N didn't take her book back, Dick put it on the ground and shuffled forwards. He did so until he was half an arm's length away from Y/N's face where it rested in her hands.

'All right, let's have a break,' he said. 'Focus on something else. How about... Ooo, I know! What would your vigilante name be?'

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed. 'What?'

'Your vigilante name,' Dick reported. 'You know, like a code name for ordinary people to refer you by. Like Bruce for example, he's Batman.'

'So like my mother too, who is Wonder Woman,' Y/N added.

Dick nodded. 'Correct. When we start fighting bad guys - and we will some day - we will need alter egos so villains don't pursue us outside of an ordinary mission.'

Y/N sat up as Dick jumped to his feet, pulling out all kinds of ninja-karate moves, many of which Y/N had taught him herself over the last year. 'I think I'll be something winged too. Batman needs to be accompanied by another flying animal, don't you think?'

'That is... logical,' Y/N admitted, though not understanding his motives for the specific topic. 'I haven't given much thought to the matter, honestly. I'm too busy trying to find this dumb x value.'

Dick landed a slam kick against thin air before he took up a normal standing position in front of Y/N. He smiled down proudly at her. 'I was thinking of just bird,' he confessed, taking a seat beside her on his bed, 'but then I thought that was boring. Batman and Bird, yeah sooooo intimidating. So I was thinking maybe Hawk, or Sparrow-'

'Why does it have to be intimidating?' Y/N asked.

Dick paused for the first time in the conversation and looked at her as if she was crazy. 'Because Batman is intimidating. I don't want to be seen as a sissy when I rock up beside him to fights. I defs won't feel the aster, then.'

'But shouldn't a hero be giving people reassurance and hope when they come to save people?' Y/N countered. 'Why would you want to be something that all people dread when you enter the door. I think a hero's name should be strong and encouraging. Something like my mother's.'

Dick rolled his eyes. 'You're just saying that because she's you're mum.'

Y/N shook her head. 'No I'm not. I've seen it first hand. When my mother shows up to lend a hand, the people cry with joy and relief because they know she will do all that she can to save them. I'm not saying Batman - Bruce - doesn't do the same thing, but I just know that when I have to be a hero, I would hope my name inspires people to keep hoping. Not fear me.'

Y/N watched Dick process her words, saw his piercing blue eyes grow distant as he looked down at his hands. For a moment, Y/N worried she'd ruined everything. That she'd overstepped. Dick and Bruce's relationship - it was more of an arrangement, in her opinion - was tenuous to say the least, the two of them always dancing on a very thin line that could snap at any moment when push comes to shove. Either way, it wasn't her place to comment on how Dick should handle his relationship to Bruce.

However, when Dick looked up to Y/n again, she was relieved to find he wasn't angry at her. In fact, a soft smile had bloomed on his lips.

'You're right,' he said softly. 'I don't have to be scary. Bruce has that all covered.'

'Glad to hear it,' Y/N replied with a a reciprocal smile. 'So... anymore ideas on your name?'

'Well, I still believe it's got to be a bird of sorts,' Dick answered. 'But let's steer clear of the birds of prey, shall we? Maybe Jaybird, or Bluebird. No, that's stupid. Raven? Nah, that's going backwards...'

'How about Robin?' Y/N suggested, and Dick's smile broadened to the point Y/N was scared he'd split his mouth right open.

'That's perfect!' he exclaimed, bringing her into a hug. 'Batman and Robin. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?'

'It sure does,' Y/N said, grateful to have helped.

When Dick let her go, he said, 'Now how about you? What do you think your vigilante name should be?'

Y/N thought about it for a moment, but could only come up with one name. 'I like Wonder Woman, but mother already has that. I don't think two of us would make it easy for the public, especially if she is still working.'

'That is true,' Dick replied, turning away from her as he delved into deep thought. Y/N could tell he was thinking deeply as his tongue was poking out ever so slightly - the thing he always did when he was concentrating really hard. Y/N always found it amusing since the day she met him.

Y/N jumped a little when Dick suddenly cried out with excitement. He turned back to her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look directly at him. 'How about we take inspiration from your mother? Use part of her name to create yours. Like Wonder Girl!'

Y/N shook her head. 'No, that's really lame, Dick.'

'Wonder Kid?'

'No.'

'Wonder... Child?'

'No!'

Dick snapped his fingers and his eyes brightened as Y/N assumed a great thought popped into his head. 'I've got it: Wonderess! You know, like Wonder Woman and goddess put together!'

'Wonderess...' Y/N tested it out on her tongue, and she smiled at how easy it rolled off. It was simple, it was to the point. She could just hear the world now, shouting and screaming and crying her name for joy, for help.

She couldn't stop her smile from widening and matching Dick's. 'I love it.'

'Great!' Dick slid back down to the floor and grabbed the forgotten textbook she'd thrown at him earlier. 'Now, oh mighty and powerful Wonderess, time for you to conquer the alluding and difficult enemy that is mathematics.'

Despite her earlier anguish, Y/N felt rejuvenated and took the book from Dick and opened it back to the page she'd failed to understand. 'Then conquer mathematics we shall, oh sneaky and charming Robin.'

Dick flashed her one of his dazzling smiles. 'Oh yeah, I can see it now. Robin is going to be popular with the ladies when I'm older.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain her smile. 'Don't make me throw this book at you again.'

Dick raised his hands in mock surrender before they both dove back into their respective homework. But after five minutes of work, Y/N had another thought.

'Dick. What does "aster" mean?' ~~~

(13 years)

When Y/N had walked into the Hall of Justice earlier that day, she never imagined that she'd end up helping her best friend and the sidekicks of the Flash and Aquaman break into a top secret and highly secured lab centre, get captured by the mad scientists running the show down there, break out and now be standing in front of the Justice League as a Superman look-alike (that they'd broke into for and out of with) stared down his creation's inspiration.

'Start talking' Batman said, finally breaking the tense silence.

Between Kaldur, Wally, Dick, and Y/N (Superboy, Y/N realised early on, didn't talk much), the story of how they ended up at Cadmus and pretty much destroyed it was eventually told. Afterwards, the blockbuster monster they'd fought was taken away by Green Lantern and some other League members. Y/N couldn't help but peak at her mother as Wonder Woman herself conversed with Superman and Martian Manhunter. For a brief moment, Diana looked her daughter's way then quickly averted her gaze. But Y/N knew from that one look that her mother was unimpressed by her actions today.

'Cadmus will be investigated,' Batman said, after Superman said a frosty goodbye to his younger clone. 'All fifty-two levels. But let's make one thing clear-'

'You should've called!' the Flash finished, crossing his arms, clearly disappointed in his sidekick's efforts.

'End results aside, we are not happy,' Batman continued. 'You hacked Justice League systems; you disobeyed direct orders; and you endangered lives. You will not be doing this again.'

Y/N's heart faltered at the very notion. Despite the wreckage and the stress and the struggles they had faced, Y/N very much liked working with Dick, with Kaldur and Wally too. Even the Superboy was enjoyable at some points. To never work with them again was not something she expected she would miss after one mission.

Kaldur and the other boys must've read her mind, as he stepped forward, standing tall and speaking with a strong voice well beyond his years. 'I'm sorry,' he began, eyes never leaving Batman, 'but we will.'

'Aqualad,' Aquaman started, stepping up behind Batman. 'Stand down.'

'Apologies, my King. But no,' Aqualad replied. 'We did good work here tonight. The work you trained us to do. Together. On our own. We forged something powerful. Important.'

'If this is about your treatment at the hall,' the Flash started, 'the four of you-'

'The five of us,' Wally corrected, looking directly at Superboy as he did, 'and it's not.'

'Batman,' Dick said, stepping to the front of the group. 'We're ready to use what you taught us. Or why teach us at all?'

'Why let them tell us what to do?' Superboy interrupted, pushing past Dick to take the lead. 'It's simple, get on board. Or get out of the way.'

Y/N joined her friends in staring down the heads of the Justice League. It was an intimidating figure they all posed, but Y/N knew she was doing the right thing. That her and her friends had done the right thing tonight.

Diana joined Batman, the Flash, and Martian Manhunter, her face unreadable and voice monotone. 'Are you sure this is the path you would like to forge, Wonderess?' she asked, her voice echoing in the crater they stood in.

Apart from Dick and Bruce, no one else (to Y/N's knowledge) knew that Wonder Woman and Wonderess were related in any manner. Not that either disguised themselves like other heroes did - purposefully hiding their faces to conceal their identities like Batman and the Flash - but neither outwardly acknowledged their true relationship either.

However, Y/N could tell her mother wasn't just asking her as her sidekick, but as her daughter. Was Y/N really prepared to risk all she had trained for, for some... strangers?

Y/N eyed the golden lasso that hung at her mother's hip, and opened her hand to summon the seemingly never-ending rope into her hand. It wrapped around several times, then glowed as Y/N clenched a tight fist around it.

'I am more certain than I have ever been, Wonder Woman,' Y/N replied, feeling the lasso urge her to speak all her truth. 'While I still endeavour to one day be your successor, my place is with my friends right now. We need to walk this path together, wherever it leads. I know this to be absolute truth.'

Y/N sucked in a breath as she let go of the lasso, feeling slightly drained from the power it had over her. Dick put a hand on her back to brace her as she recovered. Once Y/N had caught her breath, she spared Dick a grateful smile, which he reciprocated.

Just as it had been from day one, they would ride this wave together. No matter how rough.

The very next day, the five of them were taken to Mount Justice, the backup facility for the Justice League as Batman explained. Upon arrival, they met M'gann, Martian Manhunter's niece, and soon after Artemis was brought into the mix.

Soon, they were the Young Justice.

~~~

(13 years old)

'Congratulations team, you have won the day,' Red Tornado said as he laid dismembered on the ground.

The rest of the team had just reconnected as the Justice computer phased a date and time code onto one of the glass walls of the Watchtower. It read: January 01, 00:00 EST.

'Happy New Year, Justice League,' the computer announced.

To no one's surprise, Wally picked up Artemis and pulled her in for a long-awaited kiss. M'gann and Connor paired up, so did Rocket and Aqualad surprisingly.

Y/N felt uncomfortable watching them all making out, so she turned to her best friend so they could give them all some privacy. 'Hey Dick, let's go-'

But as she turned around, Y/N saw that Dick had also paired off with someone: Zatanna. This time, Y/N couldn't help but stare as the two of them made out.

Since day one of Zatanna joining the team, Y/N had noticed Dick had a thing for her. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, she was just a year older than them but that just made her more desirable, and she was good with magic!

Something stirred inside Y/N, something that twisted her guts to the point she thought she'd throw up. Was it jealousy? No, she wasn't the jealous type. Besides, Dick was her best friend, no one could change that. He could kiss whoever he wanted to kiss. At the end of the day, they'd still talk and laugh and spar and go get ice cream together.

...Right?

'Human customs still allude me,' Red Tornado said from his place on the floor.

'You're not the only one...' Y/N mumbled to herself, standing all alone.

~~~

(16 years old)

Y/N was just sparring on a test dummy when Dick entered the training ring looking a little worse for wear, his usual mischievous smile not visible.

'Hey,' Y/N said, finishing up her combo of kicks and punches, heaving in deep breaths. 'What's up, bird brain?'

He didn't reply straight away, instead standing on the edge of the fight ring as if afraid to step out of the shadows and into the light. Y/N raised an eyebrow in confusion. 'Dick?'

When he didn't respond again, Y/N walked over to him. And when she got closer, she realised why he remained in the darkness.

'Have you been crying?' she asked softly, scared to speak too loud in case he ran away.

Dick wasn't an emotional guy. He just wasn't. He was the mischievous gremlin who kept the team together with his witty remarks, charm, and sheer intelligence. And even though Kaldur had been the leader of their team for years now, Dick always wanted to be a leader like Bruce was for the Justice League. He never gave himself room to be emotional.

So for him to stand in front of Y/N with red-rimmed eyes and tear marks streaking down his face, whatever had just happened had to be so impactful it finally broke his resolve.

He averted his eyes. 'Zatanna,' he started, biting his lip to suppress sobs falling out between the words. 'She broke up with me.'

Subconsciously, Y/N had been dreaming about hearing those words for a long time. She didn't quite understand why, as Zatanna was a close friend and Dick was by far her best friend so of course she only ever wanted happiness for them. But now that Dick stood in front of her so broken and sad, Y/N only felt sorry and remorse.

'Oh Dick,' she said. 'I'm so sorry... How can I help?'

Dick shook his head vigorously, eyes still averted from her. 'Can you just... Can we spar please? I think I really need that right now.'

His tone was restrained, as if he were holding back what he really thought. Y/N had half a thought to suggest they just talk, but when he finally looked directly at her, how could she refuse her best friend? After all, she was the only one he never wore his glasses around. Even after all these years with the team, he trusted no one else but her with his identity.

The original members knew, but even then he still wore his shades around them half the time if he wasn't in his vigilante suit. But not around Y/N, though. Never around Y/N.

'All right,' Y/N conceded, walking with him back to the centre of the fighting ring. She stood in her usual starting position, hands raised and feet split ready to fight. 'Same rules as last time?'

Dick nodded. 'No flying from you, no gadgets from me. Just us.'

'Perfect.'

Y/N launched into a heated sparring match, much more heated than any other match she'd had before with him. Sparring matches are usually to practice a skill, usually some punches can be pulled. But not now, Dick was throwing himself into everything, becoming sloppy, opening himself up. While the first few jabs Y/N got in were small victories, she soon grew worried as he grew more and more reckless as the match progressed.

'You're opening yourself up too easily, Dick,' Y/N commented between heavy breaths. 'Tighten up your stance.'

Dick groaned with frustration in answer, throwing another punch at her which she easily ducked and palm-punched his abdomen hard. He stumbled back as he caught his breath, but Y/N took it as her chance to end the fight as she charged at him, crash-tackled him to the mat with a bit more super-strength than she'd been using and pinning his limbs to the ground.

Dick struggled under her, but she refused to let go. 'Concede, Grayson. Now,' she demanded.

She rarely used his last name, only when he was in serious trouble or when she really needed him to listen. So he stopped, and he looked up at her and he nodded. 'I concede,' he said between huffs of air.

Y/N nodded her head in acknowledgement before stepping off him and helping him to his feet. For years they had been the same height, but once Dick had hit fourteen, he shot up fast. He was still lean and more on the skinny side, but he was toned in certain places and he now stood a head taller than Y/N. But she didn't let his new height stop her from locking eyes with him.

'Do you feel... somewhat better now?' she asked cautiously, feeling that Dick was on the brink of an explosion, she was just unsure what kind it would be.

To her surprise, Dick's piercing blue eyes welled up with tears. 'No,' he said.

Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around him, and Dick fell into her and wrapped himself around her as if she were a warm blanket on a cold night. They stood like that - with Dick crying silently into her shoulder and Y/N rubbing soothing circles into his back - for who knew how long. A minute, two, an hour maybe. It didn't matter, Dick needed Y/N'S help so she would stay there as long for as it took.

'She said she couldn't do it anymore,' he said finally, tears finally finished running, but he still didn't break from Y/N's embrace. 'The long distance.'

'Being promoted to the Justice League is a huge commitment, Dick,' Y/N offered.

'It's not just that, though,' he said. 'I think she couldn't take me anymore. Ever since Jason-'

His voice cracked on the mention of his fallen brother, the next ward Bruce had taken under his wing. When he joined the team, Jason took over the Robin mantle, giving Dick freedom to explore a new path of vigilante identity. One outside of Bruce's shadow and the dynamic duo of Batman and Robin. He'd settled upon Nightwing - another name Y/N helped come up with - and he'd taught Jason everything he knew about being Robin and how he could find his own meaning for the role.

