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#and my sister is debating a name for the black one
nervocat · 2 months
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Hey guys look at the silly little kittens I'm fostering rn aren't they cute :33 (also umm @h2llish ik you wanted to see them so yeah. Here they are!)
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beaversatemygrandma · 2 years
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I just did a subtle test to my dad a bit ago. I ended up explaining how my name just Doesn’t Vibe with me. Like how I hate hearing it and the fact that I was named after a famous person and I even cringe when i hear about that famous person. (I found a documentary on her. Brought it up that way. Worked well tbh.) And the ending of this went Very Well. I was scared it’d be that situation where a parent is offended that you don’t like the name they gave you and it was the exact opposite. He asked if i still liked my middle name and offered to start going by that. I don’t mind my middle name (as long as i drop the e so it’s not the feminine name and more of the body of water. a change my mom approved years ago but idk if we ever did that legally) and uhhhh yeah. I might try that out. Might even be a name to keep once I’m out. (better than the medieval Hungarian one I’ve been using online tbh.)
Welp. My passed grandma is getting her wishes. Not only did they drop the second A for her, but I’m about to drop the whole damn name. You got your way nana, just 20+yrs later. They should’ve followed your advice, even if your advice was antisemitic which was why they did it anyways.
#taks speaks#if you can guess my birth name by that info. no you fuckin didn't.#BUT.#brook sounds unisex enough right?#tbh i was debating on river as a later name change but then comes the whole thing of RESPONDING TO IT#same with brook tbh#all my siblings and like half my dogs through my life have had names that end with the 'ah sound#and i respond to ALL of them#like subconsciously i do. my grandma was yelling at my sister to wake up for school and the simple -ah sound shook me from deep sleep#i thought she was yelling for me and i went into full catering mode#turns out she hadnt been informed that school was out that day and my subconscious lied to me#all that aside my name has so many other reasons why i just Don't Like It#like first off: it's black/hebrew. I'm neither of which.#even my dad mentioned that the only people he met with the name were young black girls. and me looking back. that also is the case#back at my old job there was a girl with the same name. so the two of us were that name. i took the nickname.#either way. if you put the two of us beside each other. one a cute black girl with a fitting name and this butch.#you can guess who'd be the winner to the name in that workplace#my older coworkers started calling me lee and i rolled with it. tbh i loved that name for me#well. it was lee-lee to a few of them and that was annoying. but lee itself? thats my dad's middle name and quite masc. i like.#anyway. lesson to white people like my parents: Do Not Name your child after an R&B singer#i avoid her music like the plague even tho she's a damn legend#strictly bc of the name.#and that one song by kanye west where he mentions her by name. it gives me jeebies.#and that whole documentary i watched on r kelly.... what he did to my namesake was FUCKED. and hearing her name mentioned so much was ew#at least i understand my hatred for the name now. earlier in life it just felt like it didnt vibe. now. im getting it.#maybe eventually i''ll be able to listen to her music bc it is good.#90s r&b is great tbh. but the NAME.#*hold up wtf is my legal middle name*
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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Have My Baby
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader
Words: 4.6K
Rating: R
Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.
Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.
A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️
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"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.
He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.
Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.
It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.
Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.
He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.
Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.
"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.
"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.
"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.
Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.
He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.
"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.
Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.
"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.
Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.
Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.
There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.
You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.
Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.
You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.
Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.
Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.
Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.
"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.
"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.
"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.
"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.
"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.
The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.
Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.
Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.
"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.
You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.
Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.
"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.
"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.
He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.
Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.
"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.
Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.
Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.
Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.
He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.
Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.
Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.
Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.
Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.
Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.
You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.
He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.
"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.
His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.
The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.
Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.
"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.
"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.
You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.
Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.
Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.
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hangmanbrainrot · 2 years
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more than this
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a/n: HI. Me again! After talking with @rosiahills22, I simply HAD to give this idea a whirl. I hope y’all enjoy! Reader’s callsign is Van Gogh (to be explained) and I don’t use Y/N. :) special thanks to @bradshawsbitch​ for the encouragement. :’)
warnings: so much mutual pining, dash of angst toward the end. Generally, all my posts are 18+ because I don’t want minors interacting with my page! Probably naval inaccuracies.
word count: 3975
summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years now… Why mess with a good thing?
pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader — callsign: Van Gogh
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“Vee, you aren’t seriously wearing that to Family Day.”
You glanced down at your striped sleep pants and faded Navy t-shirt, then whirled around to look up at the oh so familiar source of the question. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, in the flesh. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt, jeans, and black leather-banded watch on his wrist. His signature toothpick was missing from its usual post between his lips. 
“You clean up nice,” you retorted, ignoring his initial remark. “And I thought we agreed, no call signs today.”
You ‘tsk’ed at him and turned back toward your laundry basket, then bending to pick it up and hold it at your hip. 
“You have one of the coolest callsigns, besides mine, of course. What’s wrong with Van Gogh?”
“I got it because I dropped my books and everyone saw all the doodles in the margins of my notes. And it doesn’t even make sense, because Van Gogh was a painter. At least yours has a cool story, I mean—”
He said your name, low and sweet, to cut you off. The two of you weren’t about to rehash that story again. 
“Better.” This earned you a smile. “I told you, I’m not going this year. I’m just gonna hang out here, take advantage of the empty lounge, and chill.” 
“And I told you, my mother demanded to see you. In fact, I’d dare say she’s more excited to see you than she is to see me.”
“Can you blame Mrs. Seresin for having taste?” you replied easily, the teasing lilt to your voice unmistakable as you flashed Jake a megawatt smile. 
“I’m absolutely telling on you, when I see her. ‘Mrs. Seresin’ instead of Sandy, as requested.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you shot back, mock horror covering your features.
“Can, could, and would. Get dressed, Vee. Families will be here before you know it!”
The way that Jake departed after speaking let you know it wasn’t up for debate.
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You heard Jamie and Courtney before you saw them, their familiar, slightly shrill voices carrying over the crowd of people all waiting for their own aviator to make an appearance. Jake’s older and younger sisters had always treated you like the additional sibling they’d never had, but on a day like today, it made your heart ache. You knew, of course, not everyone was lucky enough to find a kind family to adopt them the way the Seresins had adopted you. Even Robert Seresin himself — gruff as he was, he had a you-sized soft spot, much like his son. Though good luck getting either of the Seresin men to admit it. 
You smiled as you spun on your heel, ready to retreat. Content to revel in the knowledge that you were loved, but too heavy-hearted to witness it today. You’d beat Jake here, somehow, so maybe you could slip out without his notice, either. Come up with some feeble story about suddenly coming down with a migraine, and nurse your ache alone, with your mounds of freshly laundered clothing, once you were sure he and his family had departed for the day.
But instead of proceeding forward, you collided with navy cotton and ginger and leather and… Jake. Had he always smelled this good?
“Hi, I was just,” you pushed out, before being interrupted. Why were you so nervous, all of a sudden? It was just Jake. 
“Trying to ditch me. Darlin’, my feelings are hurt.” The tips of your ears burned red with embarrassment, even as your stomach did backflips over the way his accent thickened on the word ‘darlin’.’ 
“Sorry, Jake.” You didn’t even have the wherewithal to hide the giggle leaking into your words. But you were smart enough to play it off. “I was just going to get a jacket.”
“Vee, it’s July.”
“Yes, I do have a calendar and I can read!” Your eye roll was practically involuntary. “I just get cold sometimes in the AC.”
A lopsided grin slid onto his features while he aimed a pointer finger at himself. “Human furnace. Let’s go!”
Before you could protest, he was slinging an arm around your shoulders and all but crushing you into his side. “I think this outfit is much more appropriate for a trip off base.” It sounded like he was testing the compliment. And, truthfully, you liked this particular combination of white cap-sleeve blouse and jeans quite a bit yourself, too. But it was nice of him to notice. Then again, you couldn’t recall a time when Jake hadn’t noticed you, not since the beginning of your friendship. He was just always so checked in with you. Always so present. If you squinted, you could call it attentiveness. 
“Jacob Michael Seresin, it is rude to keep your mother waiting! And where is — there she is, there’s my girl.” 
Before either of you could inhale, a head of blond hair identical to Jake’s came bounding toward you, Sandra Seresin bundling you up in her arms like she hadn’t seen you in years, rather than the months it had been since the last time she had seen you via FaceTime.
You hugged Sandy a little tighter, as if you were afraid you would disappear if you let go. If it weren't for this woman and her family, holding onto you — in more ways than one — you often feared no one would remember you at all. No one to be on the receiving end of a phone call or a folded flag, if you didn't make it home one day. You would just… cease to exist. Quietly. Perhaps that was fitting, considering that was exactly how you lived your life.
You were your parents' only child, and they were gone. Well, your father was, anyway. Your mother never recovered after his sudden death, and had taken to self-medicating to ease the pain of his loss. Which, sure, you got, once you were old enough, but you were still small and new to the world, when the light that was your father went out. No one is ready to lose a parent they're close to, but certainly not when they're five. And it felt like you'd lost her, too, by the time you were 10. Moved out by the time you were 16. So, she wasn't gone, but there was no relationship to be had. You knew, of course, that if something did happen to you, they'd find her. But who would she be mourning? You had lived a whole life she knew nothing about; you had become an entirely new person. Someone she knew nothing about, but that the Seresins knew like the backs of their hands. Courtney was filling your hands with your favorite candy on the walk to the parking lot, and Jamie's kids were telling you about how they were doing in school. 
Maybe someone, maybe a few someones would remember you. And fondly, you hoped.
At the height of the day, the sun was relentless, but as you walked beside Jake in the parking lot, you couldn't help noticing it made his hair the perfect shade of blond, and rendered his eyes the color of sea-glass.
"You know they just missed you," he chirped, misreading your expression and mistaking your melancholy for annoyance.
"No, no," you said softly. "It's nice to be missed. I just.."
"Today is hard," he finished your sentence matter-of-factly, and without any sort of air of pity. You heard, in its place, respect. He had no idea how you felt, but he'd always left space in your friendship for you to feel it. And, in true Jake fashion, he'd tried to fix it, by introducing you to his family, all those years ago, now. You'd only known each other a few months, then. But he didn't want you to be alone. And, the truth was, you hadn't been. Not since the moment you met him. All you ever felt when you were with Jake was ease. Comfort. 
Your hand found Jake’s without thinking, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re my best friend, Jake. And I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you tell anyone how soft I got.”
You glanced over at Jake just in time to watch an unreadable emotion cloud his expression. Before you had time to think it over, he was squeezing your hand. “I’ll always keep all your secrets, Vee. Including that you prefer green Jolly Ranchers, even though blue are clearly superior.” 
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The Seresins took you and Jake to a small diner off base, and it was today that you learned it was Jake’s favorite. You all sat in a booth toward the back, bunched up together in the cushioned semi-circle bench. Jake’s warm thigh brushed against yours, and you’d be lying if you didn’t notice the jolt that went through you, every time those thick cords of muscle pressed against you when he laughed, or when he reached forward to grasp one of the menus wedged between the matching salt and pepper shakers on the table. 
With an arm lazily draped on the booth behind you, fingers loosely grazing your shoulder every so soften, Jake opened a menu for you to share. 
“Well, what do you think, darlin’?”
“How did I not know this was your favorite place?” You asked, ignoring the question he was obviously asking you.
But he indulged you. “This was the first year I actually convinced you to come with us.”
“Convinced? I felt slightly bullied, Seresin.” You grinned, in spite of yourself. 
“Forgive me for wanting to spend a little time with you, darlin’.” He sounded almost coy. You glanced up at him, at the same time he looked over at you, and found that ‘butterflies’ were an understatement for what that look was currently doing to your insides. It felt like a cross between adoration and desire, but what was even wilder was that Jake’s expression seemed to mirror your own — which was absurd because it was Jake. Jake, who always made sure you never got left behind; Jake, who sometimes pulled his punches with you when he was ragging on you over the comms. Yeah, that Jake, your Jake was looking at you like… that?
But then you heard Jake’s dad clear his throat from across the table and you and Jake glanced up like you’d been caught doing something far less innocuous. Your mind worked overtime trying to decipher what just happened here but the moment flickered and burnt out before you, and the conversation moved on like a film unpaused.
Despite the fact that his entire family was here, it felt like Jake couldn’t bear to take his eyes off you for a moment, not that you were complaining. And it was something his mother noticed, too.
“So, between the two of you, who do you think is the better pilot?” Courtney teased, a mischievous glint visible in the hazel of her irises. 
But then Jake said your name at the same time you said his, causing you both to turn to each other in surprise, mouths agape. 