But Jason never got the chance to do the same for the next Robin, who Bruce mentioned would never be found after Jason's death. Jason had been killed on a mission with the Batman himself only a month ago, and Dick had secretly been a wreck ever since. He'd learnt from his sponsor who to hide his emotions, but Y/N assumed he had to let it out to someone or someones every so often. Those people were herself, and no doubt Zatanna.

Despite her bubbly and adventurous personality, Zatanna knew death, knew grief. It suddenly angered Y/N at the thought that Zatanna had dumped Dick because he was grieving and couldn't give her the attention he had become known to give her daily.

Y/N held her tongue as she pulled him tighter, though. Now was not the time to rub salt into his open and bloody wound.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me, Dick,' Y/N reassured him. 'I understand.'

He squeezed her tighter. 'First my family, then Jason, now Zatanna. Promise me you won't leave too. Promise.'

'I promise, Dick,' Y/N answered. 'I'll always be here if you need me.'

Dick finally pulled away from her, but only far enough that he still held her in his arms and she had to angle her head harshly upwards to look him in the eye. Despite the redness, Dick's eyes still shone a blue that didn't seem quite real - like the colour of the purest, cleanest ocean.

So beautiful.

'You're my best friend, Y/N,' he said softly, a grateful smile finally breaking through his sadness. 'You know that right?'

Once upon a time, Y/N wouldn't have hesitated in answering. Yes, she would say, because it was the truth. It was the truth still, but a discomforting feeling in her stomach squirmed at the words "best friend". What he meant to her went past the simple label, at least in her opinion. But she just couldn't quite put it into words yet.

'Y-Yeah, I know,' she stammered out quickly. She had paused way too long to answer. 'Just like you're mine, bird brain. Don't think a bunch of tears is going to scare me off so easily.'

She was so glad to be the one to make him laugh then. It was the most melodic sound she'd ever heard, even though she'd heard it a thousand times before. Dick could never be tiring to her.

Finally - and thankfully - Dick stepped out of her arms, allowing her to suck in air that had previously been missing from between them. But he stole it all right back when he flashed her that charming smile of his.

'Guess I'll see you tomorrow, Wonderess,' he said. 'Thanks again for the sparring. I'll be sure to tighten up for next time.'

'G-Great, good, excellent,' Y/N stumbled over her words, unable to breathe when he smiled so causally yet so beautifully at her. 'See you tomorrow.'

Dick gave her a tiny wave as he left the room. As he left, Artemis and M'gann strolled in wearing civvies. They greeted and farewelled Dick before continuing to walk to Y/N, who stood frozen where Dick had left her staring after him.

'You okay, Y/N?' Artemis asked, waving a hand in front of Y/N's face. 'Helloooooo. Earth to Y/N?'

'Maybe she's fallen into a hypnotic state,' M'gann suggested. 'Or worse! A mind ant has taken over her brain! I'll have to go inside her mind to weed it out.'

That finally disrupted Y/N from her stupor. 'No! No need for that. No mind ants here,' she frantically said just M'gann was about to enter her mind.

'Then why were you looking like Medusa had risen from her mythical death and frozen you in place?' Artemis asked, deadpan.

'First of all, Medusa was a real person. Greek Mythology is real, or therefore my mother and I wouldn't be here today,' Y/N countered. 'Second of all... I think I a have a crush on Dick.'

As soon as she said the words, she knew them to be true. She didn't need to discuss it with the girls, she already knew.

Y/N Prince, daughter of Wonder Woman, had a huge, fat crush on her best friend, and son of Batman himself, Richard 'Dick' Grayson.

'Shit,' all three girls said at once.

~~~ (18 years old)

Y/N watched with sad eyes as two of her closest friends walked away under the cover of darkness. Again. Kaldur and Artemis - the latter now legally dead - waved farewell before they entered a small submarine, on their way to continue infiltration of the Light on Kaldur's father's ship.

Two figures stepped up beside Y/N. 'Well,' Wally started, 'I guess that's that.'

'For now,' Dick said. 'I promise, Wally, we'll bring them both back.'

'Yeah, whatever,' Wally said, turning to leave. 'You're my bro, Dick. But if Artemis is really killed because of this, I will never forgive you.'

Wally's footsteps resounded through the empty fishing warehouse as Y/N continued to stare out at the ocean. Soon, it was just her and Dick.

'We should head back to headquarters,' Dick suggested. 'Someone might start to wonder where we are.'

But Y/N didn't turn to leave, still transfixed by the ocean. 'I thought I was okay with all this,' Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 'I convinced myself that this was for the greater good. But now I'm not so sure.'

'What do you mean, Y/N?' Dick asked.

'The lying, Dick,' she answered, finally turning to him. 'The secrets, the faking of deaths and undercover betrayals. If we keep this up, it'll tear the team apart.'

'It won't,' Dick reassured her, his voice so certain and sure. 'When this is all over and we explain it all, they will understand. I expect some disappointment and hostility for a while, but one day they'll understand why we did what we did. But this team we've built, Y/N, it is stronger than all this. I know it.'

Y/N shook her head, wanting to believe him but unable to put aside the horrible feeling in her gut. 'I know they are strong. I just wish there was another way for us to win.'

'Trust me, if there was, I would've taken it,' Dick said, and even with a mask on, Y/N knew he was telling the truth. 'I want all of us fighting this together. For now, we've just got to trust in Kaldur and Artemis that they will succeed.'

Y/N nodded, her gaze returning to the flat ocean waters where her friends had long since left behind. 'Maybe you should've sent me like I suggested,' Y/N said half-heartedly. 'You're a great substitute for leader, Dick. Truly. But the team took Kaldur's betrayal heavily, and Artemis and Wally were out of the game. We shouldn't have brought them back in. Wonder Girl is trained up enough to take my place. You don't need me.'

'Don't say that.'

Y/N could barely react as she was grabbed by her shoulders and forced to face Dick, who had crouched so he was eye-level to her and leaned in so she could see the slightest gleam of his pupils through the white mask.

'Don't say that,' Dick repeated, his grip on her shoulders firm and grounding. 'We do need you. You're a founding member too, Y/N. Regardless of if it were Kaldur or not, the team would've struggled without any one of us. And the only reason I was able to lead this team this past year is because I knew you had my back the entire time.'

'Really?' she asked, the one word a struggle to get out.

His expression softened and he loosened his grip. But Dick didn't release her yet. 'Y/N, you are always the one giving hope to the team whenever I can't raise their spirits. You were the one to console them after Kaldur leaving. You are strong and brave and you never give up, especially when the chips are down. And they have been down on us a lot lately.'

Y/N caught her breath as Dick released one shoulder to use his pointer finger to hold her chin up, making her look directly at him. 'It kills me that you don't see yourself how everyone else sees you. Which is amazing, Y/N. Amazing and wonderful.'

Y/N swore Dick could hear her heart thudding rapidly against her chest. In the two years since realising it, her crush on her best friend hadn't faded like she'd hoped. Instead, it had grown and blossomed but Dick still couldn't see how much she absolutely adored him. She'd resigned herself to the fact that he would never feel that way about her, and also if they were to date, then it would just make working together all the more complicated. She couldn't compromise on the team's relationship.

But as Y/N looked into Dick's eyes now, a little spark of hope flickered inside her. He was so close to her, he had to feel her heartbeat. He had to know... right?

A wind of doubt blew out the spark and she stepped away from Dick so her head would stop spinning. 'You just had to get a pun in there, didn't you?' she said, surprised at how calm and casual her voice came out all things considered.

Dick took a moment to gather himself, as if he too had been lost deep in thought. But soon that infamous smile of his stretched his lips and Y/N knew she could never say no to him. 'What can I say? I'm an opportunist.'

'I thought you were a gymnast.'

'I am also your best friend, and so I am legally obliged to slip in puns about you whenever possible.'

'Oh, do you now?' Y/N asked, lightly shoving him as she made for the warehouse door. Dick was right, they needed to head home before anyone started questioning their whereabouts.

Dick quickly caught up. 'I mean it Y/N. You are my best friend.'

'I know,' Y/N said nonchalantly, trying not to let the words sting too much. But she managed a soft smile as she said, 'And you are mine. Always have been...'

Dick flashed her a genuine smile, no charm, no hidden agenda behind it. He held his pinky finger up, to which Y/N linked her own with. '...Always will be,' he finished.

As they went home, Y/N felt better about Kaldur and Artemis' mission, as well as her place in the team. But she was now even more confused about Dick and how he felt about her. They were best friends, had been through so much together, it wouldn't be wise to ruin all that now.

But the way he'd looked at her, maybe there was a chance after all.

~~~

(18 years old)

'You're leaving?'

Y/N and Kaldur couldn't believe what they'd just heard. One minute, the three of them were discussing the team's next move after foiling the Reach's invasion plans and splitting the Light in half, and the next...

'That's correct,' Dick said. 'I just... I think I need to take a break for a while.'

'For how long?' Y/N asked, finally getting over the initial shock of his announcement. It had been a hectic day, full of surprises and sacrifices nobody saw coming. Right now, in her opinion, everyone needed to band together, not... leave.

Dick shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know. But it definitely won't be quick. This team has been my whole life for five years now. I think it's time I stepped away, let Kaldur take the reins again.'

'The team will not be the same without you,' Kaldur offered.

'The team already isn't the same,' Dick said solemnly, and the slightest crack in his voice indicated to Y/N what he was referring to. 'You, me, Y/N, Wally. We founded this team. Without him...'

Dick didn't need to finish. Y/N had felt Wally's absence since the moment he fazed out of existence. He saved the world, but he'd been too slow to combat the chrysalis' energy. Not even the Flash or Impulse could save him. It made Y/N so mad, because Wally must've known he wouldn't come out of it alive. He knew he was too slow, having been out of the game for so long.

And yet he did it anyway, because that was who Wally West - Kid Flash - was.

'I understand,' Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder.

'Thanks,' Dick said, then looked to the boom tubes of the Watchtower. 'I should probably go.'

'What? Now?' Y/N asked. 'At least see the day through, Dick.'

'There's nothing else for me to see through, Y/N,' he countered, already making his way to the boom tubes to make his exit. 'Kaldur is back, and so is the Justice League. I am no longer needed.'

Kaldur didn't follow Y/N as she chased after Dick. 'At least let the team know personally you'll be leaving. Don't you think they deserve that much from you after all we've done?'

'All I did was sign Wally's death sentence,' Dick answered harshly, not even bothering to turn around and face her. 'Yeah, the team really deserves that from their substitute leader.'

The two of them stopped before the boom tubes, facing each other one last time. Y/N grabbed Dick's wrist before he could dial in his code to exit the Watchtower.

'Dick, please,' Y/N pleaded, voice tight with desperation. 'I know you're hurting right now. We all are feeling Wally's death. But the team needs you right now. I need you...'

It was a last ditch attempt at convincing him that he meant more to her than just a friend. That he was her glue, that he was important to her and the team. That, even if he was nothing else, he was her best friend, and she was his.

Always have been... Always will be.

Don't go, she wanted to say, but the words never came out. It's like Dick had always been a part of her life; she now couldn't imagine her life without his witty remarks, without his odd use of words like "aster" and "traught", without his charming smile and kind eyes. She couldn't imagine life without him. Please, don't go.

Dick's sad expression told her he'd made his mind up before he even spoke the words.

'I'm sorry, Y/N,' he said softly, pulling her into a gentle embrace where he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. 'But I can't deal with this right now.'

As if in a dream, Dick stepped out of the embrace and dialled in his code for the boom tube.

'B:01 - NIghtwing,' the computer announced as the boom tube activated.

Dick was a step away from leaving Y/N behind when she called out, 'Don't be a stranger!'

She knew he had already made his mind up. But that didn't mean the two of them couldn't still be what they had always been. Best friends.

To her joy, Dick stopped and turned back around, a melancholic smile on his face as he held up his pinky finger. 'Always have been...'

Y/N reciprocated his smile as she too held up her pinky finger, imagining hooking it with his. '...Always will be,' she replied softly.

And then he was gone, and Y/N was left standing alone in the Watchtower.

She didn't realise she was crying until Dick was gone, until her senses had returned fully and felt the sensation of tears rolling down her face. That's when she acknowledged she was truly, utterly, hopelessly sad.

Because for the first time in seven years, Dick was no longer by her side. She didn't have Dick to fall back on when things got tough; she didn't have Dick to talk to about her issues with the new recruits; she didn't have Dick to laugh with after a night out at the arcade where he had failed epically at every game; she didn't have Dick reassuring her that everything would be okay, even when the world was telling them otherwise.

Dick was gone, and that was something Y/N had never expected to deal with.

'Wonderess.'

Y/N wiped her tears away before she turned to see who had called her. It was Kaldur, and based on his sympathetic expression, she knew he had heard everything.

'Batman and the rest of the Justice League wants to speak with us all,' he said.

'Right,' Y/N said, composing herself before walking over to join her friend.

Dick was gone, but she was still an integral part of Young Justice, and they needed her more now than ever. Whatever was to come their way now, they had to be strong, a united front.

Even if her heart yearned for someone who had completely abandoned her.

[verareids]

nights like these - spencer reid x gn!reader

spencer gets back from a rough case and reader comforts him. tags/cws: hurt/comfort, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluffy angst, mention of case involving kids but no details wc: 1008 a/n: Definitely not my favourite fic I've ever written and I haven't written anything in a while but it is my first Spencer fic so yay! Also, I was picturing late season 3/ season 4 Reid but it doesn't really matter. also posted on ao3

When the jet lands in Quantico at 12:47am Spencer is exhausted. After a truly grueling case he couldn’t even bring himself to read on the flight home. He’d just sat staring out the window. Kids. It’s always the cases involving kids that will fuck you up the most. JJ and Morgan have both tried their hand at comforting him and received a concerning lack of response. The rest of the team had been able to get some rest. Spencer hadn’t been so lucky. Every time he’d close his eyes he’d see their faces, hear their screams. Morgan stands up on the other side of the booth and the sudden motion pulls Spencer out of deep thought. He grabs his bag and prepares to get up when Emily shuffles past him, squeezing his shoulder on the way. The team clambers out of the jet and ends up in the bullpen, getting their things in order before they’re able to go home. Spencer walks out though the doors, heading for the elevator when the sound of JJ’s voice brings him to a halt.

“Reid…” JJ steps in front of him. “You heading home?” Spencer stops and stares at her incredulously.

“Yeah?” His tone showing only a hint of irritation. JJ looks back up at him, choosing to brush past his attitude.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her concerned stare feels as though it’s piercing right through him and suddenly he can’t quite meet her eyes.

“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, JJ.” He walks past her towards the elevator, pressing the button when her voice stops him in his tracks again.

“Spencer, just…” JJ’s voice trails off as he turns to look back at her, she tilts her head sympathetically. “I know you don’t want to talk right now but… try to talk to (y/n) at least, don’t bottle it all up.” He forms a tight-lipped smile and nods.

“I will, thanks.” He replies slightly dismissively and turns to step into the elevator as the doors open and shut behind him. 

Spencer walks through the parking lot faster than usual, wanting nothing more than to just get home. Maybe he’d find you waiting for him there, sitting on the couch with a book, or maybe watching a movie. He’d sit down next to you and let you run your fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp, kiss his face, make all of the horrible images fade away. However, when he does get home, there is only silence. The lights are off, save for one lamp you had left on so that it wouldn’t be too dark for him. Spencer hangs his bag on a hook and removes his converse, placing them neatly by the front door. He tries to keep the sound of his footsteps light as he moves to turn off the lamp. 

Once he finally enters the bedroom he finds you there, sleeping ever so peacefully. He lets out a long, shaky sigh, looking over at the digital alarm on the bedside table, 1:40am, of course you’re not still awake. Quiet as he can, he removes his work clothes and gets ready for bed. When he lays down beside you he rolls onto his side to look at your face. All of the emotions he’s worked so hard to hold back over the last few days come flooding back with stinging eyes and a lump in his throat that he can’t force away. He studies your face, your quiet, relaxed form and decides he shouldn’t wake you. You have work in the morning – you both do – and it wouldn’t be wise to disturb your sleep to burden you with his work problems, although he knew it to be much deeper than that. Spencer exhales a shaky breath and resigns to closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. He’s moments away from slipping into unconsciousness when a soft hand delicately brushes the side of his face.

“Spence?” He allows his eyes to flutter open at the sound of your voice and meets your drowsy, half shut eyes – his breath catching in his throat at the sight. When your lips stretch into an adoring smile he notices the stinging feeling in his eyes come back full force. “When did you get back?” You ask while your thumb runs a gentle line under his bottom lip causing him to bite it softly.

“Only five minutes ago.” Spencer replies with a shakiness he doesn’t bother to hope you won’t notice. Nothing ever gets past you. As expected, he watches as a subtle frown takes over your features.

“Bad?” You ask. A simple question, yet his eyes still well up when he nods in response. You don’t ask if he wants to talk about it, you know he doesn’t. “What do you need?’ Your hand moves again, this time to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen over his sullen face.

“You.” The way his voice cracks breaks your heart. You pull him into your chest and he rests his head there. When you run your fingers through his hair you feel his strong hands clutching the back of your shirt, pressing your body against his as close as possible. Tears stain your clothing as he breathes shakily against you.

This is the hardest part of Spencer’s job. Over the years he has developed an incredible ability to compartmentalize. He is generally pretty skilled at separating work from personal life. With a job like his you can’t afford to bring it home with you, but even with that mindset, there’s no way to stop it from getting to you occasionally. Nights like these are inevitable. You continue to thread your fingers through his curls as you feel him getting heavier against you as he slowly drifts to sleep. Staring straight up at the ceiling you can only hope that your presence will help keep the nightmares at bay. You whisper comforting words into his ear while you lay silently praying that tomorrow will be kinder to him.

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[desi2go]

Sick days

pairing: sick!Hyunjin x reader

Warnings: fluf

Summary: You imagined your day off differently. But taking care of your sick boyfriend was even better.

Being with Hyunjin was like a soft breeze that played with your hair and kept the busy thoughts away from you. It was like a sunset at the beach. The bright colours were exciting but calming. Every day was a new adventure, a new story.

As a nurse, you dealt with a busy and hectic schedule and Hyunjin was always there after a long 12 hours shift to bring you comfort. Like a breeze his fingers brushed through your hair as you hid your face in his neck, trying to get the annoying smell of disinfection out of your nose.

He was your safe space. Whenever you felt down or self-conscious, he grounded you and build you up. As an idol, he always worked ambitiously to perform the best for his beloved STAY. Even though he was exhausted, he makes sure that you are okay and looked after you at the end of the day.

He texted you, that today's practice would run late and you shouldn't wait for him. You just came home from your long shift and it was already 11 pm. You hoped that he wouldn't overwork himself and come home quickly. You quickly changed out of your work clothes and jumped under the shower. Then, you cleaned the dishes from the morning due to the missing time because nearly overslept. Luckily, you had managed to get to work in time but without a breakfast.

You figured that your boyfriend would be starving when he will get home, so you ordered takeout.

You yawned and cuddled further into the couch with a blanket draped over your lap as you watched your favourite TV show again. Well, you loved to watch it with him.

Hyunjin came home in the middle of the night. The clock in the hallway said that it was long after midnight and he felt terrible. Today's practice was a pain. It seemed like everything he did was slow and forced. There wasn't the usual easy flow, the balance and the melody didn't took over his body. It didn't guide him and that was frustrating, especially since the comeback season starts soon. He must give everything and more for his friends and STAY.

After he slipped out of his shoes, he walked into the living room just to see you on the couch. Your hair that was once in a neat ponytail was now all over your face and your head leaned against his pillow that you must have stolen from the bed. He chuckled quietly and quickly showered. Then, he kneeled in front of you and brushed some hair strands out of the way. Your nose scrunched and you stirred awake.

"Hello my love. Were you waiting for me" he whispered as your sleep driven eyes blinked at him and a small smile danced over your pretty lips.

"Yeah, I ordered takeout for you" you answered and rose from your snuggly place to stretch out your sore muscles. As much as you loved that couch, that you two bought together after moving in, the bed was way more comfortable. He pecked your forehead and went to heat up the food.

You followed him and cuddled into his side as he ate his food. You were sleepy and just enjoyed the warmth of your personal human heater. From time to time he cleared his throat.

"You ok?" You asked as he did it again. "Yeah, just drank less water while practicing"

You grapped him a bottle of water and a glass. You can imagine that sport made your throat pretty dry especially when you dance for hours.

...

The next morning you woke up in an empty bed. Jinnie was already up and probably at the company. It was your day off and on those days even though you were an early riser, you sometimes enjoyed sleeping long. As a nurse, a good sleep was rare.

With a good mood you danced through the apartment and cleaned it. You checked Jinnies schedule that he had sent you in the past so that you always know where he is and can easily visit him.

Maybe you can watch him practice with his group later in the afternoon since it was a rare occasion due to work. He always loved when you support him. It only makes him more ambitious and hyped he had told you. And the other boys adored you. Especially Felix, Hyunjin's best friend or soulmate like they often state, was fascinated by you. Maybe that's because you lived until you were ten in Australia and then moved with your family to Korea.

He was also the first member Jinnie introduced you to. As his best friend, he knew from your relationship from the beginning and when he finally met you, he was even more convinced that you were the perfect match for Hyunjin.

But also Seungmin was like a brother to you. From the first moment you met the younger boy, you liked him with his cheeky attitude and the sweet toothy smile.

You figured that you should buy the whole group something to drink when you went to the studio. On the way, you stopped at a café and ordered drinks. You just sat in your car once again with the drinks on the passenger seat, when Felix called you.

"What's up, Lix?" You asked and started the car. "Are you coming to today's practice?"

"Yeah, on my way right now. Why?"

"I think Hyunjin is sick. He is totally pale and already vomited"

"I'm coming. I'll be there in 10" you answered concerned. You knew Jinnie. Whenever he is sick, he wants to keep going. He just works him to death because he won't admit that he was ill and needs to rest.

Balancing the nine cups in both hands, you managed to go through the security that already knew you and bid you politely hello and and took the elevator to the floor where the studio was. You already knew the way there after walking it hundreds of times.

In the hallway, you could already hear the music and the squeaking of the shoes. With a foot, you pushed the door open and yelled a greeting over the loud music.

Seeing the drinks in your hands, they quickly scrambled to you in no time and helped you. You spread them and you all sat down. Happily, they drank like they lived in a desert with no water at all.

They all were already sweaty and chatted.

Jinnie kneeled beside you with his americano in one hand as he layed his head against your shoulder.

"Hey baby. Is everything ... was that a shudder?"

You asked him. His clothes were wet with sweat but occasionally he shuddered like he was cold.

Concerned, you placed your drink beside you and touched his forehead to feel how warm he was. And he was warm, it felt like his skin was burning under your touch. A shudder jolted through him again.

"Are you feeling bad? Can it be that your sick Jinnie?" You asked and brushed a stray hair strand back out of his face. Your eyes danced over his pretty face. He was indeed pale.

He just shook his head and murmured that he will go to the bathroom quick. The first steps were staggering but then he felt suddenly nauseous and covered his mouth and paced through the room to get to a washroom. You had observed that and jumped up to follow him.

You found him in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting. He gagged and emptied the contents of his belly. You sat next to him and rubbed his back while his body tensed up with each gag. You brushed soothingly through his wet hair.

Drained out, he leaned against the bowl, taking shaky breaths.

"It's okay, baby." You cooed.

You helped him up after some time and he got rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth through rinsing it out. Some tears ran down his cheeks as he breathed heavily.

"Everything alright?" Chan asked as you two walked back into the room.

"You look like shit" Seungmin stated and continued sipping on his drink. "I'm okay" he answered with a hoarse voice. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"Definitely, you didn't just puked your guts out" you said ironically.

"I told you he was ill!" Felix shouted and rubbed your boyfriends shoulder.

"You should rest. You can't dance when you're ill" Chan told him.

"Come, let's go home and rest" You exclaimed and circled his waist with one arm.

Only after the whole group literally forced him to go home, he followed you quietly to your car. You opened the door for him and went to the driver seat to take your poor boyfriend home.

The whole drive was completely quiet as Jinnie rested his head against the window and tried not to get nauseous. He felt bad for leaving practice. With the new comeback, he didn't want to disappoint his fans, his friends and you. Especially not you. You were the most important person to him and you should be proud of him so when someone asks you about him, you should be proud to say that he was your love. That was all he wants.

As you parked the car, you turned to your boyfriend. He was still pale but the nausea seemed to fade. His eyes were closed and even though he looked exhausted, he was like an angel. So beautiful. Though with his newly red dyed hair he looked more like a devil. Just the sweet horns and the tail were missing.

You rounded the car and opened his door. His eyes fluttered open and you smiled. Like a puppy, he followed you to your apartment while you carried his bag.

Unlocking the door, you let him in and took your shoes off. You leaned his bag against the wall.

"Wanna take a shower first?" You questioned because he was still sweaty due to practise and he shouldn't catch an even worse cold. He nodded and went through the hallway to the bedroom to get some comfy new clothes. Meanwhile, you let some water in the bathtub and searched for the bath oil that helps with colds. Immediately, the bath was filled with the smell of eucalyptus and sage.

You gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll cook you something light. If anything happens just say something and I'll come" Patting his hair, you leaved the room and started looking through your refrigerator and the kitchen cabinets to see if you had all the ingredients.

Fortunately, you got everything for a chicken soup. You brew a chicken broth with the meat and in the meantime you chopped leek, carrots and celery. Then, you added them to the pan and brought the noodles to boil.

The soup was nearly finished as Hyunjin returned. He circled your waist with his arms and layed his head on his shoulder.

"What's up, baby? Feeling better?" You asked and stirred the soup another time. "Yeah, a bit. Smells great, honey"

"Thank you" He let you go as you turned around to face him. Gently, you touched his forehead to check if he got a fever. And he was indeed burning up. From a cabinet, you took a thermometer and measured his temperature.

"You have a fever, baby" you stated and send him to bed so that he could rest.

Soon, you filled a bowl with soup for him and brought it him along with some medicine against the cold.

He sat up and slowly ate the food. You hoped that he could keep it in his stomach and he didn't need to vomit from it. And he definitely shouldn't take the medication without some food in his belly.

When he was finished, he took the medicine.

"Thanks, honey" he said and gave you a tired smile.

"Wanna watch our series?" You asked and quickly brought the empty dish in the kitchen. You will clean them later, now you wanted to spend time with your love.

He agreed and you took your laptop with you. You jumped beside him under the warm comforter and placed the laptop next to you. You started your current kdrama and cuddled further into the cushion.

Some time passed and Jinnie still held some distance to you. Usually, he would be all over you by now. Slightly, you turned your head and observed your boyfriend. His entire body was under the comforter with only his head out and concentrated on the screen.

"Everything alright?" You asked and he turned his attention to you.

"Yeah, just a bit cold"

You lifted your arm and signalled him to come to you so that you could function as his personal heater.

He shook his head and murmured. "Don't wanna infect you"

You heart swelled at how he still looked out for you. A loving smile danced over your lips.

"Come honey, can't let you freeze. I'll heat you up" Finally, he came closer and layed his head on your chest while his hands caressed your hips.

You touched his forehead to check if his fever was still high. But the medicine seemed to finally kick in. Then, you let your hands travel to his red dyed hair and combed through the silky strands.

He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the physical contact.

"I'm sorry" he mentioned after some time. "What?"

"I'm sorry for ruining your day off. You already have enough patients to care for"

"No! You didn't ruin anything!" You held his head in your hands and caressed his cheeks.

"I love to take care of you. In fact, I love to pamper you"

"I love you" he answered and let his hands run up your sides.

"I love you too" you told him and placed a loving peck on his forehead.

[temporarywelcome]

12 Fics of Christmas Day 4 - Kai Anderson

"Safe"

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Winter had one request from Kai, which was to keep their cheerful neighbor, reader, safe and out of all the cult business. Kai agrees, though he can't stand reader and her holiday cheer.

WARNINGS: language, brief violence

____

Of course, he was a grinch.

Is it really that much of a shocker to realize Kai Anderson absolutely hated holidays? Especially Christmas. 

No, don’t be shocked. 

Kai Anderson hated Christmas with a burning passion, but there was one thing he hated more than Christmas. Well, one person. 

Y/N L/N. 

She was his neighbor across the street, and unlike him, she loved Christmas. Every year, she and her parents took the time to make their home into a little winter wonderland, something Kai was convinced had to be a fire hazard. An epileptic seizure waiting to happen. He had hoped when her parents struck gold (a lottery ticket win) and moved out, she would leave too, but of course, those assholes had to leave the house to her. 

He fucking hated her. 

Kai hated her, but his sister, Winter, for some reason, loved Y/N, thinking she was oh so cool and oh so sweet for whatever dumb reason. Winter liked her so much that one day she asked Kai a big question. 

“Hey, Kai?”

“Yeah?” he replied gruffly, glaring out the window. He held a steaming mug of coffee in hand, watching as Y/N began putting up Christmas lights. 

“I have a request,”

“And that is?” he scoffed, bringing the mug to his lips and blowing before taking a small sip of the bitter substance. 

Winter idly stepped next to him, “I believe, since you’re my big brother, you should grant immunity to a person of my choosing,” she began slowly, glancing at him to see his reaction. 

“What?” he laughed, though there was no humor. No smile, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Like, keep them safe. From all of this,” she gestured around the home, in reference to the bustling cult members walking around. 

He shrugged in response, “Fine. Whatever. What harm can one person do? Who’ll it be?” 

And so Winter pointed out the window, and Kai grimaced. Y/N. Winter was pointing at Y/N. “Seeing her happy makes me happy. She’s contagious. Keep her alive. Please?” 

God fucking dammit. 

___

Winter had gone off on her own business, Kai doing the same, however, a few hours later, he found himself looking out the window, eyes widening when he noticed Y/N, who he observed to be incredibly clumsy, on the roof of her house. 

Shit!

He came scuttering down the street, stopping when he was in her yard, “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

She looked down at him with that million dollar smile she always had,”Oh! Hey, Kai! I’m just decorating for the holiday season!”

“It’s not even December!” he groaned, “Get the fuck down before you fall!” 

“I’m fine,” she replied, waving him off, “Don’t you worry about me! You can go right back to what you were- eek!” she lost her footing, Kai immediately holding his arms out in efforts to catch her.

“Shit shit shit I told you-!” he sighed in relief as she found her balance, “Get the fuck down!”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, “Besides, someone’s gotta put up these inflatables!” 

“Don’t make me climb that ladder and bring you down here myself,” he threatened. 

She pouted, “The decorations need to go up!”

“Get your ass down here. I’ll fucking do it,” he found himself saying. 

And so he found himself securing an inflatable sleigh with inflatable reindeer and inflatable elves and an inflatable Santa, cursing to himself the whole time.

Why the fuck was he doing this? For Winter of course!

Why the fuck was he putting up fucking Christmas decorations? For Winter of course!

Why the hell didn’t he leave once he made sure Y/N was safe? For Winter of course!

____

The next incident was a week later. 

A lengthy meeting had just ended in the basement, Kai scowling like usual when the doorbell rang. He was going to have one of his disciples answer, but something, he wasn’t sure what told him to. 