“Stop being modest,” he accused, almost immediately. Part of you wanted to make special note of this moment, record it somehow. So that the next time Jake decided to have a pissing contest with some other pilot, you could chime in and remind him it didn’t matter, since he thought you were the best anyway. You went to shove at his chest, but your hand — and your heart — stuttered with you made contact. He was so solid. Just firm muscle and warm skin. When your gaze dared drift upward, he was blushing. Your comment, voicing the observation, would die on your lips, as your server returned to the table with a tray full of milkshakes. Leave it to Jamie to secure dessert when you weren’t looking.
—————
When the meal had run its course and everyone was preparing for the trip back to base, you couldn’t help but hang back a little bit, just to take it all in. Jake was indulging Courtney in one of those rare, long bear hugs, while Jamie and his mother ran off to the bathroom, and his dad made small talk with another patron seated at the diner’s counter. In spite of your resistance, this family had yanked you, kicking and screaming, into their lives. Whether you’d found them or they’d found you didn’t matter, what mattered was the moment unfolding before you. You wished you could wrap it around you and let it warm you from the inside out. 
You weren’t sure when Jake had released Courtney to return to your side, or when the rest of his family had filtered out the diner’s front doors, so you jumped when you heard his voice from beside you. 
“You okay, sugar?” He was close enough that you could smell the tang of his cologne — softer than before, but still present — and feel the body heat rolling off of him in waves. You practically ached with the desire to move, to be touching him in some way, and the ferocious way this feeling roared to life within you startled you. Instead of giving in to that yearning to touch, you spun around and put some distance between you, eyes trained on him. You were desperate to find out what had changed, but when you gazed into Jake’s eyes. You just saw him, you just felt him. Nothing else had changed. But maybe nothing had needed to. High stakes situations meant you were constantly filtering out your emotions: keep, alter, discard; keep, alter, discard. You rifled through feelings often before you took a breath. It felt silly to question whether or not you’d simply overlooked or ignored your feelings for your best friend all along, but what else could be true? It wasn’t the way you felt about him that was new; no, it was the sudden impulse to do something about it that felt like an unscratchable itch.
You took a nearly imperceptible step closer, and Jake mirrored your actions. He said your name softly, cautiously. 
But then, from behind: “Hey, is everybody else outside?” 
Jamie’s voice was like cold water to the face. Still, you nodded, regaining the distance between yourself and Jake. You blinked a few times, as if you were hitting some sort of invisible reset button in your mind.
Keep, alter, discard.
You were silent, the entire ride back to base. You went through the motions of ‘see-you-next-time’’s and ‘take-care’’s, and stood in the parking lot until Robert’s truck was completely out of view.
“Thanks for today,” you mumbled, without looking up at Jake, then spinning on your heels to head back inside.  There was still enough of the day that you could get your laundry done if you headed straight in and got to work, you just had to —
Jake’s hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your skin was tingling where his fingers were wrapped around you. Jaw set, you clenched, mouth forming a straight line. You were back on base now; you were back to being naval aviators. There wasn’t any room for these silly little schoolgirl feelings Jake inspired in you. You didn’t get to twirl your hair and bat your eyelashes and fall head over heels for your best friend. Instead, you got to linger somewhere painfully between ‘duty bound’ and ‘already in over your head.’
“What is it, Jake?” You hadn’t yet turned to face him, and that was an offense he didn’t take lightly to; though instead of waiting for you to rectify the situation, he does so himself. It was so very like him. 
“Look at me, please.” The raw edge to his voice startled you into compliance. 
You turned and regretted it immediately.
“What did I do?” His eyes were so soft, so entirely unguarded. A fear you didn’t recognize was plain on his face. “How can I fix it?”
“It’s nothing, Jake.”
But he was not convinced by your sighed syllables. “That’s bullshit.” Even the way he spoke was gentle, like he was afraid you’d evaporate from the sheer force of his words if he spoke too loudly.
“Something changed, after lunch, something… Something happened,” he continued. “Did Jamie say something to you? Court?” 
A short burst of laughter punched out of you, but it sounded colder than you imagined, and Jake stepped back like you’d slapped him. Fear was replaced by irritation. You recognized that particular crease in his brow, but you resolved that this was good. Maybe he needed to hate you a little, so you could get over whatever was most definitely not happening here.
“What?” You laughed again, though this time it sounded more forced than before. “Did you expect me to go all weak-kneed because you saved me, Jake? Showed me what a real family was like? Would you like me to grovel with gratitude now, or can I save that for later?”
And you regretted the words the moment you said them, instantly spiraling. It was vicious and careless, but a low enough blow that it would end things — it would fix things, once and for all. But then that feeling from earlier returned, that burning at the back of your throat and the sting in your eyes. You understood now that what you were feeling was loss; you were preparing for the loss of your best friend. Prematurely, perhaps, but if you knew Jake at all, you knew it wasn’t that premature. He let the others think he was a jerk and a blowhard but, to you, he admitted to the real softness of his heart. The purity of it. It was you he sat beside, shaking with worry after Phoenix and Bob went down after a bird strike. You, he called when his niece got a case of the flu so bad she was hospitalized and he couldn’t see her. You, he pleaded with for help when he’d mouthed off too much in class and was pretty sure everyone hated him now. You knew everything he did was so startlingly fucking earnest. To question how genuine he was, to question his integrity, was the kind of wound that could only be delivered intimately. And you had done it so very well. A real stab and twist.
You mumbled an apology, just desperate to escape Jake and that angry, but somehow still pleading look in his eyes. It was when your back was turned that Jake finally spoke.
“God, I have to be so fucking stupid.” 
“Jake, don’t,” you said, stilled but not turning back around. Your pride wouldn’t let him see you cry.
“No, I must be. I must be a complete fucking idiot to have misread all the signs that you… That we want the same thing.”
You didn’t dare speak at first; you couldn’t. And then, when you did, the ragged nature of your breathing startled even you. “And what is it that you think we both want?”
“More than this, Vee!” He sounded exasperated, and you didn’t need to face him to know that Jake had run a frustrated hand through his hair. “More than tiptoeing around each other and how we feel about each other, and trying to pretend like, like…” 
“Trying to pretend like what?” The words ripped out of you like a sob and you couldn’t will yourself to be still anymore. Your body angled toward his like you were fucking magnetized. 
“Trying to pretend like I am not in love with you.” 
The words landed like lead around you, and you had to bite back a sob. When that wasn’t enough to muffle the sound, you slapped a palm to your mouth. 
He had done it. He had taken that big thing, wrestled it into submission, and then laid it bare in front of you. But, more than that, he’d laid himself bare in front of you. He was more naked now than he’d ever been in any locker room. This was Jake at his most honest.
And you could feel yourself teetering so dangerously on the edge of giving in. Your breaths heaved in and out of you with great effort. 
What if you ruined this? What if he left you? What if, what if, what if…
God, but what if you didn’t? What if, for once, something just fucking worked out, and someone just stayed? If there was anyone in your life who was capable of staying, wouldn’t it be Jake? Who else could it be? 
Your resolve was so thin, so fragile; when you finally spoke, it was: “Jake, I’m scared.” 
He took a step toward you. He could’ve closed the gap between your bodies in a singular stride, but he was giving you an out. One last chance to walk away. You remained anchored to your spot on the pavement. When he took the final step toward you, he had a palm raised to frame your face — he was shaking, but he rested his forehead against yours, too. And that was Jake, in a nutshell. Scared, but pushing forward. It was one of the things you admired, one of the things you loved most about him. 
“Don’t be scared, Vee.” The plea was soft, softer than a prayer. “Don’t be scared. Whatever there is to figure out, we’ll figure it out together. We can make this work.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We’ll figure that out together, too.” 
Even as your every survival instinct was telling you not to, even as all you wanted to do was run, you leaned in. The kiss was a little clumsy — he hadn’t been ready, you were too nervous. But then your hand found purchase against his chest, and one of his at your hip. And then you were practically tugging each other closer; your lips fitting together more seamlessly. How had you held out this long? How had you deprived yourself of this? 
Jake retracted, eyes wild and bright when he looked at you. As his lips sloped into a grin, you knew something was coming. 
“Ma’am, I’m not sure if you heard me, but…”
“Oh, you mean your little love confession?” you reveled in the flush that crept up his neck and the laugh that fled your now kiss-swollen lips as a result.
Though realization seemed to darken his expression, and his eyes left yours. The loss was one you felt immediately. 
“What?”
Jake must have felt the tension begin to seep into your body, because his thumb began to press slow, soothing circles against your hip. 
“Vee, I know you don’t need me to save you. You have never needed to be saved by anyone.” His brow furrowed a moment, and the hand still cradling your face dropped to meet the other at your hips. “But if you want to be… If you want someone else to help you carry all that weight on your shoulders. Well, that would be okay, too, alright?”
You weren’t certain, but when Jake met your gaze once again, you were almost positive there were tears welling in his eyes. The sight of his vulnerability rendered you speechless, so you nodded mutely, then managed a small ‘okay.’ It was instinctive for you to rest your forehead against Jake’s chest and allow his arms to envelope you in his embrace. More so than ever before.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been standing there when you finally spoke up again. “Hey, Jake?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“I love you.”
He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. Instead, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and tightened his arms around you. And maybe, just maybe, you thought… this wouldn’t be so bad. Whether it was 20 minutes or 20 years, you wanted as much of Jake as he was willing and able to give. 
Keep, alter, discard? You were definitely keeping this feeling.
2K notes · View notes
skellymom · 7 months
Text
"Cup Of Caf"
The Bad Batch CROSSHAIR One Shot
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Crosshair x NON GENDERED Reader (PLEASE put YOURSELF into this story! <3)
Background: Crosshair makes it to Pabu with all of his brothers and sister. Will he open himself up to another? What's his future there?
Word Count: 2.1K
Warning: Really none. This is sweetness, some angsty fluff, and character growth. Purposely wrote this piece for ANY reader! You can take this tale as friendship or the start of a blossoming love relationship. And, I purposely wrote NO GENDER/NO SPECIFIC SEXUALITY/POSSIBLY EVEN AGENDER into this story. It's about healing, sharing, growing, and decisions at one of many crossroads in life. Sometimes it's painful, but growth can be.
This One Shot is dedicated to Crosshair Fans, those of you struggling with hard decisions in life, loneliness, and to the amazing @lightspringrain whose art was one of my inspirations for this story.
(Her Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LightSpringRain Just placed my order for the holidays!
(Credit: Dividers by the talented @saradika)
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The leaves of the Cascade Tree rippled lazily in the ocean breeze.  Its boughs lifted just enough to reveal a man with a scarred head sitting under its canopy at the picnic table. 
You were surprised to see someone sitting there at... “your” table.  Not really yours, but no one else ever came down this far from the cliffs to watch the surf foam and roil against the shores of Pabu.  Every morning walking down to enjoy your cup of caf before starting the day.  Today, you were testing out a new mug, fresh off the pottery wheel: Jet black clay with metallic silver phases of the moon depicted in striking detail across its surface.  Debated selling this piece, hardly ever keeping anything for yourself. 
The man’s back was facing you at quiet approach.  He side-eyed you suspiciously, scowling.  Immediately recognized him as the newcomer to the island that arrived with his brothers and one sister.  Phee Genoa gushed about the one named, “Tech”.  She called him “Brown Eyes”.  This was the “Grumpy Brother” and was already gaining a reputation as anti-social. 
“Uh...hi.” 
Silence and unchanging side-eye.  He didn’t move from the spot and clearly wanted to be left alone. 
“Ok, leaving.” 
No reply.  He turned back around to stare at the crashing surf. 
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The next morning you arrived with your fully vetted new mug of caf to find...The Grumpy Man back in “your” spot. 
Kriff...what to do?  This was awkward.  While feeling rather put out and wanting to sit alone, you kind of felt for the guy.  The gossip around town was he had been through a lot before arriving in Pabu. 
Looking down at the untouched cup of caf:  How many people, yourself included, came to this planet looking for solace and safety?  How many of the residents of Pabu arrived with baggage before they healed and found community here?  How long did it take to be comfortable with others again? 
Your heart went out to the man all by himself sitting there.  It was an amazing view and perfect place to be alone. 
He turned, almost like he had heard your brain humming.  Again, scowling over his shoulder.  You stepped closer, but he didn’t budge and kept the suspicious side-eye.  You approached the table and set the steaming mug next to him. 
He seemed briefly surprised, with his features softening slightly. 
“Good morning, have a fresh cup on me.” 
You awkwardly walked away, leaving him alone with the caf.  Heart hammering in your chest.  