So he opened the door, scowl deepening when he noticed who it was. Y/N.

“Hey, Kai!” she exclaimed, wearing that same stupid bright smile, “I’m sorry to intrude in your home, but I was really wondering if I could use your oven? Something is wrong with mine and there’s no one available to look at it till tomorrow, but I have an event tomorrow I need to bake cookies for-” she babbled, stopping when he raised a hand to silence her. 

“No,” there was no fucking way he was going to let Little Miss Sunshine over here into his house with all of his disciples around. It then occurred to him she might try to use her own oven anyway and cause an accident that could harm her, or ask a different neighbor to use their oven and they turn out to be terrible people, doing something terrible to her.

Yes, he would have to do something about this. For Winter, of course. 

“I’ll look at your oven,” he said simply. 

“Really?” her eyes lit up, “Thank you, Kai! That would be great!”

And so he found himself grabbing his (his dad’s) toolbox, marching into her home and fixing her oven (with the help of a YouTube tutorial, he didn’t know what he was doing). He had planned to leave after that, but once he saw her trying to cut a stick of butter and almost knicking her finger, he then found himself taking the knife from her and cutting the appropriate amount for her. 

And then he found himself sitting at the island, watching her work the recipe as they talked. He was just making sure she was safe. For Winter. Yes. That’s what it was. 

That was all it was.

___

Two weeks after that incident, around the middle of December, he was walking down a street, gloved hands shoved into his pockets, when he heard arguing. 

In curiosity, he made his way over, eyes narrowing when he noticed these two shrimpy looking guys all up in a girl’s business, tugging at her coat. Not just any girl, Y/N. Those fucking assholes. 

“Can you please leave me alone?” she asked quietly, letting out a squeak as one gripped her waist roughly. 

What the shit?

He didn’t even realize his feet were moving until he was grabbing at the guy and shoving him down, hands fisting the other’s shirt. He saw red. He didn’t know why he was so pissed, but he was pissed, punching the shit out of those two losers till he felt the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Y/N, sniffling, looking as vulnerable as ever. 

And he found himself putting his hands on her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes, “Are you okay?” 

She softly nodded, looking away, “Y-Yeah, just a bit shaken up, I guess? Thank you for helping me,”

“Of course, of course,” What the fuck was he doing? He was only this nice to people when he wanted something, that was it. “I’ll walk you home, c’mon,” 

And so he found himself walking down to their block, arm protectively around her shoulder and keeping her close. And when she nervously asked if he could stay with her for a bit, he found himself agreeing right away. 

What the fuck was he doing now? Why the fuck was he sitting on the couch scrolling through the channels on the TV while she made hot cocoa? Why the fuck was he accepting it with a little half-smile, allowing her to pick the movie? Why the fuck was he watchimg some stupid Christmas movie? 

Because he needed to make sure she was safe. Because Winter said so. Yes, of course. Of course that’s all it was. 

That was all it was. 

_____

When Christmas Eve rolled around, Kai was lounging by himself in the living room, Winter doing who knows what in her bedroom. 

He scrolled through the channels tiredly, trying to find a good fucking movie that wasn’t fucking Christmas movie, and of course, the doorbell had to ring.

Why wasn’t he surprised when he opened the door, finding Y/N L/N staring up at him with those gorgeous fucking eyes? 

“What is it?” he asked, already tapping his foot impatiently. 

“Hey, Kai!” she began, as cheerful as usual, “I’m hosting a Christmas dinner, and I noticed you and Winter are alone?” 

He chuckled quietly. This happened every single year. And every single year he slammed the door in her face and went back to the TV.

But this time, his thoughts began to whirl. 

Who was even at her house right now? What if there were some bad people in there willing to hurt her? Or what if something got caught on fire? 

He had to be there, to make sure Y/N was safe. For Winter, of course. 

And so he found himself getting his sister, allowing Y/N to lead them to her home. And he found himself seated next to her during the dinner. Fuck, he even laughed at one point. What the fuck was wrong wrong with him?

And then he found himself reaching under the table, taking her hand from her lap and lacing their fingers.

For Winter, of course.

Fucking bullshit.

____

The next morning, the doorbell fucking rang again, and Kai let out a growl, stomping down the stairs and to the door. Swinging it open, already expecting some group of religious people trying to convert him to whatever, he was ready to snap.

Until he saw who it was. Y/N L/N. Fuck.

“Merry Christmas!” she chirped, holding out two carefully wrapped presents. One for him and one for Winter. 

This isn’t the first time this happened. She has gotten him and Winter Christmas presents before, and he of course got pissed and shooed her off. 

But not this time. 

Instead, he took the presents from her hands, lips curling ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile, “Thank you,” he felt like shit. Like every year, he didn’t get her a present. He never did. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N!” Winter exclaimed from behind, clamping a hand on Kai’s shoulder, “We got presents for you too. Why don’t you get them, Kai?” she said, batting her eyelashes at her brother in a very obvious way. 

Presents?

Hesitantly, Kai placed down the gifts Y/N had got them, making his way to where Winter was pointing at. Right on the counter, two wrapped gifts. Both addressed to Y/N, however, one was neatly wrapped with Winter’s name on it. The other was rather messy, stating it was from him. He smirked softly, Winter really made sure it looked like he had gotten the present for Y/N, getting his handwriting down and everything. 

And so he found himself handing Y/N the gifts, watching the way her eyes lit up. She looked so fucking cute.

So maybe he didn’t just keep her safe for Winter’s sake.

_____

Tags: @envy-of-greed @bohnerrific69 @loveofcherry

[danielmolloystits]

hello!! i am SheOfBadIdeas and this is my IWTV fic masterlist <3

i primarily write devil's minion (armand/daniel), though there are a couple of other pairings thrown in here for good measure. click through to see what i've been up to!

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

Series & Chaptered Fics

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

rewind & play it back - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~21.6k, Rating: E). Series, ongoing, 2/3 works. Post-Season 2. Devil's Minion Era happened.

Part One: reprise. - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~13.7k, Rating: E). Completed, 4/4 chapters. Armand POV. A take on the events leading to Daniel's turning, including a walk down memory lane. You might enjoy this fic if you like poetic prose mixed with depraved smart. Comes with art by @ladyofthecreeddraws <3 But when he met Daniel, he had already shattered into the pieces of himself that are loud, insincere, cruel. The pieces that are not worth loving, some part of his mind whispers, in a voice that could belong to Louis or to Lestat or to any number of others whom he has tried to fit inside of himself and keep, an endeavor which has only ever ended in the same blistering disappointment. And now—as he is sitting in the wreckage of another failed attempt at shaping himself into a home, covered in plaster dust from an outburst of rage only a fraction as bright as that which he deserved—now all there is left in front of him is Daniel.

Part Two: redux. - (Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Lestat, Louis/Lestat, WC: ~8k, Rating: E). Ongoing, 4/? chapters. Vampire Old Maniel. Daniel POV. The immediate aftermath of Daniel's turning and Armand's absconding. You might like enjoy fic if you like poetic prose mixed with humor and angst. Armand feeds him from the wrist and Daniel is unmade, pulled like the end of a slipknot until he once more is a thing unformed. A blank slate, tabula rasa, wiped clean. A sand castle at high tide. A snake eating its own tail. Everything eats itself in the end, comes back to where it started, and Daniel is no different. His blood is Armand’s blood is his blood, and when he gulps down mouthful after mouthful, Armand’s hand feverishly massaging his throat to aid the weak, dying muscles in forcing it down, it is himself he is drinking from.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

as soft as leather, as plush as lace - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~6.5k, Rating: E). Completed, 2/2 fics. Devil's Minion Era (1970s-1980s).

Part One: thin like lace & twice as tight - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~3.6k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Daniel POV. Pure smut. Daniel in lingerie and a heaping helping of blood play thrown in for good measure. Made in collaboration with the brilliant, brilliant art of @ladyofthecreeddraws He’s trying not to think about it. He doesn’t want to spoil the reveal prematurely, after all. But it’s hard not to, with the satiny spandex ribbon that’s currently nestled between his ass cheeks insistent on riding up to give him a constant wedgie. “Is there a reason you’re singing ‘Femme Fatale’ so loudly in your head right now?” Armand asks from across the dinner table, a bemused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is our conversation boring you that terribly?”

Part Two: soon, i'll be your dog - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~2.9k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Armand POV. Smut. Lingerie and collaring and leashing. More art by @ladyofthecreeddraws, who continues to own my entire soul. Honestly I'm not sure what else you might want tbh. Armand looks down at him. At his flustered, pretty face, at his slightly parted lips. He wants to put the tip of his thumb in Daniel’s mouth, so he does, Daniel immediately opening up wider to allow the digit to slide over his tongue. So good, Armand thinks, his eyes darkening as he watches Daniel hollow his cheeks and suck. So perfect, and so very mine.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

Such Unfortunates - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~15.5k, Rating: E). In progress, 2/12 chapters. Human Rehab AU with @shineforthee

Angst! Hurt/Comfort! Holistic approaches to recovery! The human AU set in rehab in Vancourver in the early 2000's you didn't know you needed but which you 100% do.

There’s an ice pick scraping at the inside of Daniel’s skull. The lights are too bright even from behind closed eyelids, beating down on him hot and cruel until sweat pools in every cavity of his body—which is a lot of places, he thinks, because it feels as though he’s made of holes right now. His heartbeat pounds in his abdomen like a SWAT team with a battering ram and his skin sits so tight over the meat of him that he wishes he could tear it off.

He’s had better days, to put it mildly.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

the orpheus and eurydice of recollection - (Armand/Daniel, WC: 12k, Rating: E). Completed, 66/66 chapters. Post-Season 2.

Don't look back, don't look back, don't look back.

A Devil's Minion "Choose Your Own Adventure" fic with multiple paths and endings.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

i'll keep your pillow warm - (Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis, WC: ~37k, Rating: E). Completed, 11/11 chapters. Dubai Era. Daniel POV. A canon rewrite, starting when Armand is pretending to be Rashid and continuing therefrom, wherein Armand and Daniel are committing boatloads of infidelity. You might enjoy this fic if you enjoy the idea of Old Maniel being free use and giving Armand a truly absurd number of blowjobs, and also all the drama of cheating. When Armand was performing earlier, starring in the most insufferable one man show the journalist has ever borne witness to, he had seemed akin to a stranger—utterly foreign, so incredibly different from the boy Daniel had begun to care for. But as he is right now, unraveling on Daniel’s tongue, the vampire is almost nostalgic to him. Like sinking into the warmth of his childhood blanket.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored - (Daniel/Lestat, Armand/Daniel, WC: ~3.2k, Rating: E). Completed, 2/2 chapters. Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Daniel POV. Daniel fucks Lestat to make Armand jealous. It works. You might enjoy this fic if you like humor and smut and obvious ploys to piss of 500-year-old vampires (that work).

“No.” Lestat grabs one of Daniel’s hands in both of his own, making such intense eye contact with the journalist that it starts to grow uncomfortable. “You deserve better. You must understand this.”

“Okay,” Daniel agrees, shifting a little in his seat. Anything to move past this point in the interaction. “I deserve better.”

“Good,” Lestat says, nodding resolutely to himself. “This is why you should let me fuck you.”

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

One-Shots!

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

in the graveyard that is his body - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~1.6k, Rating: M). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Armand POV. Armand dissociates. Daniel grounds him. You might enjoy this fic if you like poetic prose and hurt/comfort. Made in collaboration with @ladyofthecreeddraws, which is to say, there's truly incredible art attached to this fic.

“What do you need, baby?” Daniel asks, his voice delicate as a soap bubble. Armand can just barely feel the puff of air on his neck as he speaks. He can feel, too, where Daniel’s hand rubs at his arm lightly, where his caress brings goosebumps to the surface. The parts of him that Daniel touches light up like a switchboard, like isolated stars in a constellation that hasn’t been drawn yet. Each point of contact something sharp and alive in the graveyard that is his body.

“Touch me,” Armand begs, turning his face into Daniel’s chest. Listening to the soft thud of his heartbeat, the same heartbeat that flutters beneath Armand’s rib cage. Their heart, their heart, their heart. “Everywhere, please.” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ looks just like an angel - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~5.6k, Rating: E). Devil's Minion Era (1970s). Priest!Armand. Smut. Dubious Consent. Daniel POV. Armand pretends to be the priest running Daniel's NA, and then they have sex about it. You might enjoy this fic if you like Armand's gaslighting mindfuckery and him abusing a position of power over Daniel. Also religious imagery.

“The next step is coming to believe in a power greater than yourself.” The priest’s hands are clasped together, his thumbs twiddling idly as he speaks, “One that is capable of delivering you from your illness.”

“So, what,” Daniel deadpans. “I’ve gotta convert to Catholicism?”

“If you’re so inclined,” Father Armand responds wryly, as if he’s privy to some great secret that eludes the poor, ailing addict. Daniel wonders in that moment how old the other man is. He can’t have too many years on Daniel, surely, but he seems so much older that it’s almost a little unnerving. “However, it could be anything, really; your love for your family, your will to live. It could even be me, if you wanted.”

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

call that a dinner date - (Armand/Daniel/Original Female Character, WC: ~2.5k, Rating). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2. Established relationship.

Daniel POV. Daniel gets dinner for him and Armand. Threesome and murder ensues.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ to pull sound from a still heart - (Armand/Daniel, WC: 1.6k, Rating: M). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2. Established Relationship. Armand POV. He's having a bit of an identity crisis and Daniel praise kinks him through it. You might enjoy this if you like tooth-rottingly sweet fluff that is also smutty.

Armand’s voice cracks. “Then how can I know myself?” There’s another question lying underneath it, one he can’t bring himself to voice—how can I know if I am worth anything? Daniel seems to hear it anyway.

“Well,” he starts, before placing a soft peck on Armand’s clavicle. “I’d say I know you pretty well. And aside from the fact that you never help with laundry, I think the whole package is kind of great.” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

the best policy - (Armand/Daniel, WC: 1.5k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Devil's Minion Era. Established Relationship.

Daniel asks Armand to be more honest. Armand complies in brutal fashion.

“You keep missing the prostate,” Armand comments flatly. He’s practically as still as a statue, moving only from the force of Daniel’s steady, measured thrusts. “With stunning consistency.”

And, Christ, Daniel’s had about as much as he can take of the color commentary. Before he can think better of it, he grunts a harsh, “Shut up.”

“Would you rather I lie to you, Daniel?” Armand asks sweetly, looking back at him over his shoulder. “I can do that if you’d like.”

Daniel isn’t stupid enough not to realize that’s a trap.

“So there is a floor, then.” His voice is still perfectly even as he plucks the thought from Daniel’s mind. “I was beginning to grow concerned.”

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

make a bow with old, cut ties - (Armand/Daniel/Louis, WC: ~3.2k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Devil Minion Era. Established Relationship. Infidelity/Polyamory Negotiations.

Armand reintroduces Louis and Daniel.

Daniel feels it the most on nights like this. The guilt, he means.

Right now, a soft rain pitter-patters on the roof of the penthouse hotel room they’re in, tripping out a delicate melody that almost sounds like the tinkling of bells. Armand is curled up next to him, blood-warm and satiated, a pleased smile stretched over his pretty face as he nestles further into Daniel’s chest. Their hands tangle together, bony knuckles on bony knuckles; their legs braid so that Armand can press his still-cold feet to Daniel’s calves. It feels domestic. It feels real. As he stares down at Armand, Daniel’s heart squeezes with an overwhelming fondness for the vampire who has set up shop in his life and refuses to leave.