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After closing the pottery studio, you decided to stop by “your” spot on the way home.  The Grumpy Man was gone, but the mug was in the same position you left it.  You assumed he thought it a weird gesture and refused to touch the mug.  But you realized the coffee was gone and there was something in the bottom of the mug.  Turning it upside down, a seashell fell out.  A very pretty one too. It brought a smile to your face. 
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Next morning, you looked forward to engaging with Grumpy Man again.  The black and silver mug was washed and filled with hot caf for him.  Stopping at the local bakery you purchased a large cinnamon pastry on the way. 
Grumpy was there.  He didn’t turn when approached.  You set the mug with the pastry perched on top of it next to him. 
“Enjoy.” Walking away. 
“Did you like it?”  His voice was low, raspy, snakelike. 
“What?”  Stopping in your tracks and turning slightly to answer.  “Oh...yes.  Thank you.” 
“Hmmm...” 
That was all.  He said no more and kept his eyes on the crashing surf. 
You left and walked onward to the studio. 
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After close, you walked back to retrieve the mug.  It was empty of coffee and now and contained freshly picked flowers. 
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This carried on for several weeks.  Every morning you brought him fresh caf and something to eat.  After all, he was skin and bones.  Every day something different: a fat muffin, breakfast sandwich, fruit, grain-meal with honey, meats, cheeses, brunch cookies.  It was a culinary journey of Pabu, as you picked up things from local shops, or even threw together items from memory of family recipes.   
It was almost an obsession to keep this man guessing the food he would be eating.  Local shopkeepers noticed you out and about more, enquiring about your sudden social spree.  Tongues were starting to wag on the island.  You didn’t pay attention to gossip and could care less.   
Grumpy seemed to have a decent appetite.  You were quite sure he was indeed consuming the food. Of course, he could have thrown it down the ravine to the fish and sea birds, and you would be none the wiser.  It was obviously evident his man was thriving as he filled out, less bony, skin no longer a sickly pallor, and his hair was growing back.  Hair as silver as the moon. 
Every evening he would leave something in the mug as a gift.  An unspoken thanks for your kindness: 
The split egg of a sea bird, a marine fossil stone, polished sea glass, a cascade tree seed, feathers, bleached bones, a preserved Pabu Butterfly with striking iridescent wings.  He even left odd items that suggested a sense of humor.  The persnickety land crab attempting to fight you for the mug as its new home. The small octopus bobbing in the salt water filled cup...who inked you in the face. 
Every day was a welcome surprise.  
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You sat the mug and Meiloorun next to Grumpy. There were two covered plates on the table. 
He turned around to look you square in the eye.  “Sit with me.”  It wasn’t a question, but not an order either.  “Please.” 
This was surprising and you settled in next to Grumpy on the bench. 
He slid over a plate and uncovered it: Two stacked grain cakes with a whipped dairy smile and two berry eyes.  They were doused in rainbow candy sprinkles, sitting in a huge amount of sugary syrup. 
“Wow...uh.  I didn’t take you for a happy face kinda guy.”  Suddenly regretting the remark and holding your breath. 
He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “My sister made them.  SOMEONE in town tipped her off that I’m not alone during my ‘Alone Time’.” 
You burst out laughing.  How could you not? 
“Gets better.”  He uncovered the second plate: Two cooked sea bird eggs sunny side up with strips of cooked meat centered below them.  The “food face” was doused in ketchup to resemble a bullet hole to the head hemorrhaging blood.  “I’m more on board with this design.” 
You howled with laughter.  Grumpy cracked a small smile. 
“YOUR sister did THIS???  THAT innocent child?” 
“Mhm...” He snickered.  “Never.  She breathes and farts rainbows.  This is my brother's masterpiece.” 
The rainbow remark had you roaring again.  Wiping away tears.  His delivery was so unexpected.   
He handed you a fork.  Now that ALL his face was visible, you noticed the tattoo. 
He produced his own fork.  “Let's stab out the eyes and feast upon their faces.” 
“Wait!”  You lifted the mug of caf.  “First, we must drink the blood of our enemies and share the names of the victors.”  You were feeling giddy now...never considered maybe taking this Imagined Breakfast Massacre too seriously. 
It didn’t seem to matter to Grumpy.  In fact, he was smiling.  
“Y/N” You took a healthy sip of the caf and passed the mug to him. 
“Crosshair” He gulped the caf, giving you a mischievous look. 
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From that morning on you brought the cup of caf to share and HE brought the food.  His sister and brother would cook or bake for Crosshair and “his friend”.  According to him, they were overjoyed that he had not been spending his quiet days alone.  Then started incorporating his own ideas into the recipes.  Crosshair would regale you with “Tales of the Kitchen” interactions with him and his siblings as they cooked.  He shared secret ingredients, always asked your opinion on the recipes, and how they could be improved. 
However, after the food was eaten and the chatter died he would stare wistfully at the ocean.  Deep in thought, mulling over something.  You would ask and he would deflect with another topic.  Not wanting to push things, you let it go. 
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This sharing of food and caf carried on for several months.  Sometimes you were able to get bits of information out of him:  He was a military man before coming to Pabu and was in a special highly trained squad.  You asked about his mother and father.  He shrugged and said his parentage didn’t matter and that only his sister and brothers were important.  You carefully asked about the scar on the right side of his head, now fully covered with thick, unruly silver hair.  He glossed over it as an injury and no big deal.  He deflected by asking you about yourself.  This man was perfectly happy to talk less and hear you speak more.  He listened intently and threw brief tidbits in and sometimes his signature “Mmhmm.” 
Still, he seemed haunted by something and absolutely refused to talk about it.  You sensed it never really left his mind and constantly grappled with something deep.  Something he regretted with all his being. 
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You both sat at the table watching the surf, taking turns sipping from the mug of caf.  The breakfast platter was eaten and empty.  He was unusually quiet.   
Then he finally spoke. “I’m leaving Pabu.” 
“What?”  You, shocked. It seemed so sudden.  “Why???” 
“I...”  He sighed and looked down at the table.  “Need to make amends for certain...things.”  His expression was one of thinly veiled shame. 
“Don’t know what to say...” Struggling for words.  “How long will you be gone?” 
“I’m not coming back.”  His brows furrowed sadly.  There was a lot of emotion, and you could see the difficulty he had expressing it. 
Speechless, you stared ahead and watched the surf pull away from the shoreline.  There would be no more shared caf and breakfasts with this man.  The days of looking forward with anticipation to the mornings would end. 
You both sat for some time in silence, listening to the waves.  In...out...in...out...as if the island was breathing. 
Finally, you felt his gaze.  Turning to meet the saddest, deepest brown eyes.  Such a pitiful yet touching display that hit you even harder in the gut. 
“I’m...grateful to have shared the time we had together.  I don’t say that lightly.”  His hand slowly advanced palm up on the table begging to be joined with another. 
You slid your hand in his and squeezed.  “I’ll miss you.”  Tears forming in your eyes. 
He squeezed back, nodded, then let go.  Getting up from the table he whispered “Goodbye.”  
“Take this!  I made it for you...even if I hadn’t known it yet.”  You handed him the empty mug. 
He took it with a look of surprise.  Then he turned away before you could see the tears in his eyes. 
But you saw them.  You will never forget that.   
Then he was gone.   
You sat the rest of the day listening to the ocean breathe.  Watching the sun make its progression across the sky, finally dipping below the horizon.  You walked home under the stars of Pabu...one of them a low fast-moving light: A ship departing the planet. 
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Sleep was fretful.  Finally frustrated with tossing and turning, you got up, dressed and walked to the studio.  Firing up the lights, set the holo on your favorite “create playlist”, and sitting down at the potter’s wheel.  Tonight, there would be a new design even if it meant staying up all night to mold, dry, glaze, and fire this creation.  You threw yourself into the task, singing, and occasionally wiping away a stray tear. 
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The sun rose over Pabu.  You washed out the new creation: A mug of blazing crimson red, raised relief of the sun, with a magnificent metallic gold corona.  Fresh caf brewed in the studio.  You poured it steaming hot into the mug.  Then closed the studio for the day, leaving a message in the window when it would reopen, and proceeded down to “your” table. 
You expected to be alone once again...however...there was someone sitting under the Cascade Tree. 
She was blond, dark skinned and looked to be a young teenager.  You could tell she had been crying. 
“Hello?” 
“Sorry...Just wanted some privacy.  My brother would come here to sit and be alone.”  She moved to get up. 
“You don’t have to leave.  Please stay.” 
She spied the mug in your hand, and the pieces fell into place. 
“You’re Y/N!” Her eyes widened.  “He talked about you a LOT.  He’s never done that with anyone before.” 
Warm intense feelings welled up inside you.  They spilled out across your face in a smile. 
“What’s your name?” 
“Omega.” 
You set the mug of caf down in front of her. 
“Well Omega, looks like I made this for you...even though I hadn’t known it yet.” 
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PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!
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meraxesmoon · 10 months
Note
May I request Yandere Platonic team black and team green (all of them separate) with a fem reader who is very flirty and sleeps with any person she wishes because she gives into her desires. Her platonic Yandere friends will not be happy when they find out she has been sleeping with a bunch of guards and Lords and ladies. They do lock her up once finding out, but what if the reader flirts with them and tries getting them into bed with her? Reader has sexual feelings for them and wants them badly.
warnings: yandere, degenerate behavior, unhealthy sex habits, aegon is not platonic, I think, this is called being hypersexual right?, some religious undertones
┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑
Everyone is absolutely stressed.
I imagine that (Name) is like a sister to Rhaenyra, so Alicent most definitely blames her for their darlings corrupted nature. Otto tries to get their darling into some conversion therapy, but... it doesn't ever work.
The Targtower kids have very different views on (Name)'s sexual nature.
Aegon is the one who indulges in their sexual deviancy. I know everyone is supposed to be platonic, but I can definitely see him sleeping with (Name) if she would initiate it. He's a horny degenerative man and has little to no self-control. He'd happily jump into bed with (Name), and joins her in most of her sexual excursions. Aegon definitely gets a little jealous when he learns that (Name) is sleeping with tons of other people, though. He's sort of a baby.
Helaena is not involved. I can't imagine her having much interest in sex or anything similar, so she generally just shoots (Name) down when she wants to get freaky. Helaena adores her, of course, but she doesn't wish to be involved. That's not to say Helaena judges their darling, because she absolutely does not, but she just doesn't want any part of it.
Aemond would take after his mother in the way that he's very pious. He rarely takes part in any degenerative behavior, and is obviously repulsed by Aegon's behavior. You can imagine his panic when he realizes that his darling girl is sleeping around like that. Aemond finds this worrying, but ironically enough he doesn't blame his darling for their behavior. She's his sweet angel who can do no wrong! He's sort of delusional. If Aemond finds those who have corrupted his darling girl, they best pray for their lives.
As for Team Black, they're just... hypocritical. Rhaenyra especially.
Rhaenyra does not believe that her darling should be sleeping around with just anyone. She thinks that (Name) should be cautious of who they sleep with, and this mostly comes from her experience with Criston. Rhaenyra doesn't especially believe in sexual freedom. She just does whatever the hell she wants. However, she's also very protective of her little love, as she's very important to Rhaenyra.
Daemon, on the other hand, could care less. As long as (Name) is safe and not getting serious with anyone and debating marriage, he couldn't care less about who she's bringing into her bed. He just doesn't care, because he's also a whore <3
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tried a little bit different formatting, I feel like my posts look messy and I don't like that lol
I also didn't add any of the velaryon boys bc they're babies, the same goes for daeron
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romiantic · 11 months
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SPIDER SIS !
→ READING: older sister!black!reader
→ GENRE + WARNINGS: fluff + the n word is said
→ A/N: not to be confused, 1610!miles will be in red and 42!miles/miles g will be in purple. also y/n will perceive to be around my age, so 17-19 years old at the time of this writing !
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— being the eldest sibling/older sister is quite…chaotic. from the birth of your baby brothers to now, you’ve never known peace cause it’s always something with one of the two. miles g is arguing it’s you over the tv remote or miles is lost in his math homework
— cause of his smart mouth and pettiness, arguments with miles g would be a daily thing. from sun up to sun down this boy will find the most minuscule thing to argue with you about. one time he blamed you for missing his favorite show like it wasn’t 100% his fault….