And somewhere, behind all of that, the guilt. It twists his guts up in a knot, makes his stomach do that swoopy roller coaster thing. Except it doesn’t stop, it just feels like he’s in a never-ending free fall. Because Armand holds him like a lover but keeps him like a secret. Because he knows that somewhere out there is Armand’s actual boyfriend.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ glaciers melting in the dead of night - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~5.2k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2, Episode 5. Dubai Era. Armand POV. This is really just a BDSM fic where Daniel gets to dom Armand in the Dubai penthouse. Bondage and orgasm denial. You might enjoy this if you think Daniel should get to top more.

“All this time, and you haven’t changed a bit.” The words fire from his mouth like gunshots into still air, his lips finally curling into the contemptuous sneer he’s been keeping at bay for the past several minutes. “Still nothing more than an eager black hole. An unremarkable, wanting mess of a man.”

What is it like, he wonders, to be so out of control of your own desire? To be such a slave to your own basest impulses? After five hundred years, he’s forgotten the feeling. Suddenly, he is covetous to remember. ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ before you shake my tomb - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~1.7k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Devil's Minion Era. Non-Con. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Armand POV. Daniel has been getting increasingly careless in his pursuit of cheap thrills, and Armand steps in to try to curb his impulses for the better. Somnophilia ensues. For the love of god, read the tags on this one. You might enjoy this if you're into really fucked up power dynamics and Armand "knowing what's best" for Daniel.

Daniel has grown reckless.

He can sense the phantom press of Armand at the fringes of his consciousness, just barely there like the whistle of wind through rustling leaves. Holds snippets of the vampire in his fractured mind and longs to understand the full picture of him—his form, his contours, the shades and hues that fill the lines of him. He knows Armand is there, but he doesn’t know what he is. Doesn’t know if he tastes like redemption or reckoning, if he tastes like both wrapped together like the threads in a braid. ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ a study in collectivist post-dissolutive reconciliation tactics - (Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Lestat, Lestat/Louis, Lestat/Armand, Louis/Armand, Daniel/Louis, AKA the Diabolicule, WC: ~1.3k, Rating: M). Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Polycule Fic. 3rd Person Omniscient POV. The Polycule Breakup Sex Fic. You might enjoy this if you like humor and crack.

It is harder than one might expect to divide the property of four vampires after a break-up. They’ve been at it for hours and are still only halfway through their wardrobe.

“Lestat, I’m assuming this ‘Baby Slut’ crop top belongs to you?” Louis asks with a raised eyebrow, holding the offending garment up for inspection.

“Mmm, non,” Lestat replies. “Though I would look fantastic in it, I’m sure.”

Daniel snorts. “Well, it isn’t mine.”

They all look to Armand.

“It was on sale,” he sniffs haughtily. “And the shopgirl said it made me look ‘cunty.’” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

and that's all for now!! mwah mwah mwah thank you for taking the time to peruse <3 drop me a comment if you end up reading any of them :)

[devildomwriter]

Satan Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Satan was born from a combination of Lucifer’s intense wrath and him tearing off his wings, this gave Satan flesh for a body

2. Physically, Satan is the youngest but he is ranked fourth as he is fourth strongest of the seven brothers

3. Satan often fears he is nothing but a lesser copy of Lucifer

4. Satan’s wrath was so out of control after his birth his brothers did anything they could to stop his rages, including tying him in chains and stuffing him in a locker, knocking him out, or holding him underwater until he passed out

5. When Satan discovered cats he burst into Levi’s room demanding to know more about this

6. Satan believes Leviathan is mature in the way he focuses on other people’s opinions

7. Satan has always been a demon and accepting wrath as part of who he was so he did not struggle with his sin like his brothers did

8. Satan treasures the first things his brothers ever gave him

9. Satan’s tail is spiky and you can be injured touching it if you aren’t careful

10. Satan gets angriest over petty inconveniences

11. Simeon believes that Satan always only wearing one sleeve of his jackets is his way of rebelling

12. Satan has a tendency to overthink things

13. Satan does his best to avoid arguing with his brothers even when they annoy him

14. Satan is compared to a cat by his brothers due to his tendency to show up in completely random places when you least expect

15. Satan has connections in almost every industry as he’s easily able to socialize and make friends

16. Satan claims his books are organized in a way he understands

17. Once Satan’s books collapsed on him and he stayed there for several days relaxing

18. Satan enjoys the fine arts and likes going to art museums

19. Satan enjoys theatre and the opera

20. Satan easily gets his hands on rare and cursed objects to the point it impresses Lucifer

21. Satan has successfully cursed Lucifer several times. The worst of them being when he transferred his pain from Solomon’s cooking to Lucifer.

22. Satan originally looks down on manga but changes his mind after reading a bunch of manga Levi switched out in his room as a prank

23. Satan loves watching dramas and mysteries, especially Mid-Fall Murders

24. Due to watching crime shows regularly Satan believed that when dining in the human world you tell the waitress you’d like “the usual” and they’ll know what you mean

25. Although originally Satan complains he’s never beat Diavolo in chess, it’s implied he finally beats him in season 3

26. Satan has a major inferiority complex when it comes to Lucifer which causes him to often doubt himself

27. Satan is subscribed to Monthly Devil Architect’s Digest

28. Satan was once cursed to see everything as cats, he wasn’t the least bit bothered

29. Satan gifted Lucifer a scarf that was cursed to grow eternally

30. Satan doesn’t seem to realize how terrifying his anger is when he is visibly confused as to why his brothers are hiding

31. Satan has hoarded cats in the past and is no longer allowed to have any

32. Satan feeds a local cat he has named Sir Cat

33. Satan gives MC instructions on feeding many of the cats who come by serenity manor

34. When attempting to turn Simeon’s cafe into a cat cafe he “borrowed” a bunch of cats from witches. He was distressed when they were all returned to their owners.

35. Satan once fell asleep with a cat in public and ended up covered in Hell Zakura petals. Solomon thought it was cute.

36. Satan cursed a pizza deliverer for putting pineapple on their pizza

37. Satan desires to be on the receiving end of a loving headbutt by a cat in full force

38. Satan checks cat blogs before he goes to bed as they give him energy for the next day

39. Satan has to be told to stop using cat stickies as he puts them everywhere

40. Satan covered his and Belphegor’s laptops in cat stickers

41. Satan enjoys classical music, symphonies, and Ska music

42. Satan prefers food chunkier than smooth because it has more bite to it

43. Satan enjoys the bitterness of Dark chocolate

44. Satan has said his type is someone he can have a mutual understanding with when it comes to anger

45. Satan has had things thrown at his head multiple times in the game, some of these items include a pillow, a piece of trash, and a pile of pancakes

46. Satan hates baby talk, more specifically when Asmodeus uses it

47. Satan has inherited some of Lucifer’s memories and emotions

48. When Satan was cursed to stay close to Lucifer he would just stare and growl at Lucifer from the corner of the room

49. Satan’s antagonistic behavior towards Lucifer is somewhat compulsive as even he wishes he didn’t dedicate so much time to Lucifer but cannot stop himself

50. Satan let’s Belphegor sleep on his lap even though it annoys him

51. Satan learned how to read ancient human text from Solomon

52. Satan considers Mephistopheles an ally since they both dislike Lucifer

53. In a love survey on B’s Log Satan says he wants to “bind and monopolize” his lover and is the active one pursuing love

54. Satan cherishes relationship anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

55. In a relationship with obstacles, Satan chooses to face the difficulties with passion

56. When it comes to a lover, Satan said he would get jealous easily

57. Satan originally did not understand humans and assumed they’d all be fine receiving expensive items and gems as gifts and was angry when MC did not

58. Satan has ranked his favorite cat positions as stalk-straight tail, slow blink, making biscuits, head butting, and bellyflops

59. Satan secretly dislikes Green Peas

60. Satan is annoyed by the RAD Newpsaper Club account and has the notifications for it turned off

61. Satan says he tends to sleep on his stomach to avoid being hit in the face when his books randomly come avalanching down on him

62. Satan starts all his baths by washing his left arm

63. Satan’s daily activity is petting a cat

64. Satan’s dream is to have a cat

65. On sleepless nights, Satan calls MC because he finds their voice soothing

66. Satan’s motto is “Wisdom is the treasure of all generations.”

67. Satan’s rage emits so much energy it’s too much for humans to handle and can shake buildings and break things without getting near them

68. Satan sends cursed chain mail to Lucifer daily

69. When Mammon could only speak cat, Satan was called to help and he spent the day happily playing with cat toys with Mammon

70. Satan became enraged with Raphael when he was compared to Lucifer

71. Satan is very knowledgeable when it comes to the constellations and the specific stars among them

72. Satan believes Easter is the perfect excuse to throw eggs at Lucifer

73. Satan looks forward to fall as he believes it’s the best season for reading

74. Satan has trouble eating something if it looks like a cat

75. Satan always has a bag of cat treats with him wherever he goes

76. Satan seems to remember exactly where he left off in a book when he falls asleep reading. In an interview with B’s Log he says “Yesterday I was in the mood for The Complete Book of Cat's Paws, but I fell asleep on the Havana Brown page, around line no. 27.”

77. Satan sometimes hums the theme song to mid fall murders

78. Satan’s compliments often sound more like insults

79. Satan originally took Levi to be a nobody with no powers.

80. Satan once used Diavolo as a hostage

81. When Satan wanted to get MC a gift he offered to kill someone for them

82. Satan enjoys a railroad building mobile app

83. In the baseball game in the anime, Satan’s team lost 0 to 666 but Satan still claims it’s the game where he trumped Lucifer

84. Satan owns a book that can enter the memories of whoever first opens it

85. Satan built a life like snow sculpture of Lucifer out of spite, knowing Lucifer would feel uncomfortable

86. Satan once decorated the backyard with cat towers hoping it’d become a cat colony

87. Satan is the secretary of the RAD student council

88. Satan is the one who introduced the idea of second-hand/used bookstores to the Devildom.

89. Satan has a collection of priceless jewels that are rare in both the human world and Devildom. It’s not stated how he got his hands on them but he is alluded to being very wealthy by Leviathan

90. Believing they were lost deep in the forest, Satan initiated sex with MC but they were immediately after found by Beelzebub

91. Satan said if he was in a horror movie he’d be the silent killer “helping” the detectives and frame Lucifer for all the murders

92. Satan once got into a fight with Beelzebub over who liked Devilcat most

93. Satan once went to a riddle event with Solomon and MC

94. Satan bribed Barbatos with rare tea to let him go to the human world alone

95. In an interview with B’s Log he said his everyday small happiness is gaining new knowledge

96. Something Satan believes is absolutely not allowed in front of him is disrespecting cats and is quoted saying “Dare to make disrespectful remarks about cats in front of me. I’ll **** and **** your ****.” — B’s log

97. Satan’s three rules for his daily life are — Read books, play with cats, and make time for yourself

98. When asked if he prefers mature or child-like people, he states he prefers mature people and then immediately references Simeon

99. Satan is skilled with cooking stews and enjoys working with the variety of spices and herbs Barbatos gives him

100. Satan believes his composure makes him “cool” and that he only “very, very occasionally” loses his temper

[kumkaniudaku]

Picture Day

Summary: You and Yahya prepare for a special keepsake and new holiday memories. 

Pairing: Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3,159

Warnings: None.

Previous: NEIGHBOR’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This one is for @ghostfacekill-monger. If you're new to these characters, I'll shamelessly plug the series above. Enjoy.

If the Abdul-Mateen family was nothing else, they were a collection of Black folks with big personalities and a flair for the dramatic. Everything from how Yolanda and Senior's home was lit up with carefully placed string lights to the interior decor that Yolanda poured her heart and soul into for no other reason than to see how her grandchildren's eyes lit up when they stepped into her home. And to make their neighbors across the street, the Walters, seethe in jealousy when they step outside their home to see such an extravagant display of taste and wealth. But that was a different conversation to have over aged Cabernet after photos for the annual holiday card were wrapped and the ladies were left to their own devices while the men did whatever it was they did in Senior's parlor. 

Upstairs, as bodies whizzed from room to room to meet their strict 12:30 pm call time, Yahya chased a giggling toddler version of himself down the hallway before extending his long arms to pull the little one into the air just before he could reach the stairs for the third time that half-hour. 

"Damn, boy," he panted before wincing at the ache in his back as he stood up straight. "Remind me to tell your mama you need to run track in a few years. You got your daddy's speed." 

Yahya, half-dressed and already sweating from the stuffy sweater and playing wrangler for his rambunctious mini-me, looked down at his son's feet and noticed that he'd forgotten to add the one part of his outfit that would keep him from moving so fast. He'd learned to toddle but hadn't quite grasped the concept of doing so in footwear. 

He set off to consult the one person with supreme knowledge and authority in their shared household across town. 

In a junior suite on the first floor, he listened to you hum along to Gucci Mane's Christmas album at the bedroom's threshold, out of breath and at his wit's end. He knocked twice before speaking.

"Baby, where are Nasir's shoes?" 

"Next to his sweater." 

"Got it," Yahya answered, eyes still blank as if you had never given him an answer. He started to walk out but doubled back. "And if I were looking for his sweater, where would that be?" 

Holding a breastfeeding baby in one arm and pressing brightening concealer under tired eyes was your primary task that your man promised he wouldn't interrupt. But his oldest son was an adventurous, hard-to-wrangle rascal with all his features and a knack for wearing out even the most seasoned professional. 

Peeling your eyes from your vanity mirror, you looked over at him and his worried expression to offer a bit of reassurance. "I left it on the ottoman in the sitting room so he'll be distracted during his screentime."

When it came to your boys, every detail was tediously planned from sunup to sundown. Yahya still hadn't convinced you to make schedules for any other aspect of life like grocery shopping or tax paying, but motherhood was different. Motherhood was sacred and beautiful, and everything else you didn't expect when that pregnancy test came up positive not once but twice in three years of partnership.

Yahya smiled at your thoughtfulness before answering. "Thank you, baby. I promise to leave you alone now." 

"You're okay. That's why we work together. Come here." Yahya added a little spring to his step as he closed the short distance between you two, stopping just short for a silly little two-step before bending forward to meet your lips for a few quick pecks and leaving a couple for Tariq's forehead as he suckled from your breast. Your hand lingered on his cheek while you spoke. "You're a good man, Savannah. A good man." 

"What's crazy is that nigga was not a good man," he laughed. 

"Okay, but why did you ruin the moment?"

Yahya lifted his hands in surrender. "My fault, baby. Gas me up."

Affirmations of his worthiness as a husband and father murmured between quick kisses made Nasir giggle until both of you turned your attention to showering him in praise, too. He'd learned a few new words as the year ended. All of them expletives or some form of your shared pet names, but new words nonetheless. 

While the cute family moment pulled you away from getting ready, Amir walked past the room and doubled back to stop the lollygagging at his mother's behest. He wore the mantle of enforcer with pride. 

"Aye, man, y'all ain't ever heard of a call time? Don't have my mama looking for y'all. You know her sciatica actin' up."

"Her what?" 

"Don't make me repeat it. You know I got a heavy tongue." You tried but failed to contain your laughter, pulling Yahya in to join as he stood to readjust Nas on his hip. Amir feigned his offense with a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, so y'all are ableists? This is crazy." 

"No, you're just an idiot. I knew they adopted you," Yahya answered back, the taunting tone of a younger sibling thick in his voice and a childish grin to match. 

Amir scoffed and looked in your direction. "You see what happens when a nigga gets back cool with his daddy? He start actin' entitled and whatnot. Should've never allowed y'all to reconcile. I miss emotionally charged Christmas."

Yahya's jaw hung slack while you tucked both lips into your mouth to conceal the unruly laugh deep within your soul. It didn't matter how long you were part of their family; the jokes at the other's expense would never cease to amaze you. No one could eviscerate the Abdul-Mateen clan like the members within their close-knit circle. 