— whenever you and miles g are arguing, miles would stay out of it and hang out with his parents. he never takes sides, since he loves you both equally, but he does try to hear both sides of the story. sometimes he’ll try to play peacemaker but it just….rarely works
— this nigga miles g is such a snitch omg. he wouldn’t snitch on miles often but you, he running to the nearest parent. majority of the time, you would have to bribe him to not saying nothing
— even through the chaos, it’s a loving essence with the two. through the fights and arguing, they both have deep love for their older sister, they wouldn’t trade you for the world. also, these two are veryyyy overprotective over you, sometimes too much
— anybody talk shit about any of you three is gonna get hit or flat out cussed out by you or miles g. especially miles g, he doesn’t play those games about his siblings and will buck at anybody, friend or foe, he don’t care
— if you have a crush on someone, please don’t tell either miles cause miles is gonna tell miles g and miles g will find their entire identity like he works for the CIA. don’t let it be a boy either cause miles g will watch that boy with daggers in his eyes
— the boys have put a lot of their trust in you! they feel like they can tell you anything and almost any secret, unless it’s too embarrassing
— when it’s not chaotic in the morales household, you guys are usually chillin in the living room either watching tv or doing your own thing. if anime is playing on the tv, all three of you subconsciously hop on the couch and watch it together
— watching anime together is one of the times you love hanging out with your brother the most. all three of you are huge anime nerds (the worst is miles g), so sitting around the couch to start a new anime or catch up on an old one is quite fun and peaceful. also, anime is a frequent conversation, a lot of debates happen and one too many spoilers from miles
— when you were younger, you used to help your mom wash the boys hair. if your dad was at work, which he more than likely was, your mom would ask to help wash and style one of the boys hair while she did the other. it was fun watching the toddler miles splashing water and throwing bath toys at each other
— miles g loves stealing your food and doesn’t give a single damn about it. if you doordash some food, don’t let miles g peep it or grab it for you cause he will steal something. you know what’s funny? he’ll steal your food and judge you for the food you bought like it was his money spent on it….
“why am I missing three tenders? there’s supposed to be eight”
“yeah n/n, that shit was dry as fuck. don’t order from that restaurant again”
“nigga- did YOU buy it?”
“I’m just sayin that I wouldn’t waste my money on no shit like that”
— all three of you have the most ridiculous nicknames for each other and it would be something that happened in y’all childhood. y’all even have code names if y’all talkin shit about each other
— the sibling group chat would go crazyyyy, but not all the time. usually it’s tiktoks, y’all talkin shit, or some fight video that happen in school. more than likely miles g was instigating the fight
— for miles + miles g 19th birthday, y’all got matching spider tattoos and miles g got a matching nose piercing with you !
— when the boys were first born, they had their ears pierced and y’all parents would try to get matching earrings for the three of you. but majority of the time it wouldn’t work cause miles g refused to wear small hoops or a pink earring, even if it was sorta boy-ish
— miles g was the first to learn cuss words in Spanish, so he would teach miles about it. miles was clueless and didn’t know about they were bad words until rio popped his hand and punished him about it. poor miles :(
— when it comes to relationships, the boys always run to you before running to your mom. they would describe the girl and ask if you know her. if not, you would find her info and become a wingman for your baby bros
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⭑ another long set of hcs, sigh
⭑ was this me mostly projecting being the oldest/big sister ? maybe !
⭑ lemme know if y’all want a part 2 cause I have so much to say for big sister reader 🤭
𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: Psalm 100:5
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SPIDERMAN: ATSV MASTERLIST + MAIN MASTERLIST
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗇𝗄𝗐𝖾𝖻. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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candywife333 · 8 months
Text
Fish-wife or No Wife
Summary: Did Jungkook have a wife? The rumor mill had been churning for years, divided on this one topic. He was a successful worldwide pop star who was always seen with a different lady on his arm, as he flitted from country to country enjoying his prolific career. The reason for the lingering suspicion was a cryptic social media post showing a picture of 2 kids who shared the same exact eyes and smile as him. So in fact, if he truly did have a wife, who was she? And why had the public never seen her? Perhaps she didn't wish to be seen.
Description : famous pop-star/idol jungkook x chubby y/n , might be two-shot or trilogy
Disclaimer: The character of Jungkook shown in this fanfic does not accurately represent Jungkook's true personality or actions. Please treat this story as fiction.
Trigger warnings: mild voyeurism, dub-con (still debating on this), rough sex
Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/candywife333/733312853462974464/fish-wife-or-no-wife
I looked out the window, joyously peering at the bevy of daisies and pink carnations crowding outside. As usual the entire mansion I lived in with my two kids, Iro and Mari, remained peacefully quiet except for their occasional tinkling laughter floating downstairs. My babies, aged 4 and 7 were having their tutoring sessions at home. The tutor, a sweet girl by the name of Lim Nara frequented our house to teach them math and science. They loved her as did I.
For the perhaps millionth time in the past 6 years, I patted myself on the back for the wise decision I had made. Marrying Jungkook was the smartest choice I had ever made. We had a marriage of convenience that the general public had no knowledge of. He had proposed marriage to me when he was left with Iro, still a baby at the time, after a one night stand with a foreign model.
I had always desperately wished for children, even as a I had worked a pretty rigorous career in PR for HYBE. Being 25 at the time, I wanted a life of leisure after working all throughout high school and college to support myself and my sister, Wei, when my parents had succumbed to loan sharks and eventual death at the hands of alcohol.
One night I had been getting ready to head home when Jungkook, the notorious play boy pop-star had stumbled into me as I was exiting the building. He had a baby in his hands, who could've been not more than 1 year of age. I didn't realize that I would meet the love of my life that night. I was arrested in place by the little chubby baby with fat rolls all over his little thighs and miniature arms, with soft curly black hair, a round face resembling that of the full moon, and big black eyes that sparkled with happiness and love.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. Shocked at bumping into the pop star with a little baby I had jolted in surprise, "Are you alright Jungkook-ssi? Everything ok with you? Do you need any help?" The indefinitely reserved man had expressively opened his doe shaped eyes as far as he could and stuttered in a manner unlike his usual, "Could you please take care of this baby for the night? I will pay you. I have to be at a fashion event which goes on later this night. And even though I tried contacting the baby sitter, she is not picking her phone up right now".
I was shocked for a few seconds at this sudden plea for help. I didn't even know Jungkook that well, except for a few meetings in which PR employees were required to iron out some rules about social media engagement for him and the rest of the members of BTS. Partly still paralyzed in bewilderment and a sudden unworldly connection with this beautiful little bundle of fluffy giggles and flailing chubby limbs, I took the baby from him, "Sure Jungkook-ssi. I don't mind watching the baby for the night."
Jungkook know his request had been odd and rather rude as Y/N was an entire stranger. However, he couldn't decline this event. It was a prelude to a bigger calvin klein shoot that would take place later this year in Tokyo. And he had to be there. Anna , baby Iro's mother, had left him on his doorstep in the most callous way, jetting off to Madrid for a different photo shoot with her modeling agency.
He had made the stupid mistake of not using protection that night, and had wrought the consequences. Jungkook stared at Y/N briefly, assessing her. Even though he knew she was not in a relationship, she looked like a mother. She was the type of girl who you knew would take care of babies and nurture them. She was curvy , with luscious thick hair cascading down her back and a very warm face. The quintessential girl next door. Nothing dazzling or glamorous to look at, but sweet and friendly. Like a neighborhood librarian. Or the girl next door who you could ask sugar from.
All the members of BTS knew she was the fixer upper of the PR time, very skilled at her job and aware of what she had to do to avoid bad press. Extremely efficient but kind, human in a way that they had not seen in years, even since their debut. Jungkook was at a loss for what to do and he had been coming to the agency to look for his manager. Yet, to his great luck he had found Y/N.
The next morning he had popped up at Y/N's apartment to take Baby Iro. When the door opened, he noticed Baby Iro giggling and playing with pokemon stuffed plushies in a corner as Y/N made something that smelled like sweet rice congee. She was dressed in a pink satin robe that concealed yet hinted at her lush frame. Her hair was in a bun as she ladeled him a bowl with a plate of cooked salmon and seaweed soup.
"Please eat, you must be exhausted from the shoot". As she walked over to Baby Iro, placing him on her lap as she persuaded him to take a bite of congee, Jungkook had the brightest idea. "Y/N, would you marry me?" Y/N almost fell off the sofa shocked at his sudden abrupt proposal. She chuckled in disbelief, mouth frozen in confusion, "What do yo mean Jungkook -ssi? Is this some type of prank?"
Jungkook ran over to hold her soft hands in his. He rambled, eager to get out his explanation before she put him outside his door on his way, "I need someone to look after Iro. With my lifestyle and the way I want to live, a baby does not fit into my plans. But I do not want to abandon my flesh and blood. If we are married, I will gaurantee you a third of my wealth written in a pre-nuptial and whatever else you would like. We would keep your identity hidden. Please consider my proposal. We can have a marriage of convenience, written out in a contract. No feelings, just business."
I stared at him in shock at his boldness and audacity. As the request filtered through my brain, I realized it for the great opportunity it was. I wouldn't have to serve a man, but would have all the privileges that came with being married to such a prominent star. He would barely be in the house, jetting god knows where with god knows who. And I could have wealth, peace, baby Iro and a baby of my own. Everything I yearned to have since I was a little girl. Babies of my own and money. Money that would not trap me into a desolate life. I could pay for Wei's college and set myself up for a stable life.
Measuring my words carefully, I solemnly uttered, "If you want this to happen, I want complete anonymity and my name written into the pre-nuptial with the amount you suggested. My only other stipulations are that I have a separate house for me and Iro, away from you. I need to ensure Iro has a stable upbringing without having to see models and other stars come in and out of the house constantly. The last condition is that I would like to have your child. We can do this through artificial insemination in a clinic. I have always wanted a house with children and if you intend on asking something this big from me, I intend to do the same. You and I will never engage in sexual intercourse and will keep this strictly a marriage of convenience. You will visit the kids at least once a month. I have no other say in what you do with your life, and wish you follow the same boundaries with me".
He sat there shell shocked at my quick rejoinder to his preposterous proposition, chewing on his lip ring , bangs occluding his dark eyes, pondering my requests. His voice reverberated through the room with finality, " I agree. You have a deal. I will have my lawyers draw the papers and that is what we shall do." We had a civil ceremony the next day itself, taking less than 15 minutes for the signing of the papers. He had looked disinterested and barely spoke through the ceremony.
After this interaction, I didn't see him till 2 months later. I had shifted into a beautiful house resembling a gargantuan cottage placed in Jeju near the coast. It was exactly what I had been hoping for, a home, away from the pollution of the city. He had written a third of his wealth into the pre-nuptial, which would be used at my discretion. The first thing I did was to pay off Wei's tuition for university and any debt our parents had left us.
I took a decent sum of what he had written in my name and invested it in many other tiny resorts in Jeju, making sure that the money would multiply. My kids and I would be set for generations. That was the aim. Iro was growing day by day, from a chubby little baby who giggled and snorted at the swaying daffodils and baby turtles that washed up onto the beach near the house, to a healthy glowing kid, friendly and happy, intelligent with a beautiful voice reminiscent of his father.
Jungkook kept his promise and showed up for a fortnight once a month to visit Iro the first year. The year after, his visits decreased. And with each passing birthday of Iro, the visits dwindled even further. He had kept his promise of providing sperm for artificial insemination, and as Iro turned 4, I had Mari. Wei came to help me during that time and we both watched Iro. The nights together were beautiful. Wei would help me cook all my favorite dishes and desserts, as we relaxed with house staff in the evenings, setting up beach promenades and tiny little parties for Iro and baby Mari.
My life became exactly as I envisioned it. Born on Christmas, Mari showed up as a mischievious chubby little tot into the world, breaking the glasses of the doctor who had delivered her. She was ridiculously strong, turning over entire flower beds even at the age of 2, learning to walk ridiculously quickly. Breastfeeding her was a travesty. She would tug at my nipples impatiently with her teeth sometimes , forcing the milk to enter her mouth.
My babies and I were living the dream. Jungkook stopped showing up a month before my delivery. He never saw Mari or Iro. From tabloids and news, Wei and I gathered that he was too busy hanging out with his members, attending parties and fashion events, living the busy pop star life. The tabloids held sensational titles of his new paramours, a new one close to every month. The women were so beautiful, otherworldly compared to me. I stayed healthy but curvy, thick thighs and butt, with a plusher stomach. The only drastic change to my body were the big boobs that had been blessed from pregnancy, that grew to be 2 bigger cups.
I had loose skin, and cellulite, and slightly droopy breasts. But I was happy and peaceful. I had everything I could ask for, taking care of my babies, stacking our money continuously as I wrote novels under a pseudonym. My romance novels were popular, and I had a book signing lined up next month in Seoul I intended to take the kids to as well.
Just as I was booking tickets for Seoul, I received an invite from Jungkook's secretary, "Hello Ms. Y/N. Mr. Jeon Jungkook is requesting you attendance for a banquet that is happening in his main residence. His parents will be attending and he would like to introduce the kids to them. Please promptly be there in the next 2 weeks at 9 AM. Thank you."
Well I guess the kids and I would be going sooner than I expected.
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its-vannah · 2 years
Text
You're On Your Own Kid | Jacaerys x Reader
A/N: Before you read, please note: Your son, Lucerys, was named after Lucerys Velaryon the first. It's not the same Luke in the book/show. Secondly, the fic starts in "present day" and shows your life six years earlier, one day earlier, and six months later. Hope that clears up any confusion.
Warnings: Slight fluff, major angst, death of a major character, pregnancy, mentions of blood, mentions of death, it's just sad y'all
Midnights Masterlist
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You were dressed in black. Black gown, gloves, shoes, necklace. There was not a hint of color on your clothing. And there was not a hint of happiness on your face.
Taking your young son's hand in yours, he looked up at you with a sad expression, tilting his head full of curls, "Mother?"
Turning your head to look down at him, you responded sadly, "Yes, my love?"
"Why is everybody so sad?" He asked, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes, "It's making me sad."
You've got no reason to be afraid
Your heart softened, and you kneeled down to his level, your hands on either side of your face, "My sweet boy, it's a sad day. It's okay to feel hurt and upset. You just can't feel that was forever, my love."
He nodded, leaning into you, his small hands wrapping around your neck, "Will you be sad forever, too?"
Biting down on your bottom lip, a stream of tears fell down your face, "Oh, Lucerys, you're so much like your uncle."
"He died, too."
Brushing the curls out of his face, you nodded, "We were devastated when he died. That's why we named you after him."
He nodded, looking down at your swollen stomach, "Then are you going to name the baby after father?"
I play it cool with the best of them
You held your son tighter to you, desperate to hide your tears from him, "I don't yet know, my love."
"I think you should," He said, innocently, "Wherever father is, I think he'd like that."
Pressing a kiss to his temple, you rose from the ground, "I think he would, too."
Clearing your throat, you took his hand once again, "Come on, Luke, we don't want to be late."
"How will we be late?" He questioned, "Father's already gone."
-------------------------------
6 Years Earlier
Summer went away, still the yearning stays
It was nearly fall, and you were sitting beside Jacaerys on a couch by the fireplace. He was in deep conversation with Baela, arguing over who has the better dragon.
I wait patiently, he's gonna notice me
Casting frequent glances at him, you waited endlessly for him to look towards you.
Finally, after the debate ended when Baela was called by her sister, he turned to you, shaking his head.
The jokes weren't funny, I took the money
The moment she left, he opened his mouth, "I have the better dragon, right?"
You gave him a halfhearted smile, "Of course, Jace."
It's okay, we're the best of friends
"See? That's what friends are for, boosting one's ego," He grinned, resting his head on the back of the couch, "What would I do without you?"
I touch my phone as if it's your face
You ran your fingers over the book in your lap, releasing a small sigh, "I'm not sure, and I don't want to find out."
"My mother's suggesting I marry soon." He admitted, playing with the signet ring on one of his fingers, twisting it left and right.
Your heart started beating, faster and faster, "She is? Who did she suggest?"
"Well, she first mentioned Baela, then one of Cregan's sisters..." He trailed off, sending a quick glance towards you.
I picked the petals, he loves me not
"Well, have you made your decision?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt in your eyes.
Jace shook his head, "Not, not yet."
I'll run away
"My father is asking when I'd like to return home," You say, inhaling sharply.
"Already? I feel as though you've just arrived."
I didn't choose this town, I dream of getting out
You shrugged, "I'm sure I've overstaued my welcome."
"You don't wish to stay longer?"
There's just one who could make me stay
"With your upcoming engagement, I would want to cause any sort of tension."
Just to learn that you never cared
Jace stays silent for a moment. You take that silence as an invitation to leave the room. pursing your lips, you excuse yourself, abruptly standing.
I see the great escape, so long, Daisy May
Making your way towards the doors, you count your steps. One, two, three, four, five—
I hear it in your voice
That's when Jace calls out to you, "What if you stayed?"
You turned to face him, "Jace..."
Just to learn that my dreams aren't rare
"My mother suggested another betrothal. One I've dreamt of since the day I met her," He said, taking small steps towards you.
Take the moment and taste it
He met you by the door, taking your hands in his, "I want you to—I need you to be my wife."
You squeezed his hand, your voice just above a whisper, "Are you certain?"
You always have been
"I've never been more certain in my whole life."
Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss
Jace leaned into you, his lips moving against yours, your hands still intertwined with one another.
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One Day Earlier
Everything you lose is a step you take
Stumbling as you made your way towards your husband's lifeless body, your legs gave out beneath you once you reached him.
Unable to control the sobs that wracked through you, you pulled his body towards you, your hand caressing your face as you had done the night before he rode out.
I looked around in a blood-soaked gown
Your cries echoed throughout the hall, his blood seeping into your dress.
I searched the party of better bodies
Looking around frantically, you yelled out for help, "Help him, please, help him, someone, please, Jacaerys!"
My friends from home don't know what to say
But no one did anything. They watched as you begged for help, but there was nothing that could've been done.
Your forehead resting on his, the room went silent except for the gasps of air you took after bouts of tears.
"Jacaerys..." you whispered, your eyes fluttering open.
And I saw something they can't take away
Even with you blurred vision, you saw the metal ring on his finger. Sliding it off, you traded it with your own.
Yeah, you can face this
Pressing a kiss to his lips, you stayed there for a while, covered in blood and filled with silence.
-------------------------------
Six Months Later
Giving one last push, your daughter was born at the beginning of summer.
I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this
Panting heavily, she was placed on your chest moments later, eyes shut as she whimpered.
Shushing her, you stroked her cheek with your finger, "Shhh, my love, mother's here."
She stopped crying soon after, falling asleep in your arms.
After a while, you grew restless, desperate for your son to lay eyes on his sister.
Turning to the wet nurse, you requested that she being Lucerys to you.
After a few minutes, a small figure with a head of curls entered the room, hand in hand with his grandmother.
Practically sprinting towards you, he climbed into the bed, twisting his head to get a better look at the baby that lay on your chest.
"She's beautiful, mother," He smiled, "She looks like father."
Looking down at her, you realized she had Jace's eyes, nose, and mouth. The only resemblance she had of you was your skin tone and hair color. It seemed as though he had made her all by himself.
You've got no reason to be afraid
"I'm never going to let anyone hurt her." He said, crossing his arms.
You're on your own, kid
You wish he could've been here to see them. His children. They shared the same love Jace and his brother, Luke, had. But you were on your own.
Lucerys looked up at you, "What's her name, mother?"
"Do you remember what you told me before your father's funeral?"
He shook his head, "No, mother. I was sad."
"You asked if we could name her after your father."
He raised a brow, "Her name is Jacaerys?"
You let out the first smile you had in a long time, brushing your son's hair, "No, my love."
"Then what's her name?"
"Jacyra."
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courtofterrasen · 2 months
Text
I’m just about done with finals, so I decided to gather up a quick list of over 50+ different POC women characters with actual good stories and character development as well as what they’re in, since you guys seem to be complacent in accepting mediocrity🥰
I know there are A LOT more REALLY GOOD characters out there, like Firebird from Marvel for example, but these are all characters from media that I either have personally consumed or know a lot about that I can think about off the top of my head. So if anyone wants to keep the list going in the comments, please feel free to add on
Charlotte- Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story
Shuri- Black Panther (MY LOVE😭❤️)
Okoye- Black Panther
Nakia- Black Panther
Queen Ramonda- Black Panther
Katara- ATLA
Korra- LoK
Toph- ATLA
Azula- ATLA
Beauregard- Critical Role: Campaign 2
Fy’ra Rai- Critical Role: Exandria Unlimited
Opal- Critical Role: Exandria Unlimited
Deni$e- Critical Role: Campaign 3
Deanna- Critical Role: Campaign 3
Lady Kima: Critical Role: Campaign 1/ Legends of Vox Machina
Laerryn: Critical Role: Exandria Unlimited: Calamity
Veth Brenatto- Critical Role: Campaign 2
Mirko- My Hero Academia
Ahsoka (people refer to her as a POC character even though she’s a Togruta)
Moana
Mulan
Tiana- Princess and the Frog
Esmeralda- The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Nani- Lilo and Stitch
Raya- Raya and the Last Dragon
Mel- Arcane
Ambessa Medara- Arcane
Sevika- Arcane
(Special shout out to Ekko from Arcane because he’s SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER)
Storm- Marvel comics
Wonder Woman- DC comics (she is Mediterranean, which is located in the North Africa/ Europe/ West Asia region, for the incels who are going to try to fight me on that. Just because your skin has less melanin than people “think you should have” does not invalidate you being a POC)
Nubia- DC comics
Special shoutout to General Nanisca in The Woman King. I have not watched it yet, but I’ve heard a lot of great things
Valkyrie- Thor Ragnarok
Gamora: Guardians of the Galaxy (though, she’s not human, she’s a Zen-Whoberis, but her actress is Dominican and Puerto Rican)
Ava Silva- Warrior Nun
Sister Beatrice- Warrior Nun
Sister Lilith- Warrior Nun
Deyha- Genshin Impact
Candace- Genshin Impact
Xinyan- Genshin Impact
Janai- The Dragon Prince
Ursula- Once Upon A Time
Mulan- Once Upon a Time
Lucyna “Lucy” Kushinada- Cyberpunk: Edgerunners
Mermista- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Catra- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Lonnie- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Netossa- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Entrapta- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Perfuma- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Mara- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Frosta- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
(All of whom are Etherian’s, not Terran’s, which would equivalate people from earth)
Mazikeen- Lucifer
Wednesday Addams- The Addam’s Family/ Wednesday
Calliope “Cal” Burns- First Kill
Talia Burns- First Kill
Yennefer- The Witcher (actress is of Indian descent.)
Triss- The Witcher (some debate can be had about this due to her character in the games being white and her actress in the show having South African heritage. I enjoy them both equally)
I would add Pocahontas to this list, but the Disney recreation of her story is an extremely incorrect and awful retelling, so I implore you to go and look up the story of Amonute/ Matoaka, which is the true name of Pocahontas. It’s not an easy story to hear, but I feel as though people need to know her true story instead of Disney’s romanticized one.
Also, if you guys REALLY want a good female POC pirate story, check out the story of the most successful pirate in the world named Ching Shih, aka Cheng I Sao. She was a woman born in Guangdong, China in the late 18th century and worked as a prostitute until she caught the eye of Cheng I, the notorious Commander of the Red Flag Fleet. After buying and marrying her, he noticed her intelligence, leadership skills, and determination, so he began to teach her about life in the high seas. She quickly adapted and helped him lead his fleet, and when he died she assumed full control over his fleet and amassed 1,800 ships and 80,000 pirates under her control and became the most feared pirate leader of her time. It’s a VERY cool story
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Kiyoomi scrunches her nose. She’ll never get Motoya’s obsession with plants. It was fine when it was just succulents, those are easy enough to take care of, but flowers fucking reek.
It’s not a bad smell per say, but it’s stupidly strong in this shop, even with her mask up. They’re pretty at least, she’ll give them that.
She’s debating between the pretty blue flowers and the silly, warm yellow ones. Motoya should have never trusted her judgment, how’s she supposed to resist the urge to tease her for always being in a yellow coloured team? At least Kiyoomi can say she’s escaped it in the Black Jackals cause gold isn’t yellow.
“Is there anythin’ I can help you with?” A pretty blonde girl in a red apron asks. Kiyoomi nearly jumps out of her skin, where’d she come from?
“Um, can I get these?” Kiyoomi points at the two, ready to bolt out of here because Employee Girl is way too gorgeous for her to not make a fool out of herself. Her palms are sweaty and she’s so grateful her mask is covering half her face.
The girl leans in way too close to Kiyoomi’s space and reads the labels, “Cornflower and fressia? I can put them together for you but d’you wanna check out the white freesia’s instead? They’d be real pretty together.”
“Yeah, sure.” Kiyoomi could be asked for her credit card information right now and she’d hand it over no questions asked. What did she ask her for again?
“Great, they’re over this way.” Employee Girl walks away and what else is Kiyoomi supposed to do but follow?
The flowers they stop at all look the same to Kiyoomi but she holds her breath as the girl talks about a few different ones, pointing them out and saying stuff about how pretty things look prettier together. Her name tag reads “Miya O.” A pretty name for a pretty girl. She wonders what the O stands for.
“That sound good?”
Kiyoomi nods, Miya’s voice sounds great in fact.