Though impressed with his older brother's quick wit, Yahya couldn't allow the annoyance in his expression to falter for even a moment. He pretended to laugh as he geared up for a retort that didn't quite come close to the earlier jab but fulfilled his need to feel victorious. 

"That's why Hassan is getting the house in the will." 

"You thought you did something. I knew that already. You just now gettin' into those rooms, my boy." 

Thwarted again. Yahya looked to you for backup while you carefully helped Tariq end his feeding session and returned your breast to its rightful home. "Amir, if you keep talking to my man like that, we gon' have an issue. You know what happened last time." 

"My fault, OG," he answered, tapping the space over his heart to signal his allegiance as memories of the night a few too many postpartum cocktails had you reliving the early days of your relationship with the family. "Y'all got it. I don't want no problems. You a good man, Savannah."

"That's what I said!"

A half-decade of family dinners, vacations, and game nights creating inside jokes and sharing funnies between kindred spirits was bound to result in some personality transfer. Still, Yahya could never, in a million years, predict that you and Amir would become two hosts for nearly the same brain. 

Yahya looked between the both of you, confused and amused at the sheer absurdity of the unlikely moment of deja vu. "I never should've introduced y'all. Now I'm married to Amir: The Sequel." 

"Oh, please," you scoffed as you turned back to the mirror. "I am way too fine to claim that position. No offense, Amir."

"I'm not gon' act like there's none taken. That hurt. Thought we were better than that, Tootie. At least I still got my nephews on my side." 

"You do not," Yahya answered, playfully shielding both boys from their uncle's affection. "I'm raising my kids to dislike you. This is a family that hates before we love. If nobody else gon' keep it going, I will. You know me."

While the youngest brothers fell into their typical back-and-forth exchange of jabs covered in an unmistakable love for one another, you let the familiar chatter surround you in the kind of warmth that could only be felt in the presence of family. 

To think that there was once a time when the family was split into factions too stubborn to have a civil conversation seemed like an alternate reality. You'd traversed the hardships of severed bonds to come out on the other end triumphant, with your relationship intact and growing by the minute. 

As chatter grew louder, more guests seeking refuge from Yolanda's iron fist trickled into an already crowded room. Hassan rounded the corner with Lourdes and Sha'Tarra in tow, two of them holding separate glasses of spirits you could've sworn were off-limits until the evening.

Hassan chimed in, loud and gregarious, courtesy of the expensive whiskey in his half-empty glass. "Damn, we having a meeting, and nobody told us?" 

"I always knew you liked Tootie more than me," Lourdes playfully accused Amir.

"You know they have a standing weekly lunch, right?" Tarra laughed as she rested against the quartz bathroom counter in her red satin dress that barely contained the seven-month pregnant belly she was starting to abhor. "Every Wednesday at Kismet downtown. Oh my God, I could go for some of their wings right now. Baby, can you order some for me? It's for AJ, and your mama is starving us." 

Amir placed a chaste kiss on his wife's forehead to placate her before delivering devastating news. "I love you so much, baby. But my mama is gone be the reason AJ goes to college. We makin' money, but we ain't making Ivy League tuition money yet. Here. Chew some gum. It'll fill you up."

The room lit up with laughter except for Tarra, who screwed her face and smacked the stick of gum meant to cure her hunger out of Amir's hand. You chuckled along as you swapped children with Yahya and focused on cleaning Nasir's face for the hundredth time. 

"If you want 'em, we packed some apple and carrot slices for Nas as a snack. They're in the loft and all yours." 

The mention of a worthwhile snack made Tarra giddy enough to wiggle through her excitement while brandishing a manicured middle finger meant especially for her husband on her way out the door.

"Thank you, girl. At least somebody cares about me."

"You always coming to the rescue. Are you trynna steal my shine," Hassan asked with a laugh. 

You shook your head. "Nah. I'm trynna steal Yahya's shine. You know he's the golden boy. I need them privileges for all my hard work keeping this family together."

"She's not wrong. Senior hasn't been this happy since…well, hell, I don't think I've ever seen your father this happy." Lourdes laughed. 

"Turned him into sitcom dad in three years. You really might be a magician. You do taxes, Tootie?" 

Loud laughter bounced off the bathroom walls at Amir's joke and the noticeable shift in Senior's behavior. A once hard man never known for pleasantries or extending kindness beyond his wife and grandchildren had blossomed into the quintessential loving grandfather. 

A grand smile big enough to rival the sun had found a permanent home on his lips since the day Yahya met you at the end of a short backyard aisle and pledged his love to you forever and always. He was there when each of his youngest grandchildren were born, spent birthday parties dressed as a host of characters, played with action figures and dolls, and made time for weekly appointments with all of his children, natural and inherited. 

Despite your humble denial that you had nothing to do with such a stark transition, you'd been credited with re-introducing the family to the best version of Senior they'd ever experienced. 

Especially by Yahya, who finally got to know his father in a way he'd always desired. 

"That's my baby," Yahya gushed, a silly grin gracing his face as he affectionately gripped your chin for a quick kiss. "You don't want her handling your money, though. She has no clue what a budget is." 

"Why would I need a budget?"

"You sound like your mother-in-law, young lady."

A booming voice projecting beyond a ridiculous faux Santa beard came into the room shortly before Senior's physical presence joined the growing party. A glass of whiskey in his hand matched his oldest son's, making for a silent toast from across the way as they took identical sips. 

He continued. "In here hiding from the lady of the house," he asked as he looked around the space at faces that gave answers that their mouths wouldn't dare utter. He took another sip and nodded. "This is a good spot. I usually do the cellar, but this works. She will find you, though." 

"She always does. She is basically Detective Stabler in a pair of Dior slippers." Yahya laughed, earning a smile from his father. 

An overlapping chorus of brief personal memories of being found by Yolanda amid a one-sided game of hide and seek. She always won no matter how they attempted to outsmart and evade her watchful eye. 

Quickly finding his collection of older children uninteresting, Senior turned his attention to Nasir and Tariq, pulling the infant from his youngest son's arms to speak at him in a high-pitched voice. 

"You win, my girl. Sorry, I ever doubted you. But using the baby is a dirty tactic."

"Who told you I played fair?"

"Touché."

Senior watched you and Amir exchange a handshake too complicated for his taste and screwed his face in growing confusion. "Win what? You two gambling again?" 

"They think Tootie's your favorite now. Yahya lost his spot at the top." Hassan cut in. 

The older man scoffed. "All of you are too old to be my favorite anything." 

"But if you had to choose, it's Tootie, right?" 

"I'm not answering that," he laughed before a quick pause to eye them all individually. He stopped at you and smiled, adding a wink before speaking again. "She isn't half bad if that's what you're asking." 

Another round of laughter and collective conversation proved fatal as Yolanda marched down the hallway with Macie in tow. The soft clicking of her heels across wood floors didn't register amongst the chatter until it was too late. Your attempt to signal the others was futile. All of you were caught again. 

Yolanda cleared her throat, freezing everyone in an instant. She folded her arms over her chest. "Is this what I get in return for all my hard work and planning? Are you hiding from me?" All in the room rushed to deny her accusation to no avail. She couldn't be fooled. "And then you lie to me. Am I nothing to you people?"

Her heavy dose of guilt worked how she'd intended, producing averted gazes and murmured apologies that made her bite back a triumphant smile. 

"That's why I came down here, honey," Senior lied as he approached her for a kiss she didn't return. "They don't listen. I'm so glad you came to back me up. Bad, bad children the who-" 

"You're laying it on thick. Stop while you're ahead."

"Yes, ma'am. Stopping now."

A tense silence hung in the room while they waited for Yolanda to unleash her wrath. You looked between everyone, your brain scrambling in a frantic search for words that could turn the snafu into more of a misunderstanding than an intentional slight. 

Finally, your mind drafted an appropriate response. "We just wanted to get out of your way, Ms. Yolanda. Amir came to tell us you were almost ready for us, just like you asked, but I know you need quiet for a masterpiece. We should start outside so the folks across the street can get a reminder on who really runs Christmas around here." 

The mention of the Walters family getting a glimpse of her kin all dressed in their holiday best brought back a competitive light to Yolanda's eyes as she smiled. 

"You're right. I like the way you think," she started, her gaze far off for a moment while she envisioned the looks on their smug faces. She slowly refocused and waved her hands in the air. "Wrap this up and do it quickly. We have photos to take! C'mon, Senior. And take off that ridiculous beard. It's giving me "the ick," as Macie would say."

A collective sigh of relief was released as Yolanda left the room with her granddaughter hot on her heels, imitating her every move as a last-ditch effort to score the Christmas gift at the top of her list. Senior turned to the group and gestured toward you as soon as she was out of earshot. 

"Now, can any of you do that?" 

He didn't wait to hear an answer. As quickly as he could pass Tariq back to Yahya, he was off to comply with his wife's strict instructions. 

One by one, the others trickled out, leaving behind various iterations of praise for your quick thinking and the recognition that you, in fact, had claimed the coveted throne with no worthy competitor in sight. 

As the room returned to comfortable quiet, Yahya turned to you as you stood from the vanity to get a final look at your gown. He called your name softly before capturing your hand in his to pull you flush to his body. 

A slow and thorough kiss connected your lips and tongues until he was confident that his actions had conveyed his point. But, just in case they didn't, he praised you with his words. 

"If I was gonna give up my spot, I'm glad it's to you." 

"I only wanna be queen of your heart, baby," you giggled. "The rest of this is just extra." 

He chuckled at your smooth talking. "You can't finesse a finesser, baby. Who do you think talked you into all this? You ain't married with kids for no reason." 

"Oh, please! Santa gave me all this. I had it on my list." 

"Yeah, right." 

Stolen kisses and lingering touches were cut short at a second call of their names from the hallway. Yahya reluctantly took the boys out of the bathroom's safety and into the winter chill, leaving you alone for a final moment of peace. 

You took a look at your reflection, allowing a small smile to creep across your lip as your eyes swept over every change in your body since a fated meeting in your old apartment building. Formal gowns for family photos. A wedding ring that glittered in the light. A crazy bonus family that loved you dearly. Extra weight from two safe births only a few short years apart. All from a quick conversation with the guy next door. 

"Thank you, Santa. This is cool or whatever."

Straightening the strap on your dress, you stood up a little straighter and laughed at yourself before flipping the light switch and joining your family. Santa had outdone himself yet again.

---

@earthformelanin​​ @mufasathatniggatho​​ @hidden-treasures21​​@justanotherloveaffair​​ @jozigrrl​​ @essaysbyciara​​@chaneajoyyy​​@determinednot2fall​​ @honey-lamb-k​​@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​​ @walkrightuptothesun@ghostfacekill-monger​​ @trillistb​​@shaekingshitup​​@purplehairgawdess​​ @xo-goldengirl​​@steampunkprincess147​​@twistedcharismaaa​​ @fandomfavesss​​@bugngiz​​ @lifelover4u​​@ljstraightnochaser​​ @l-auteuse​​ @itsjustyazz​​@energy-innerg​​@lahuttor @sagittariusroyalty@chrisgalore @grandadchadwick​​​ @blowmymbackout​​​@supersizemeplz​​​ @just-peachee​​​ @itskikilove​​​ @eyeknowmywrites​​​ @aanairb​​​ @blackburnbook​​​ @leahnicole1219​​ @lovedersha​​ @cant-decide-at-this-moment​​ @jasmindaughteroftheworld

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 792: Witness

Pag 1

1: I told you before, too

2: I believed I'd get to see Mountain King's race!!

You're kidding!

It's a cheering message written with chalk on the road!!

You wrote this in a hurry?

3: Anytime now, they'll come here soon!

We can see Manami-kun running from the first day!

Amazing, a serious battle between those two...

4: “History” needs “someone who sees it”

Pag 2

1: “A witness of the history”!!

Pag 3

1: They passed the 2km left point and it seems that now the mountain stage is narrowed down to them two

It narrowed down!

They're coming!

I'm so excited!

2: It's quite a long wait

3: I was looking forward to it during last year's second day's mountain stage

4: And before that, during winter, I purposely organized a race between you two, but in the end it didn't count because of the snow

Pag 4

1: Right now Hakone Academy's Manami is ahead

Sohoku's Onoda is following

Manami

2: Four-eyes

3: You bet your whole soul for this climbing race

4: You finally did it

Congratulations

5: You really chose this mountain on the first day ad your fight's place, huh?

Pag 5

1: And I, Toudou Jinpachi, Mountain's God, will make sure to see it with my own eyes!!

Pag 6

1: After this curve, the wind's direction will change!!

Pag 7

1: The trees are becoming lower!!

5: Ah-

Pag 8

3: The wind's direction will chamge!?

After this!?

4: You noticed

But it's already

Pag 9

1: too late!!

Pag 10

1: Manami-kun did a full acceleration in curve!?

2: Sooooo

3: reeeee!!

4: Spread....

Pag 11

1: your wings to the maximum!!

Pag 12

1: Hakogaku's Manami did a super acceleration!!

The distance between him and Mountain King-

What a strange acceleration!!

What was that just now?

Did he ride the wind?

2: -is spreading!!

3: I saw a pair of huge wings on his back!

Pag 13

2: Me too

3: 1700m left!!

Mountain King noticed the timing of Manami's acceleration, but was too late and is being left behind

Mountain King, do your best!!

Pag 14

1: Amazing, Manami-kun

He read the right place to attack...!!

2: His back is becoming smaller

3: He got stronger since last year

4: And even since that time he came on the Minegayama!!

5: For an instant, when Manami-kun accelerated, I saw “wings”....

6: and they looked three times bigger!!

Pag 15

4: You're amazing

5: Manami-kun!!

Pag 16

2: Huh

Mountain King was.... smiling... !?

Pag 17

1: Hum hum hum ♪

I've prepared too

Hum hum hum ♪

2: The anime I highly recommend, “Love Hime”... this year started its third season!!

Hum hum huum ♪

3: Yes ♪

“Love Him third season” opening song

4: Mitarashi in the afternoon ♪ It's a common story ♪ The princess has kinako* and brown sugar syrup ♪

“Morning princess scramble”

*(NdT.: roasted soybean flour)

5: What's going on with Mountain King...

He's saying something... he's speaking to himself!?

He's humming a song!?

6: Somehow his pressure suddenly grew!!

7: We met a long time ago ♪ you extended your knees and looked up ♪

I listened carefully to it and watched the PV

Pag 18

1: Definitely rise!! Love Hime ♪

'Cause you're the princess ♪

And I memorized both the lyrics and the melody!!

Pag 19

1: Look at Mountain King... what's with that cadence...

2: While singing...

3: he accelerated and went!!

4: I'm breathing hard... my legs hurt... but

5: Manami-kun...!!

6: During the training camp on our first year

I couldn't catch up to you

Pag 20

1: I always feel like I'm chasing you like this

2: Your cool white bike

Your figure from behind, running so happy and confidently

3: I've always been fascinated by your attitude

4: So.... wa... it

I still want to catch up to you

Pag 21

1: Wait, Manami-kun!!

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 13

It's a race to the finish line as we are nearing the end. I am quite proud of this little story. I started posting the weekend the Olympics ended and continued until almost Thanksgiving!

The final two chapters will come out tomorrow and Friday.

In this we have Steve learning progress is not a straight line, Dr. Hughes is brilliant, and Eddie's dreams come true.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

The year just flew by, with Steve and Eddie working in the off season. Andy and Haley called them crazy.

“You’ll only burn him out,” Haley said, “then he won’t make it to the trials, let alone the Olympics, Steve.”

“I know you think this gung ho approach is going to do the job,” Andy agreed, “but it’s just not sustainable. You’ll wear him out before it’s competition time again.”