“Well you’re in luck! We finished our orders for today so I can put it together for ya right now but please submit a request a few days in advance next time. We’re pretty busy during the afternoon so ya picked a decent time to come in.”
Miya picks a few different flowers and the blue ones from before – the cornflowers – and heads to the back. Kiyoomi wants to protest but she’s just a customer and Miya’s an employee doing her job.
Miya peeps her head out after closing the door. She bites her lip before calling out, “Can I ask ya for a favour?”
“Uh, sure.”
“If ya see a girl with my face try an’ clock in, tell her she’s s’pposed to be in bed right now. My sister’s a bit of a workaholic, I stole her name tag this mornin’ for her own good.”
She assumes Miya means that she’s a twin but that’s not fair to her at all. She’s just a girl. Kiyoomi only hopes she won’t have to see the two of them together. One pretty girl’s bad enough for her heart as is.
The time passes by in a blur. At one point she’s keeping a vague eye out for Miya’s clone to walk in while looking at the different flowers; the next she’s being given her bouquet, paying for it, and waving bye to the prettiest girl in the world.
Oh well, it’s not like she’s the main character in a yuri manga.
Kiyoomi drops off the flowers at Motoya’s. She’s supposedly too busy taking care of her sick girlfriends to make the trip herself. Kiyoomi wonders if that excuse is just bullshit since it’s been months and she’s still not met Osamu and Rin yet. Unfortunately, Motoya’s apartment’s stuffy and reeks of sickness so maybe there’s some truth to Motoya’s words.
Maybe.
“You got the flowers?” Motoya closes her room door behind her, thankfully right before a loud sneeze is released by one of her definitely real girlfriends. Well there goes that bet Kiyoomi had going with Yachi.
“Yeah, I still don’t get why you can’t have a normal hobby. These things die in like, a week.”
Motoya fusses over the flowers for a bit, making them nice and pretty in a clean vase that held her last bouquet. “One, Samu gets all blushy when I give her flowers and two, I just like them. It’s low stakes responsibility that forces me to have my shit together.”
Kiyoomi snorts. Motoya’s always had her shit together, even if it looks like a mess on the outside. Her cousin is one of the most ruthlessly competent people she knows.
“Hey Kiyo, where’d you get these by the way?” Motoya asks cutting the store tag off a stem.
“Doesn’t it say there?” Kiyoomi asks. “Miya’s Boutique I think.”
“Well whichever employee rang you up left you a little something.” Motoya tosses the label to her with a smug little smirk.
Kiyoomi wants to shove her hand into her face to wipe it off, but Motoya would lick her first and she doesn’t want to think about where her tongue’s been, sick partners or not.
She takes a look at the what Motoya meant and pretends like the name and numbers aren’t sending a rush of blood straight to her face. She carefully tucks it into a pocket while maintaining eye contact with her menace of a cousin. Motoya can smell the smallest twinge of embarrassment in a crowd and she is not to be trusted to mind her own business.
She laughs at nothing, like the airhead Kiyoomi’s always known her to be, but there’s something unsettling in the knowing glint in her eyes. Kiyoomi firmly ignores it: if it isn’t acknowledged, it isn’t real.
“Oh this is killing me, Kiyo you’ve gotta come over next week. Please I think I’ll die.” Motoya abandons her flowers in favour of hanging off of her arm and giving her stupid puppy eyes. “You can bring whoever left you their number. Actually, please bring them, you’ve gotta.”
Fuck, how’s Kiyoomi supposed to say no to her puppy eyes.
“Fine, but fat chance I bring her over.”
Motoya sniffs hautily, like Kiyoomi’s doing her a great disservice. “You’ll regret it.”
“Doubt it,” Kiyoomi sighs, hoping future-her doesn’t give in to Motoya’s ridiculous demands.
She leaves with a halfhearted wave, feeling preemptive disappointment in herself because she knows Motoya’s not going to let her go so easily. Whatever. She’s got better things to spend her energy on.
How many i's in a “hi” is too desperate to send?
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starhvney · 2 months
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒: 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒
𝐂𝐖: bullying, fighting, slight mention of blood (bloody nose)
𝐀/𝐍: me after writing this in one day :3 sleep? nuh uh
𝐖𝐂: 5,100 +
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒
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the morning air felt perfect against your face as you resisted falling back asleep while standing in front of aphmau’s house. the red door that distantly stood in your vision reminded you of last evening, when you felt much less calm than now.
you hold your breath as you slowly turn to look behind you, scanning the quiet street. the black vehicle no longer stood out against your vision, your eyes only meeting vacant asphalt where it had been before. 
the early morning sun still felt cool as it reflected off the puddles on the ground, evidence of last night’s rainy storm. your lungs shakily deflate as you relax, focusing on the morning birdsong and distant cars passing on a main street nearby.
clearing your throat, you decide to just text aphmau to ask what was taking so long. your messages immediately pull up to last night’s conversation.
laurance: hey, i have to walk to school tomorrow cause my sister isn’t going
laurance: want to meet up and walk together tomorrow?
aphmau: yeah!
you: yeah for sure! meet in front of aph’s at 7:40.
laurance: cool, i’ll see you guys in the morning!
aphmau: goodnight!
you: goodnight guys :)
read yesterday, 9:20 pm
you hum to yourself, tapping your shoe against the sidewalk as you switch to your messages with aphmau.
you: i’m out front, you almost ready?
aphmau: yeah, so sorry! got distracted ><
aphmau: i’ll be outside in a sec
you: no prob!
it’s only a minute later that aphmau appears from her front door, hair bouncing as she quickly jogs down the steps and stops in front of you. her hair is down today, falling in light, natural-looking curls against her shoulder. 
“i woke up late and didn’t feel like styling my hair,” she explains, patting down her loose strands when she notices your gaze directed on her head.
“it’s pretty,” you simply return, reassuring her with a smile and a nod.
she relaxes, muttering a “thank you,” before rubbing her eyes with a yawn.
“did you stay up late or something?”
aphmau freezes, before slowly nodding her head.
“uh, yeah… there’s this online friend i have. i accidentally stayed up too late with him playing our favorite game together.”
you make a small “ooohh” sound in return.
“that’s fun. have y’all been friends for a long time?”
“yeah! like, two years.”
“aw, that’s nice. what does he look like, what’s his name?”
“uhhh…”
you blink, staring at her expectantly.
“well, we don’t know what each other looks like… and his online name is fc.” she admits, pressing her lips together and tugging on a strand of her hair. 
“…you’ve been friends for two years but you don’t even know each other's names? what if he’s some random old man?”
aphmau huffs, crossing her arms.
“well, i mean… i think it’s safer if we’re both anonymous. besides, we’re just friends.”
you hum, tilting your head in thought.
“yeah. i guess you’re right.”
aphmau bites her lip, eyebrows pinching together as she looks away in thought. she glances back at you hesitantly, like she was debating whether she should bring something up to you or not.
“what is it?”
“…i’m just nervous about the whole ivy situation.”
you sigh, biting your lip as you stare down at your feet in thought.
“she’s smart about how she’s doing it. no witnesses, holding the risk of our reputations over our heads. we need to find a way to get her caught without making it obvious.”
“morning!” laurance calls from behind you, his voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.
you turn to greet the boy, taking in his appearance. he seemed to have rushed this morning, the tie to his uniform slightly undone and hair still mussed from sleep.
“we’ll figure something out later,” you whisper to aphmau, to which she nods briskly.
“what’s up?” he asks, noticing your hushed voices and secretive formation.
“we’re having a secret girl meeting. without you.”
his eyebrows raise in surprise before he barks out a small laugh in amusement.
“fair enough.”
you haven’t seen aphmau for most of the day since you parted from her at the school’s front doors—and it was something that was bothering you.
based on the smug tilt of ivy’s lips when she watched you walk into your homeroom this morning, you have a serious feeling she’s up to something, and you definitely prefer to be with aphmau when it happens.
does she genuinely not have anything better to do?
your stomach feels heavy as you enter the art classroom, especially when your eyes land on the kind-natured blonde who smiles and waves at your appearance. you feel bad at the tempting thought to ignore his welcoming face and sit on the other side of the classroom, just to avoid the wrath of the snake who now stays wrapped up in your thoughts.
your jaw sets in place, stubbornly throwing away the idea as soon as it enters your head. it’s not his fault, and you weren’t going to throw away your chance at a new friend group because of some girl’s crazy crush. 
“hey guys,” you greet your small friend group, sitting between laurance and aphmau and leaning over to smile at garroth.
your eyes stay trained on aphmau’s for an extra moment longer as you lean back. she merely blinks, smiling calmly at your silent questioning. she hasn’t had any run-ins, then. good.
“ok, class. today we’re going to practice by doing a figure-drawing exercise. would anyone like to be a model for the class?”
you blink in surprise as aphmau’s hand raises, volunteering with an, “i will!”
“not as shy as i thought,” laurance notes as aphmau strides her short legs to the center of the classroom, hoisting herself up onto the stool.
“anxious but extroverted. an interesting combo,” you conclude his thought with a laugh as garroth scoots closer to the two of you.
the three of you start your portraits, your chatter quieting as you focus on the drawings in front of you. occasionally, garroth glances at yours and laurance’s pages, his lips forming into a pout out of the corner of your eye. you turn to look at him, tilting your head forward to catch his eye as he glares down at his paper.
“what?” you question him simply, your smile light and teasing.
his eyes nervously dart to you, unable to escape as you lean into his vision.
“ugh,” he groans, scribbling his graphite harshly against the page. “i’m just not good at art.”
he hides his work from you with his arm as you lean forward, trying to get a glance at his page.
“i’m sure it’s not that bad,” you encourage, lightly tugging on his forearm.
his ears turn red, barely hidden by the medium-length sandy blonde strands that curled around them. he sighs in defeat, lifting his arm to reveal the crude drawing underneath. laurance immediately giggles in amusement from beside you, his hand muffling the noise as he glances over your shoulder. 
garroth turns to glare at him, and you deliver a light kick to the boy’s shin with a scolding look.
“no, yeah. it’s not that bad!” laurance says between laughs, before snorting as he looks down at the page again. “not bad at all.”
you pitifully glance back at garroth who was now blankly staring at his page, the corner of his lips turning down in an embarrassed smile.
“well… i see his potential. if he practiced-”
“aw, i think you’re too sweet on him,” laurance leans into you, ruffling your hair with a grin. “no need to lie.”
“don’t be rude! everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”
laurance glances down at your page with a pointed look and raised eyebrows. 
“funny, coming from clearly the best artist out of the three of us. no need to be humble.”
you sigh, exasperated at laurance’s teasing nature.
“yeah, you’re way better than i could be, even if i practiced,” garroth glances over at your sketch.
“well, i practice art a lot as a hobby. if i went out and tried to play baseball or soccer i’d probably never be on either of your levels. it’s not a bad thing, i’ve just never played.”
garroth purses his lips, still staring down your and laurance’s pages.
“can you teach me?”
“huh?”
“can you give me some tips on how to draw better?”
you blink, before nodding with a smile. “yeah, sure. maybe you two can teach me to play your sports as payment.”
he smiles, and laurance ruffles your hair once more before leaning off of you.
“sure, sounds like a good deal to me. speaking of, laurance, how’s the soccer team looking this year?”
“you play soccer?” aphmau questions, returning back to her place as garroth makes room for her.
“yep! i’m the captain this year.”
“woah, awesome!”
“yeah, and i haven’t forgotten about the schedule. i’ll give one to both of you when it comes out.”
“like you don’t have fan girls lining up to watch you already,” garroth rolls his eyes. “looking to add to your collection.”
“hey! this is different,” laurance pouts. “and you’re one to talk about fangirls.”
you make eye contact with aphmau, who gives you a look that says, “no, seriously.”
“and to answer your question,” he sighs. “the team is a mess this year. all our good players graduated last year. we’ll be lucky to make it through the season in one piece. what about you?”
“meh, it’s fine so far. dante’s been coming to practice and he’s not half bad. we might have a decent lineup.”
that was that gene guy’s little brother, right? you haven’t met him yet.
the bell interrupts your conversation, signaling the beginning of the athletics period.
“ok, class! be sure to turn in your drawings at the front before leaving. you’re dismissed. oh, and miss salome, you can turn in any drawing next class period so i can evaluate your skill level.”
“oh, okay! thank you!”
“ooh, real quick! let’s take a selfie!” aphmau whips out her phone, pulling you in by the arm and waving at the two boys to get in frame.
“hm? what for?” garroth questions, though still leans down, perching his head close to yours.
“ummm… cause we’re art buddies!” she shrugs, making room for laurance as he squeezes his face in the shot between our shoulders.
the four of you smile, and she clicks in a few pictures before letting the three of you go.
“those were cute. send me them, please!” you ask, leaning over her shoulder and gazing at the photos on her screen.
“me too.” the boys say in unison, and she joyfully nods at all of your requests.
“oh, here’s my number so you can send that to me,” he says, pulling a loose sheet of paper from his bag and scribbling down on it, ripping it in half and handing one to each of you.
garroth and laurance wave as your group splits apart by the doorway, leaving you walking with aphmau down the hall.
“where are you going for athletics, aph?”
“i think the off season kids are running on the track today. are you going?”
“actually, i was gonna practice volleyball today. katelyn invited me.”
“ooh, that’s fun! maybe i can skip out and watch…?” she wonders aloud, stopping in front of one of the girls' bathrooms. “oh hey, i need to use the restroom, mind waiting for me?”
you shrug, following her in and leisurely stopping in front of the mirror to check yourself out while she steps into one of the stalls. you notice her go in with her backpack, and you curiously stare at the closed stall door.
“oh, are you changing in here?”
“…yeah. i don’t really like changing in front of people, and all of the bathroom and shower stalls kept getting taken before i could get to them last week. that’s how i ended up alone with ivy and her group on friday—cause i had to wait to change.”
you hum softly in understanding.
“that makes sense. i usually face the wall when i change,” you purse your lips in thought. “if you want, we can start changing in here and walking to the gym together.”
you hear a sigh of relief as you hear  her clothes shuffle some more and the stall door unlock. she comes out in the athletics uniform, tying up her hair in a ponytail and kicking her backpack out onto the floor in front of her. 
“that would be awesome, you’re the best.”
you smile with a shrug, turning to the bathroom door when you hear it swing open. the smile immediately drops when you see ivy step in, her nose wrinkling at you as if she had just smelled something foul. her shorter friend–who you still haven’t caught the name of–silently walks in behind her, face still and emotionless as she looks the two of you up and down.
“well if it isn’t the two tramps trying to steal my man from me.”
you can’t help but scoff at her, stepping closer to aphmau and picking her backpack up, singing it up for her to grab. you feel a strange burning sensation in your chest, hands beginning to shake from anger. 
“i’m not even going to entertain your petty jealousy. maybe if you weren’t so pathetic about your crush you’d actually be dating garroth, but instead you’re harassing his friends the first second he makes any,” you snatch aphmau’s wrist, dragging her past the two girls before they could block your way out and turning to the taller girl as she stares at you in disgusted shock.
“stop messing with us. unlike you, i don’t make empty threats.”
aphmau yelps as her hand slips from yours, her head snapping back as ivy’s polished fingers wrap around her ponytail.
you whip around, using the momentum to slide your bag off your shoulders and swing it around into the girl’s head. she lets go of her teary eyed victim, carmine hair flying out of place as she stumbles back.
her friend doesn’t seem too loyal about the situation, stepping back to the wall as she watches everything unfold with dispassionate eyes.
you don’t pay much mind to her, vision red as you focus in on the girl clutching her head as she turns her head back to you with an equally furious look on her face. you pull aphmau out of the way, practically sliding her across the tile before digging your fingers into ivy’s uniform shirt and using your leg to kick her knees out from under her, taking you both down to the ground.
“bitch.”
she lets out an irritated shriek, her hands flying up and catching you right in the nose. you groan in pain, eyes tearing up and giving her an opening to rip at the strands of your hair, her nails raking and scratching your cheek.
“stop!” aphmau calls your name, sounding worried and shaken.
you ignore her pleading voice, too focused on the strange burning and flooding sensation in your nose. gritting your teeth, you use one hand to hold her wrist from ripping a chunk of your hair out, sitting above her as you wind your other hand back and deliver a harsh slap against her face. her hand lets go of you, instead covering her face as you ball your fist, punching her head and pulling at her hands to try and get a better hit in.
“ladies!” a stern feminine voice pierces the hallway, causing you to freeze in place.
you turn with wide eyes to see mrs.hwit marching towards you all, her expression full of disbelief and disappointment.
“just what do you think you’re doing?!”
you immediately regret what you did, glancing down at the girl. her cheek was red from where you slapped her and her round bright blue eyes were filled with tears as she manipulatively blinked up in innocence at the teacher. 
“mrs.hwit,” she blabbers, her demeanor completely different from just before. “aphmau attacked me again and got her friend to join in!”
“silence, miss veleno.” the stern gray-haired lady snaps, hands firmly placed on her hips. 
you clamber back from where you sat on top of her, chest heavy when you realize what you just did sets in. you watch ivy flinch at the harsh tone mrs.hwit gave her, clearly unexpecting for this to not go her way.
“but—“
“this is the second fight you’ve been involved in, ivy, and from the looks of it you did a good amount of beating on this young lady as well. for goodness sake, her nose is bleeding. don’t play innocent.”
your eyebrows pinch as your hand gingerly comes up to your nose, a soft moan of pain leaving your lips at the dull pain. you retract your hand to see red smeared across it. now that the adrenaline has begun to leave your body, you also become aware of how the blood has begun to drip down into your mouth and chin, leaving a gross metal taste against your tongue. your cheek burns and pulses where ivy dug into it with her nails.
“i should give all four of you detention. this is unacceptable.”
you clamber up to your feet at this, holding your hand against your nose as it begins to feel strangely… tight? against your skin? what was happening?
“it was just me and ivy who fought each other, they didn’t do anything,” your words tumble quickly from your lips, guilt building in your chest as you finally glance back at aphmau.
she’s staring at the ground, bottom lip pinched between her teeth and eyes closed over with tears.
mrs.hwit sighs, going silent for a moment as her mouth twists in disappointment. 
“then you and miss veleno can spend your time in detention after school today apologizing to each other. if this happens one more time it’ll be an in school suspension for a whole week!”
your heart drops, and you fight off the tears pricking your eyes at the woman’s harsh tone.
“yes ma’am…”
“now i want ivy to come with me right now to explain herself, and i will be talking to you,” she looks at you pointedly. “before your detention starts.”
“now alex and aphmau get on to athletics right now. and you… go to the nurse for your nose if it’s bad enough. come along miss veleno.”
ivy clambers up in shock, holding her cheek and turning to send you one last glare before following after mrs. hyria who was now furiously marching her way down the hall. you groan again, wiping away your nose and turning to look at aphmau again.
at the other end of the hall you catch that delinquent boy from the park—gene—staring right at you with an impressed smirk on his face. he silently laughs to himself before disappearing around the corner.
“um… what?” she glances down at the empty hall before turning back to you. “are you okay?”
her voice is shaky and stuttered, and you sigh as you wipe the blood from your face, nodding with a groan.
“yeah… sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that.”
she shakes her head, waving her hands in disbelief.
“no i—i mean—“ she stutters, before sighing. “thank you for defending me. maybe she’ll leave us alone now?”
you turn to where ivy’s friend was before, only to see she must’ve quietly left the scene when you weren’t looking.
“i hope so. hey, go on to gym class. i don’t want you to get in trouble for sticking around. i’ll talk to you later.”
aphmau hesitates. “are you sure you’re okay?”
you nod, hunching over your bag and slinging it back over your shoulders.
“yep.”
she nods, glancing at you one last time before running off, the little charms on her backpack clinking along with her. you sigh, rolling your neck as you slowly make your way to the girls’ locker room.
your eyes tear up as you process what just happened, holding back a sob as you finally make it to the door, rushing inside.
you didn’t want to go to the nurse. you didn’t want to see anyone right now.
you let your backpack fall down onto the tile floor, stepping in front of one of the many sinks and leaning forward into the mirror to assess the damage done to your face. your eyebrows pinch together when you look back at your reflection, nothing really amiss except for the blood still smeared across your nose and your hair tangled and mussed.
grabbing a paper towel, you run it under the water and use it to wipe the blood from your face. your nose only had a slightly dull pain as you pressed your fingers against it, and what should’ve been deep welts on your cheek was only a slight red irritation. ivy had dug her hand into you, you should’ve looked a lot worse for wear than you did right now.
“…the hell?”
“oh, there you are! what are you doing?” katelyn questions, appearing in the mirror behind you and taking in your ruffled hair. “did you fall asleep in class or something?”
“uh, yeah... sorry,” you nervously laugh, glancing back at your unmarked face one more time before turning to her. “i’ll change super quick and be out there.”
she stares at you for a moment, frowning at your reddened eyelids and the glossy look in your eyes. she shrugs her shoulders after you don’t say anything further, and turns to walk back out of the locker room.
“alright, me and the ladies will be waiting for you on the court.”
“got it!” you call, running up to the net and jumping, slamming your hand down onto the ball.
katelyn whistles as it lands in bounds in the back end of the other side of the court, concluding the last exercise of practice. the light cheers of teony and nicole–who was a close friend of katelyn’s–follow. everyone crowds together at the center of the court, clapping and putting their hands together.
“lady phoenixes on three!” katelyn announces.
“one, two, three, lady phoenixes!” everyone chants, before tiredly retreating back to the locker room.
“you’re pretty good!” nicole comes up to you, her dark copper hair falling out of her high ponytail.
she stood shorter than the rest of the team and even just slightly under your height. she played the libero position, and was pretty impressive with her diving and saving skills from what you saw. her eyes were a brilliant shade of gray, outlined by thick black lashes. freckles dot along her face like constellations, gathering mostly along her nose and cheekbones. 
“thanks,” you smile, your mood feeling much lighter than it did at the beginning of the period.
teony and katelyn follow up behind her, the former coming to your side and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. despite her hard work all practice, she still managed to have her fruit-scented perfume stuck to her skin, the sweet smell invading your nose.
“seriously, it’s too bad the season has already started,” the chestnut skinned girl rested her cheek against your head, her chime-sounding voice.
katelyn nods, humming in thought as she rests her hand against her hip.
“yeah… do you want to come to practices during the athletics period? if you keep improving i bet you could get on varsity next year.”
“seriously?” you ask in surprise.
“yeah, you were seriously crazy with your spikes. you should think about it, we’d love you on the team,” nicole pipes in.
“for sure, sounds like fun!”
“cool,” katelyn nods, nudging your arm with a smile. “i am kinda glad we don’t have after school practice today, i’m tired.”
“seriously, i’m gonna go home and take a nap,” teony sighs lightly, releasing you from her embrace and stretching out her limbs.
the four of you gather your things in the locker room, but the girls turn to you in confusion when you turn to walk further into the school instead of going along with them to the exit.
“hey, where are you going?”
“oh, uh… i forgot something in one of the classrooms. i’ll catch you guys later.”
teony makes a small noise as if she has remembered something important, dashing back to you and pulling her phone out. she hands it to you, the sunflower charm attached to the pink phone dangling in the air.
“here, put your number in and i’ll share it with kate and nicki, okay?”
“oh, sure!” you smile, quickly tapping in your contact into the cheery girl’s list.
after you finish she waves goodbye, walking off with the other two out the doors.
that’s if i still have a phone after i get back home today.
you find the doors to detention, thankfully not finding anyone you know in the hallways on the way like aphmau had just days before. you step inside, immediately landing your eyes on the girl you had taken down in the hall just about an hour earlier.
her eyes dart to yours, mouth curling up as she glares at you. any sorrow you might’ve felt for her earlier leaves at her ugly expression. you stare her down, tongue rolling against the inside of your teeth as you sit as far from her as possible. you’re not sure what face you’re making back, but she’s the first to break eye contact, face faltering into a peculiar look.
before you can take a seat, the clicking of mrs.hyria’s shoes makes her presence known in the room. you turn around, getting a ‘come hither’ finger wave from the woman instead of words.
great. 
you two quietly make it into the hall, even going as far as turning the next corner so you wouldn’t be eavesdropped on.
“now before you go explaining yourself,” she starts, taking a heavy breath. the maternal aura she gives off sends a lump straight into your throat, especially in this situation. “you know my daughter is lucinda.”
you look up at her with confused eyes, nodding slowly at her words.
“now, i’m not one to necessarily take sides in these situations. however, from what i’ve seen, and from what i’ve heard from lucinda and her friends, i can tell you’re a good girl,” her voice lowers to a whisper. “and i wasn’t born yesterday. i know when girls are being sneaky.”
she crosses her arms, lifting her reading glasses off her head and readjusting them in her hair.
“next time something like this happens… i can promise you telling an adult will end up much better for you than handling it yourself. do you understand what i’m saying?”
“yes ma’am…”
she opens her mouth to continue, but leans forward with a confused hum.
“did you go to the nurse earlier?”
“i—no ma’am.”
one of her hands gingerly touches your cheek, as well as brushing along your nose and under your eyes.