Steve looked back and forth between them in open mouthed shock. “You guys honestly think I would take advice from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Fuck off.”

They were flabbergasted that he would speak to them that way, as if they hadn’t spent the last year mocking both Eddie and Steve’s progress in the pool.

Steve just shook his head and walked away. He was doing much better now. He could get in the pool up to his waist and duck under the lane divisions, but he couldn’t put his head under the water. He had even tried kneeling into it, but he had jumped out of the water so fast, he left a huge wake behind him.

It took him two more weeks after that to even put his toe in the water again.

He had never been so disappointed in himself. Not for him. Oh no. But for the look of pity on Eddie’s face when he turned around after having booked it to the lifeguard tower.

Dr. Hughes had admonished Steve for feeling that way. “Your recovery is not predicated on how Eddie feels about it. And I highly doubt it was pity, Steve. You know Eddie better than that. He was concerned for you. As I’m sure Robin was too.”

Steve was forced to acknowledge that he just wanted Eddie to be proud of his progress.

“Steve,” Dr. Hughes said gently, “we’re all proud of your progress. You can go into the water all the way up to your chest. That is a long way from freaking out over putting your foot in the water.”

He took a deep breath and let the words of encouragement slide over him like waves in the ocean. Oh how he wished the pool was just the ocean. Dark, fathomless and deep. Unknowable and therefore conquerable.

He explained the feeling to Dr. Hughes.

“The ocean doesn’t bother you?” he asked tilting his head to the side.

Steve frowned for a moment and then shook his head. “It’s not clear like pool water. I can’t see the bottom and know how far it is for me to drown.”

“Oh.”

A smile spread over Dr. Hughes face. “I’ve got the best idea.”

~

“What are these?” Steve said pulling out the weird goggles.

“They’re for tanning booths,” Eddie explained with a grin. “They’re so you can’t see.”

Steve frowned at them for a moment. “What am I not supposed to see?”

Eddie just continued to grin without saying a word. He put them over Steve’s eyes and led him through the halls. As they did, Steve started to hear waves crashing and the sound of gentle breeze.

“What the hell?” he asked, but Eddie continued to lead him on without a word.

He led Steve to the edge of something and that’s when he spoke.

“Just dive in,” he murmured. “It’s okay, we’re here for you.”

Steve was about to ask who else was there, but it didn’t matter. He trusted Eddie not have anyone there that would make fun of him. So he dived into the water and just swam. It felt so good to just let himself go. To just swim properly for the first time since the accident.

Then he touched a wall. He let his body sink and hit solid floor. The water only came up to his chest. But there was no way they would have let him dive in the endless pool or the kiddie pool.

He tore off the goggles and looked around. He was on the other side of the pool from the door.

“What the–”

On the side of the pool were Robin, Eddie, and surprisingly Dr. Hughes. Dr. Hughes was sitting in one of the folding chairs Steve often sat in during staff swims, Robin was standing next to him with her phone held out, and Eddie was crouched by the edge in case Steve panicked and needed to pulled out of the pool quickly.

He let out a startled laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “That was amazing!”

“You did it, pretty boy!” Eddie shouted. “You swam in the big pool.”

The sound of the waves and wind cut out and Robin put away her phone with a grin.

He waded over to the edge of the pool to where Eddie was crouched. “So I did. Was this your idea, Dr. Hughes?” he asked, looking around Eddie to the seated man.

He smiled fondly. “It was. We’ll slowly build you up to not needing the sound, then not needing the goggles. The brain for all its complexities can be easily tricked.”

Steve laughed out right. “That’s brilliant!” His smile turned into a grin as he looked up at Eddie.

“Uh oh...”

But before he could get out of arms reach, Steve grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the water. Laughing and splashing around.

Robin turned to Dr. Hughes and murmured, “Thank you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Hughes said. “He really wants to get better. To overcome his fears and that makes him...hmm...I’m not sure easier would be the right word. More teachable, perhaps.”

“Despite all his dad’s faults and trust me he had many,” Robin said solemnly watching her best friend, “Clint could tell Steve loved the water. Like really loved the water and he did everything he could to make that happen for Steve. It’s just too bad the bastard got so wrapped up in winning he forgot that.”

Dr. Hughes nodded. Steve was happiest in the water and if he could help him get that back even just a little, then Dr. Hughes considered it a success.

~

The Olympic trials had finally arrived and Steve was nervous as hell. Not only because Eddie was going against Jason Carver to be on the team and Billy being there, but because Bob Newby. He was one of the best and he was worried Eddie wouldn’t live up to his exacting standards.

Thankfully Bob came over right before the meet started to chat.

“I’ve been hearing some really good things about your boy, Eddie,” Bob said after they exchanged pleasantries.

Steve grinned. “He’s good, Bob. Like proper talented, good.”

“I can’t wait to see him,” he replied with a nod. “I was hoping to see another name on this roster, was a little sad you weren’t on it.”

Steve blushed. “If I felt better about that damn pool behind you, I probably would have. But I just can’t. Not right now.”

Bob gave his elbow a squeeze. “I feel that. I’m just glad that they offered the coach position to me first. Their second choice was Billy fucking Hargrove.”

Steve leaned his head forward in surprise and disgust. “Are you kidding me? He barely medalled, why would they want him?”

“I don’t know,” Bob said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Bribery. That would be the only reason for it. Straight up Olympic bribery, like fucking Salt Lake City didn’t blow the cover on that particular can of worms.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said. “I’ve got go get my boy ready.”

“We’ll talk more after the meet,” Bob said.

Robin walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Eddie is going to do just fine.”

Jason, who had been walking by, scoffed. “Your boy is throwing up chunks in the locker rooms.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Like your beloved coach wasn’t doing the same thing at the last Olympic trials and he still made it. So fuck off.” He waved his hands at Jason, who stomped off with a scowl.

Robin smirked. “He was throwing up because someone told him one of the other athletes was gay.”

Steve smirked back. “I’ll just go check in on Eddie. I’ll be right back.”

He walked into the looker room and everyone started pointing out the direction of the hurling. They knew who Steve was and they sure as hell knew who he was coaching this year.

“Eds?” Steve murmured walking up to the stall.

“Fuck man,” Eddie murmured. “Me and my band play to actual fucking crowds and I’ve never been this nervous before.”

“That’s because you’ve never had the chance to be seen on the world stage before,” Steve said soothingly. “I think you’d be throwing up before a performance if you were told that there was a talent scout in the audience who if they liked your stuff would be giving you a contract.”

Eddie stopped to consider that. “Oh yeah. Okay. I see your point.” He stood up and opened the door to the stall. “You gotta level with me coach, am I good enough?”

Steve took his head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You are. You are one of the best swimmers I’ve ever seen and you have got this in the bag.”

Eddie gripped Steve’s wrists and nodded. “I’ve got this.”

He opened his eyes and saw how close they were. It would take absolutely nothing to press their lips together. Just tilt his head up.

Then a locker door slammed Steve jumped back, dropping his hands from Eddie’s face. His own face was burning.

“Steve...” Eddie murmured, holding out his hand to him. “It’s okay.”

“I want to so bad,” Steve muttered back. “But I’m coach, I can’t.”

Eddie smiled. “If I make it to the Olympics, you won’t be. Bob will. So just think about that for a moment.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.”

“You love it,” Eddie said, leaning into his space.

Steve playfully pushed him off. “Go blow away all the judges, rockstar.”

Eddie saluted and led the way out of the locker rooms, out to the pool, a fond Steve following behind.

~

The stands were stacked to the gills of all their friends and family. Max wasn’t trying out for the Olympics this year, opting to wait until she was older before she tried out. Steve and Susan were very proud of her making that decision for herself. She would be sixteen next time and they, and Robin thought it would the best for her.

It was going to be a crazy week. Having over a thousand athletes all vying for the same fifty spots. And a lot of those spots would be filled by the same people across the board.

Steve wasn’t sure what was worse: for first and watching everyone else beat your time or go last and be forced to watch all the amazing athletes go before you. Well Eddie was about to find out.

He was in the first heat on the first day for his first event and most of his heats were also on day one. Which thankfully, Jason was not. Jason was in the middle of the week and had been complaining about it to everyone who would listen longer than five minutes.

Chrissy Cunningham was at the end of the week. The first heat on the last day.

Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Show the country who’s the best, Eddie,” he murmured. His hand slid down Eddie’s arm and he gave his hand a squeeze too.

Eddie smiled brightly and then tucked his hair under his cap. He padded over to his podium and started warming up his limbs. The whistle blew and he pulled down his goggles and got up on the podium. He crouched on it backward, still as can be, waiting for that shot.

BANG!

And Eddie arced into the pool backward, the strong lines of his body sending butterflies to the base of his rib cage and his heart rate rabbited.

Eddie was beautiful. There was no denying that. The last two years had taken him from a scrawny teen to a whipcord strength. His tattoos were beautifully on display and Steve let out a shuddering breath.

Robin took his hand and they watched as Eddie cut threw the water like a hot knife through butter. He was exquisite.

It was nerve-wracking every time he went into the water, but every time Eddie emerged from the water in the top three if not the top spot.

They watched and waited the whole week as others did the same.

When the results were tallied up at the end of the week, Eddie, Jason, and Chrissy were all going to the Olympics in London.

Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “Better get packing for London, pretty boy. I’m going to the Olympics!”

Steve laughed as he spun them around. “All right, all right!” he cried, laughing. “I’ll come watch you compete!”

“Yay!”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t sure if he could handle going to the Olympics and watching other people live his dream. But he’d do it. He’d do it for Eddie.

He’d do anything for Eddie.

~

Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Date- [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

(SEPARATE) pt3

Staring: Otoya, Karasu, Reo

pt1: Rin, Sae, Kaiser

pt2: niko, kaiser, ness

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

>Otoya

[Mall outing]

You stared at the time on your phone, it read 11:59pm. You two were supposed to meet up 29 minutes ago.

You sighed and shook your head, you couldn’t say you were surprised, but still. You assumed Otoya had some human decency in him. So you told yourself you’d wait 30 minutes. If he still didn’t show, then maybe you’d give Karasu a call and see if he was busy…

You looked back at your phone, 11:59 turning into 12:00.

You mentally facepalmed for ever thinking Otoya would actually show and got ready to leave.

Just then, you heard you name getting screamed across the mall from behind you

“[Y/N]!” Otoya collapsed on to your back, trying to catch his breath, “Sorry I’m-... A bit late-”

You gave him a judgmental look while pushing him lightly off you “A bit?? Where were you!? I waited for 30 minutes!!”

“Yea about that..” he laughed awkwardly while brushing himself off “I forgot…”

You glared at him, slightly pissed. “Why did I ever agree to this…” you rubbed your temples “Should’ve gone out with Karasu instead..” you mumbled the last part before composing yourself 

“So- wanna grab some food? I’m kinda hungry…” he asked you while eyeing another women. What a great start to your first date.

You calmed yourself before agreeing, and the two of you made your way to the food court.

You were quite hungry as well, waiting for Otoya took much longer than you would’ve thought. So the two of you stood at the Churro stand while browsing the menu.

“Let me pay” Otoya offered with a smirk “As an apology for being late.”

You gave him a skeptical nod, “... You brought your wallet- right?”

His face froze for a second, before he started digging through his pockets.

Your eye twitched as you placed your order (and Otoya’s bc he always get the same thing) and pulled out your card to pay

But before you could tap, Otoya did instead, and the payment went through (surprisingly)

You gave him an amused smile as he gave a smug one (more to himself than you) seeming proud to have found his wallet

“Great job so far Eita.” He thought to himself, “10/10 date, I’m sure she’s in absolute amazement at my rizz.”

He took the Churros from the worker with a wink and handed you yours. Otoya smiled before taking a bite of his, “So, where’d you like to go?”

“Hm… there’s a new clothing shop nearby… how bout we check it out?”

Otoya nodded before following you closely, soon entering the store.

He helped you pick a few outfits out, and surprisingly, he knew exactly what you were comfortable in and what you looked good in. He even carried the bags for you after!

You two wandered around a bit more, stopping by whatever shops you felt like. He won a few claw machine games for you, and even hit on the cashier for a free donut(also for you-)!

As your date slowly came to an end, he made a short but proper apology for being late, and offered to walk you to the station.

Before you hopped on the train, you gave him a quick kiss and a wave, heading off

He’d never admit it, but he was blushing for the next 20min XD

>Karasu

[Seasonal Festival]

You looked at the map on your phone as you followed the path to your destination. He had invited you to the annual Lantern Rite, and you’ve never been before so you figured you should get there early/while it wasn’t entirely dark yet.

“Should be around here…” you mumbled, seeing that you're in the right area on the map- before bumping slightly into someone.

“Hey, thought you’d be here early.” Karasu laughed, seeing your surprised expression

“I- yea…” you were a bit flustered to be caught

Karasu laughed even more, and you just glared at him as he did so. “Sorry sorry- *wheeze* I’m fine now” he gave you a smile before reaching out his hand, “Here, let me hold your things for you.” he took the bag off your shoulders and carried it before intertwining your fingers with his, “You ready to go?”

He took you around the festival while commenting, “This year’s theme is Kites, have you flown one before?” He turn to look at you, still holding your hand

You thought for a second before responding, “When I was younger, yes. But it’s been a while.”

Karasu gave you a smug smirk, “Well, I’m basically a pro. Here, let’s try.”

He guided you to the dock selling kites before looking around. He was about to get one before realizing that it was the most popular. Then he worried about looking mediocre in front of you and decided against it, only to get it in the end because ‘it’s the best one there’.

He hoped that you didn’t see him argue with himself as he walked over to where you were looking. It was the child's section.

“Karasu look! This one’s a crow!” You showed him the kite you picked with a smile

He tried to keep in a laugh “Cute, I mean, if you like it.”

The boy paid before following you out to fly. The scenery was beautiful, kites everywhere, lanterns lighting up the festival, and the quiet chitter-chatter of the bystanders on the lower floors. And yet his eyes could only focus on you.

You unwrapped the string of your kite, standing at the edge of the wooden flooring while Karasu leaned on the edge of the railing, watching you with a smile.

As you finished setting up, you looked at him with an amused expression, “So, you gonna do yours too? Or just watch me?”

He was snapped out of his trance before turning his back against you to hide his red face and starting unwrapping his kite too

The two of you got ready to fly them, Karasu did a little countdown. “3, 2, 1!”

You both let go of your kites as you watched them soar, your’s immediately going higher than his. The two kites looked so pretty flying above the ocean water, you watched them in awe.

Karasu was a bit salty that yours was higher than his, but seeing the smile on your face made it worth it. Still, he thought he was a bit mediocre because he couldn’t show off to you.

The two of you made small talk as you watched the kites and he watched you also your kite

“You look really beautiful, you know?” Karasu suddenly blurted out, trying to keep his smile as calm as possible

You struggled to form a sentence for a second, but then whispered out a “Thank you” (his face was redder than yours LOL)

After you pulled your kite back in, the two of you set off to wander the festival a bit more. Karasu bought you some tanghulu and sparklers (those sticks you wave around?)

As the day came to an end, he offered to bring you home as it was dark out. The two of you walked hand in hand as he delivered you home.

“Thank you for joining me today, [Y/N].” he thanked you with a smile

“Of course, thank you for taking me out.” you gave him a quick kiss before heading inside your house “Safe trip home!” 

He nodded before smiling to himself, internally freaking out over the small action. This Lantern Rite was his favourite, and probably will be for many years to come.

>Reo

[Art museum]

You entered the wide doors of the art exhibit, carefully surveying your surroundings, well aware that some of the “art” here cost more than your life (even if it’s just a canvas that looks like it’s been pissed on)

“My my, who knew that art could be so hot? Maybe I should pin you to a wall” you looked Reo up and down, jokingly flirting 

He turned around and frowned, before rolling his eyes with an amused smile “Hello to you too. I was just looking at this actual piece of art.” He turned back around to an empty glass on display 

“...” You looked at the piece, then back at him, “Is that an Ikea cup-”

“It’s art. Don’t think too much of it.” he took your hand and dragged you away “shh, the owner gave us-well, me- early entry tickets, that’s the whole reason why we’re here. And he’s literally watching us.” he whispered to you under his breath, bringing you to the next room.

You composed yourself and tried to act as sophisticated as Reo (though you wondered how he kept a straight face). There were a few people gathered around this piece, you wondered what could cause such an attraction. You were about to push your way through before Reo brought you around the few people instead.

Once you saw it, your eyes shot open and you tried to hold down a laugh. But that back-fired horribly and you started choking. 

Reo hits you lightly on the back, not to help you stop choking, but to tell you to compose yourself. Though he himself was having a hard time not breaking down in front of the art and all the rich people staring at them

You cleared your throat, and stood up straight (A/N: YOU TOO READER- I SEE YOU AND YOUR SHRIMP POSTURE) “Ah yes, what a wonderful piece of… art.” you scrunch your face at the art in question on display

It was a simple stone carving, not having many surfaces, giving it a geometric look. The edges were smooth, clearly being cut carefully, the piece looking much like… a ‘rocket ship’.

“The rock must be… very hard” You gave a weak smile, trying not to laugh

This time Reo was the one to break, even if it were just for a second. He quickly stifled the laugh though, but you felt a bit of pride in getting him to break.

“Hey, this rock must get wet pretty often, huh?” you nudged Reo lightly.

You were speaking fairly quietly to only be heard by him, but someone else seemed to have heard you. 

“Yes, you are quite right.” an older man approached you, “This is one of my best pieces, made from a special rock that comes from the sea. The natural wetness made it a wonderful material to work with!!” he gave a gleeful smile

“You don’t say? It looks beautiful, the shape is amazing, so much thought must’ve gone into it!” you doubled down and returned a smile, matching him in enthusiasm.

He nodded, very excited “Yes yes! Finally, a true art connoisseur! I’ll tell you what, I’ve carved a smaller version of this piece, it is available in the gift shop if you ask.” he quickly scribbled down a note and handed it to you “Just give them this and they’ll let you buy it” he gave you a quick wink before going back to assisting the other people there

You turned to Reo with a smile, and he was trying his hardest to keep a laugh in. His face turned slightly red from doing so. He let out a quiet wheeze followed by the quietest laugh. You covered your mouth and did the same, very amused at the recent interaction. It took Reo a good few minutes to recover, you had to drag him away from the room to not offend the artist.

You quickly walked past the other exhibits before reaching a small isolated locker area. Reo immediately lost it, he fell to his knees, laughing his ass off “OMG YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT LMAOOOOO” his laughs echoed through the small corridor, soon followed by yours. The two of you couldn’t believe what just happened, you were impressed with your quick thinking. After the two of you had a good laugh, you helped him off the floor “Did you want to go back to look at the other exhibits?”

“Nah not really” he brushed himself off, “Did you want to go to the gift shop and pick up your carving?”

You grinned and made your way over to the store. Reo held the door open for you as you entered, looking around. 

“Damn…” it quickly hit you that the things in here were all very expensive.

Reo walked up to the cashier with a small wave, he gestured for you to come over as well. You pulled out the slip of paper and handed it to the worker who read through it quickly and nodded before disappearing into the back.

“So, how much do you think it is?” Reo asked you while leaning on the counter 

You shrugged “I dunno, like $200?” You’ve never gone to an art museum before and it showed

Reo gave you a questioning smile “Really? Just $200?”

“Fine, how much do you think it is!?”

“Like $50k+” Reo laughed, but he seemed serious 

The worker came back out with the miniature carving, placing it carefully on the table. “That’ll be $52k” she smiled at him.

Reo smiled back before pulling out a cheque and filling it out quickly before slipping it to them

You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. $52k for a rock?? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend that.

Reo took the bag from the worker and handed it to you, “Take good care of it okay?”

You held the item carefully, “Thank you, Reo… This is a lot tho-”

He waved it off “It’s nothing, really. Barely make a dent in my account.”

You gave him a hug and he laughed, “Is that all?”

You looked up at him questioningly. He pointed at his lips with a smirk

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. But before you could pull away, he held you by your waist and pulled you back in for another.

“Mm, much better.” he smiled, still not letting go of you “I’d say that was well worth $52k”

You pushed yourself off playfully, “Whatever you say, rich boy.”

Reo laughed, “Let’s get you home, love.”

A/N: d

[unfilteredflare]

So like. I had a lot of time to think today at work. Doing monotonous stuff for hours caused my mind to drift. And I ended up thinking about Princess Tutu just because

And now I think I have figured out something about the character Princess Tutu herself.

Let me explain: so we all know that Duck and Rue are the princesses in Swan Lake. The symbolizim so obviously makes us see Duck as the True Princess / the White Swan / Odette and we see Rue has the False Princess / the Black Swan / Odile.

And I admit, the first time I watched the series back in 2012 or so, I thought the message at the end was the Prince choosing Odile over Odette. Years of rewatching the series over and over and analyzing it and interacting with the fandom has led to a different outlook very quickly. Which is that Rue is actually Odette all along and Duck was Odile from the beginning.

Which I know all of this has been discussed to death. But I just want to reiterate why we believe Rue is the real Odette because this has led me to another conclusion that I have never seen discussed. Specifically about Princess Tutu. But first we need to establish that Rue actually IS Odette and not Odile.

Siegfried is destined to love Odette, but he ends up tricked into confessing his love for Odile, who is transformed to look like Odette. Only love can break Odette's curse and turn her back into a human. But because Siegfried pledged his love to another, Odette dies.

And then we have Duck and Rue. In the finale of season 1, episode 12 Swan Lake, both Duck and Rue fight for Mytho's love. Mytho's heartshard that IS his actual feeling of Love, picks Rue. In this scene, Mytho loves Rue. But the mostly heartless and loveless Mytho, picks Duck. When this happens, Rue leaves, ashamed and defeated. In fact, that is how every battle involving Princes Kreahe in season 1 ends. Nobody ever defeats her in battle. She is defeated by the Prince picking Tutu or turning against her or even by being shocked by her "true self" the Black Swan.

This very much follows the pattern in Swan Lake. Mytho loves Rue but picks Duck in this scene. Or how, confessing his love for Odette is supposed to transform her into her true self. And Mytho confessing to Rue at the end causes her to transform into a white feathered dress that clearly symbolizes the White Swan. Or how their carriage is pulled by more White Swans.

Rue was always the White Swan, destined to love and be loved by the Prince. And Duck was always the Black Swan, destined to trick the Prince by pretending to be the White Swan. Of course, Its not like ours girls did any of this on purpose. Duck believed she was the White Swan until Mytho chose Rue. Duck, the real Odile, really did love the Prince. But had to give up on him because he never loved her back.

We are led to believe through all of season 1 that Duck = Princess Tutu = White Swan = Odette. But at the end of season 2, we discover that she was never actually Princess Tutu either. Her powers came from the heartshard of Hope. She is not using Princess Tutu's powers through the series but actually Mytho's. As evidenced in the finale as Mytho's flower powers, flying, dancing while fighting, transforming his clothes to his real outfit. She was never Princess Tutu but just an illusion of her.

Fakir mentions that Mytho was obsessed with the story of Princess Tutu in the original book. I believe Siegfried loved Princess Tutu based on this fact. because Mytho was always going through the motions of feelings without actually feeling anything. Like, how he would risk himself to save people and animals. Something Siegfried would do, and so Mytho does it because its habit. Siegfried's love of ballet that Mytho copies without feeling. So Mytho being obsessed with the Princess Tutu in the book means he actually had feelings for her as Siegfried. So his Love for Princess Tutu and his Hope of one day having his heart returned manifested as an illusion of Princess Tutu.

So Duck was never the real Princess Tutu. Which also means she was never the real White Swan or the real Odette. Just a little duck that tricked everyone into believing her lies. But that's ok. She never meant to deceive. She never meant any harm. She just wanted to be happy. And in the end, she was happy. By embracing her true self.

And all of that leads back to: Rue was the real Odette all along, like in the original story. Odette was kidnapped by the villian, Rothbart. In this series Rothbart seems to be the Raven. Rue was kidnapped by the Raven. Rothbart put a curse on Odette, transforming her from a human into an animal. The Raven "curses" Rue and turns her from a normal human into a "crow". Rothbart then transforms the Black Swan, Odile, to look like Odette and deceive the Princess. Now there are actually 2 villians in Princess Tutu. The first 1 we learn of is the Raven and the 2nd turns out to be Drosselmeyer. The villian, Drosselmeyer, transforms a normal duck into Princess Tutu that he knows Prince Siegfried loves. That was the brilliance of it. The White Swan and Black Swan swapped colors in the anime. Because it was the only way to mislead us, the audience. We already knew the story of Swan Lake and the Prince being tricked by Odile dressed up as Odette. The only way to mislead both the characters and the audience was to swap the colors and make Odette the Black Swan and Odile the White Swan. Otherwise, the trick would have never worked.

I know there is way more evidence proving the Oedette = Rue and Odile = Duck stuff. But that isn't really what I even wanted to talk about today.

I wanted to talk about Princess Tutu. The original from the book. Not the illusory one that Duck pretends to be.

Because, we still don't know where she is. What never made sense to me was how she never appeared in the anime. Like, the Knight gets reincarnated. And the original Prince and Raven are still here. But Princess Tutu never actually shows up. Why was she never reincarnated too?

And that is where my theory begins. Because I think I know what happened to her and where she ended up.

I believe that Rue actually IS Princess Tutu's reincarnation.

I have a lot of thoughts about this so buckle up.

My theory started with the Odette/Odile confusion. We believed Duck was Odette BECAUSE she was Princess Tutu. Of course she was fated to love and be loved by the Prince. She was THE Princess from the story. But she never really was. If she was never Princess Tutu, then she couldn't have been the White Swan or Odette.

So I believe that Because Rue was always Odette, she was also always Princess Tutu.

One thing that stood out to me from my original viewings of the anime was this: we have 4 main characters but only 3 have anything to do with the original story. Mytho is the Prince. Fakir is the Knight. Duck is Princess Tutu. So what about Rue? We are led to believe she is the Black Swan but the Black Swan was never a character in the original Prince and the Raven story. But if she was Princess Tutu the whole time, things make more sense. Duck enters the story as an outsider right from the beginning. She never really belonged. But Rue did. She found the Prince on her own. She fell in love with the Prince on her own. She belonged to the story way before Duck appeared. And yet, her supposed "character" wasn't in the original.

Siegfried loved Princess Tutu. Mytho Loves Princess Tutu. Mytho Loves Rue. All of these things make perfect sense when you view Rue as Tutu from the start. It even makes sense of WHY the Raven picked her. The Knight AND Princess Tutu had just been reincarnated within the same year so the story could start again. The Raven saw a perfect opportunity to use Siegfried's True Love against him. By Kidnapping the real Princess Tutu, aka Odette aka Rue, and corrupting her to his side. Disguising her and using her. He KNEW she was destined to fall in love with the Prince. He KNEW the Prince was destined to fall in love with her and used that against her. Dangling a partial truth in front of her to make her work for him.

Drosselmeyer saw the real Princess Tutu become cursed into the corrupted Princess Kreahe. He needed someone to get the story moving again. Which is why he chooses an Odile to fill in for Princess Tutu.

We don't know what the real Princess Tutu is supposed to look like. But we also don't know what Rue would have grown up to look like before she was cursed either. We only have an illusion to base our opinions off of. Also, I would like to point out, that most people just see a White Swan and not a human when looking at Duck transformed into Princess Tutu. So trying to argue that Princess Kreahe and Princess Tutu look nothing alike doesn't feel like a valid argument for me. Since we don't know what they are supposed too look like before all the switching.

So my theory started with because Rue = Odette and Odette = Princess Tutu, then Princess Tutu = Rue. And then the more I thought about it, the more evidence I found.

What do we know about the original Princess Tutu?

She loved the Prince. She was cursed to "turn into a speck of light and vanish" if she ever confessed her love to the Prince. She was a "pathetic existence who was discarded by the story". And, by my theory at least, Prince Siegfried loved her.

I feel like Rue fits all of these categories. Allow me to explain. I have already discussed the 1st and last points.

So next let me tackle how both Princess Tutu and Rue were "discarded by the story".

Princess Kreahe was the primary antagonist of season 1. She helped drive the plot by giving Duck someone to challenge her ideas. After losing the Prince's Love in the season 1 finale, Swan Lake, Rue stops mattering to the story. She doesn't do anything of any significance until right at the end when she saves Mytho. She doesn't push the plot anymore. She gets a couple scenes of her going thru her own character arc and regretting what she has done. But Mytho is the one going out and trying to release the Raven by stealing hearts. Not Rue. Duck and Fakir are trying to find a way to save Mytho. The only thing Rue does is attempt and then fail to steal Autor's heart. But even the protagonists don't even know she did that. They didn't come in to save the day there, because everything she was doing was inconsequential to the story. I am arguing that Rue, like Princess Tutu, was abandoned by the story in season 2 until she defied her fate and save Mytho at the end. Making her relevant again.

Finally, we have the curse. I know this is where my theory is weakest and has the biggest hole. But let me attempt to address it anyway.

Duck never confesses her love to Mytho, or anyone for that matter. So she never "turns into a speck of light and vanishes". I believe she never had that curse to begin with. Nobody can prove she really was cursed. She was told she was cursed by Drosselmeyer, and because she really believed she was the real Princess Tutu and the curse is mentioned in the book. But she was never the real Tutu. And Drosselmeyer has proven to be an unreliable narrator. He could have very easily have lied to her to convince her that she was real. Or, he even could have actually cursed her. He is the author. He can do literally anything he wants. But I don't think she was really cursed. Unfortunately, this can never be proven or unproven.

But what about Rue? I can hear you asking. If she was Princess Tutu, then she should have vanished at the end when she saved Mytho by confessing to him.

And yes, that is the biggest hole in my theory. But I don't think that necessarily means I'm wrong.

((Sorry everyone. I've been working on writing this essay for months as I was rewatching Princess Tutu again. And I don't remember what my original point was about the curse. I just don't remember where I was going with that particular point. God dammit it. But I want to post this now because otherwise, I will never finish this and it will never see the light of day.))

The last thing I want to address is the ending. Everyone is supposed to return to being their True Selves. Which is why Duck returns to being a duck. Fakir, through the course of the story, had realized his True Self was an author, not a Knight in service to the Prince. So he stays in the "real world" to be an author. Mytho is the Prince from the Story so he must return to it. But what about Rue? Wasn't her True Self a normal human that the Raven kidnapped? Why would she arbitrarily go into the Story with Mytho when she never came from it? I know them being together is an important plot point. But it doesn't fully make sense to me why she "returns" to the Story as her True Self if she never came from there in the first place. But of course, if she actually was Princess Tutu, then it would make sense.

Note to self: The reason this is never addressed is because ptt was abandoned by the story ((I also don't remember where I was going with this either.))

tl:dr

I believe that Rue was the reincarnated Princess Tutu all along. And both the Raven and Drosselmayer conspired to conceal this.

I wrote most of this months ago. I don't remember some of my original arguments and I could very well be wrong. But I had never seen that particular take being discussed before when the idea has some merit. Sorry for the length and rambling and how long it took to post.

Idk how to end this. So, if you read the whole thing, thank you for your time