“strange… no swelling? not even a scratch mark? it looked like she broke your nose earlier.”
you blink. so it wasn’t just your imagination.
“i guess it looked worse than it was.”
“now, what’s happening?”
you gulp, looking nervously around at the hall for any eavesdroppers.
“um… just petty drama that aphmau and i were dragged into. it’s really ridiculous.”
“boys?”
you sigh.
“yeah. jealousy, and not on our part.”
she hums, rolling her eyes.
“but, mrs.hwit?”
“yes…?”
“i—“ you hesitate, stuttering in your words. “aphmau and i don’t want to be known for… you know, all of this in our first week. can you not get ivy in any more trouble for this?”
“what?”
“i mean… if she does anything else i will definitely say something. but if she knows i said something now i’m afraid words will get passed around school no matter how it plays out,” you clear your throat. “and i have a feeling she won’t pull something like that again.”
her lips flatten against each other, and she reaches up a finger to rub one of her arched, thin eyebrows with a deep exhale from her nose.
“alright, i understand where you’re coming from. i’ll sweep it under the rug this time, but if you get into another fight you will also be in very deep trouble.”
“yes ma’am, thank you.”
“alright, now go do your homework or something,” she dismisses you, exasperatedly waving her hands for you to move along. “i’ll see you tomorrow in class, dear.”
“why on earth did i get a call from the school saying you were in a fight?” mom stands waiting for you in the doorway, eyebrows raised in disbelief.
you release a tense sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor of the entryway.
“because i got in a fight.”
“did you win?” your dad calls from the living room.
“yep.”
“good.”
your mom throws up her hands in utter disbelief, turning her head to glare at him through the doorway as he sits in the living room.
“what? you know she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t have a good reason.”
she crosses her arms, turning to look back at you. a second passes before she makes a confused face, stepping closer to you and inspecting you with her hands on your shoulders.
“well the school made it sound bad, but you don’t look like she got a single hit on you.”
“yeah well, she did. it was the strangest thing, actually. my nose bled everywhere and she scratched me really badly on my cheek, but it almost immediately healed up… like nothing happened at all. isn’t that weird? even the teacher thought my nose was broken, but i’m fine.”
she freezes, back straightening as she looks down at you with a frighteningly strange look on her face. was it almost… horror? you realize that whatever your dad was tinkering with in the living room had also gone eerily quiet, as you look up at your mom with equally widened eyes.
“…what? why are you looking at me like that?”
she seemingly snaps out of it shaking her head.
“oh no, that is weird. it must’ve looked worse than it actually was. you’ve always had a… really great immune system.”
“yeah, i guess.” you mutter.
she suddenly clears her throat, retreating further back into the house.
“so what was the fight about?”
you sigh, repressing a groan as you prepare yourself to explain everything all over again. when you finish, your mom is staring at you dumbfoundedly.
“why didn’t you tell me this?”
“cause it’s so dumb that i didn’t think it would even get to this point. and by the second week, no less.”
she raises her eyebrows, nodding.
“yeah. this story makes this ivy girl sound really silly.”
“that’s what i’m saying,” you toss your arms up, before beginning to retreat upstairs for a much-needed shower.
“well next time—“
“tell an adult. i will.”
“or just beat them up worse than last time.” your dad hollers after you.
“do not do that!”
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©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own
tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky (sry i forgot to tag you last time ><)
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ccoffii · 3 months
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Eleceed Redeisgns
Don’t get the wrong idea I’m not trying to fix anything (despite my issues with 75% of the bestie crew having the same hairstyle) ZHENA-nim art did really well on this series and I can definitely see her improvements!!
I find redesigning characters I like as a good exercise for me since I’m trying to practice my character design skills! I’ve also added headcannons so strap in.
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First victim, istg he doesn’t even look like the same person lol.
- gave him the :3 mouth bc he has the little shit potential especially after wrapping everyone around his finger
- Longer hair comes from the hc that he is the kind of person who would hide behind it and to match his dads
- changed his hair to brown bc the blond colour blended with his skin too much (helps with contrast)
- The bag is to help him carry cats and more cat food
- Oversized clothes to wallow in, also to hide himself or something
- While Jiwoo and Kayden are implied to wear the same size clothing I still think Jiwoo’s clothes would be tight on Kayden
- It helps Kayden learn about Jiwoo as a person since he would question why his clothes were so ill fitting on him
- Colour palette was hard af, but I mostly went with warmer colours and added blue as an accent so he could match Kayden
- As u can tell the only thing that fits him perfectly is the school uniform, even then he likes to size up the blazer
- His bag would start with no buttons and over time more would be added based on where he’s been and the friends he makes
- Glasses are up for debate but they look nice on him
- gave him more down turned eyes so he could resemble Kang Daniel a little more
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barely changed, basically the outfit was the only thing to go
- He looks like the kind of kid that would wear headphones all day
- His glasses fucked off to somewhere and I brought brought them back THEY R HERE TO STAY
- The dress shirt in his casual outfit is the same one from his uniform
- Bc of his upbringing with the doctor guy I would think he doesn’t have that many clothes to begin with and sees little point in getting more
- Ofc that will change later with his friends
- His name tag says his last name is Park but he doesn’t rlly have one and the wiki says so too, so it’s just something he had to give the school or somethin
- More lanky build? Basically a bean pole.
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Again who the fuck is this
- gave him his melanin back, like all of it
- He seems more the varsity jacket type guy than Wooin
- Hair is based off Yeonjun’s lover loser era
- Tried to give him that international student type of beat vibe bc his sister is the big boss of the SK awakener scene
- i feel like with this hairstyle it’s easier to imagine him with black hair but I digress
- His jacket starts off with no patches and they’re slowly added on when he spends time with the bestie crew
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MY GIRLIE!!
- Changed her uniform to be more fancy based off of the reaction of other students in Jiwoo’s school, the pendant on her bow is her own addition.
- No respectable Gen Z wears ripped skinny jeans… Controversial
- a converse girlie for sure
- Her hair is kinda based off the Mafuyu White Day card, either way she has to give gender
- Are they called arm warmers? They give her an interesting silhouette and very distinguishable from the guys
- Alternatively she wears a turtle neck and a sweater/large T-Shirt when it’s too cold + arm warmers just cause
Some other stuff:
- yes, all the redesigns will eventually include some element of blue like Jiwoo to help connect them and signify how close they are
- a lot of them were made with a go out shopping episode in mind to help us learn more about them
- maybe I’ll write a fic but finals r chasing my ass rn so eventually
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aegor-bamfsteel · 2 months
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Hello Bamfsteel. I have been following your blog for over a year now but I realize I haven't commented or reblogged much (I kinda avoid online interaction because I'm terrified of accidentally offending someone). But I cannot express how much I love your blog, and admire you for carrying on despite the hate you get from antis. I was already ambivalent about Daemon, but you got me rooting for him... and for Daena, Rohanne, and Aegor, the last of whom in particular is basically unanimously hated by the fandom (hell, one random tvtropes page even called him worse than Aerys the Mad King)!! So I'm grateful for your blog and hope you keep posting.
Anyway, as a fan of both the Blackfyres and Arthuriana, I'm currently planning to write an Arthurian retelling of Daemon I's life and was wondering about how he chose his sigil/heraldry. Twoiaf says that he simply reversed the Targaryen colors because that's what all bastards do. But I don't know if there are any other examples of this happening in canon.
On the contrary, I recall Jon saying to Arya in AGoT: "Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister."
So now I wonder if the 'black dragon on a red field' was actually Daena's personal coat of arms, and Daemon simply chose it after Aegon's acknowledgement as a symbol of defiance and loyalty to his beloved mother. I love the notion that the chivalrous-to-the-last-breath Daemon Blackfyre didn't care all that much for his terrible and blatantly unchivalrous 'father' and instead everything he did, from winning the squires tourney to rebelling against Daeron, was his way of making his mother proud and atoning for all the humiliation she had to suffer due to his birth.
Sorry for the long ask. I am just excited to meet a fellow Blackfyre fan :)
Hello, thesupercat. Thank you for the long ask, and putting up with my slow responses over the past year. I have a little more free time/motivation to write recently, so I’m trying to answer more questions. I’m glad that my posts could bring your fandom experience some happiness. If you ever write the Arthuriana about Daemon I, don’t be afraid to send me a link.
TWOIAF and Dunk actually have different origins of the Black Dragon sigil; Dunk claims “the arms of House Targaryen had borne a three-headed dragon, red on black. Daemon the Pretender had reversed those colors on his own banners, as many bastards did.” (The Sworn Sword) but TWOIAF actually says “Reversing the colors of the traditional Targaryen arms to show a black dragon on a red field, the rebels declared for Princess Daena's bastard son Daemon Blackfyre, First of His Name, proclaiming him the eldest true son of King Aegon IV, and his half brother Darren the bastard.” (TWOIAF Darren II) What a lot of antis miss in their analysis of Daemon and Aegor is conflating their actions with that of what the Reds said their supporters did (if Daemon didn’t create the sigil, it could be evidence that the rebellion wasn’t premeditated, which I believe) I actually had an interesting debate about which version of the origin of the sigil was more logical with someone (I’d taken Dunk’s word to be true), but it’s actually more interesting if the rebels came up with it, because you’re right (no matter what the wiki has to say about it) the reversed sigil color scheme alone doesn’t actually indicate illegitimate origin: it requires that and a diagonal (usually red) slash, called in heraldry a “bend sinister” (which was used in real life illegitimate sigils, like the cadet branches of the House of Bourbon, Conti and Condé). There are multiple examples of illegitimate sons/their descendants using the reversed colors of their father’s house and the bend sinister: Walder Rivers and Walder of Woodmere (a silver castle on a blue field and a red bend sinister, for Frey), and the cadet branch houses Oldflowers (ten white hands on a green field and a red bend sinister, for Gardner), Vikary (quartered with a white lion on red crossed by a gold bend sinister, for Reyne), and Bolling (quartered with a gold stag on a black field and an orange bend sinister, for Durrandon). The other illegitimate children whose sigils are described are variations on a family sigil without the inverse colors (Aegor Rivers, Brynden Rivers) or something completely different (Benedict Justman, Blackshield). Far from being a simple sigil that marks being illegitimate Targaryen, the black-dragon-on-red-field is a symbol of anti-Targaryen defiance that rejects the “bend sinister” marker for a different lineage of dragon (a cat of a different coat, I guess), which makes a lot of sense if you consider the war was due to disgust at the current Targ regime. Daemon technically had the right to use the Targaryen sigil proper since he was legitimized (look at the Velaryon boys), but I’m certain Da3ron would’ve forbid him because that would be “putting him on princely level” never mind that he is a prince as Daena’s son and Yandel knows this; he might’ve actually used a different style of arms before the First Blackfyre that we don’t know of (same with Aegor, who got the black wings on his Pegasus sigil due to House Blackfyre; I headcanon him using a plain blue field during his youth, for the Riverlands), or even the sigil we know of with the bend sinister (which the rebels removed acclaiming Daemon their legitimate king waging war against an illegitimate usurper; also as a Targaryen bastard, Da3ron could’ve had the same sigil as Daemon which the rebels wouldn’t have wanted). But, you seem to be correct that whoever created the sigil put more thought into it than “reversed color scheme is what all illegitimate children do”.
There are two women described as having personal arms: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Barbrey Dustin, ruling ladies with important family connections. The Targaryen sigil is also often personalized to distinguish between brothers and cousins (Aerion, Prince Daeron, Valarr, Maekar all have variations on dragon position, color, borders, number), though usually not for the king or his heir except in civil war conflicts (both Rhaenyra and her brother Aegon II have variations on the Targaryen sigil. Which I guess makes sense why Daemon’s supporters wanted a separate Blackfyre sigil). Daena was also acclaimed queen by some, and according to a GRRM answer wanted to be queen, so it’s possible she had a variation on the Targaryen sigil as personal arms. It’s interesting that the most popular variation on using house sigils is when the person wants to honor their mother’s family: Harras Harlaw (Serrett peacock), Joffrey/Tommen/Myrcella (Lannister lion, which Jon thinks is overly proud), Cleos Frey (Lannister lion), Benfrey Frey (Rosby chevronnels), both Big and Little Walder (who quarter the Frey castles with sigils of their mother’s and grandmother’s families), and Harry Hardyng (quartering the diamonds of Hardyng with 2 Falcons for his Arryn grandmother and 1 broken wheel for his Waynwood mother) all incorporate their mother’s/grandmother’s family sigils to show their high lineage. Even Rhaenyra Targaryen quartered her two red dragons with the Arryn falcon for her mother and the silver seahorse for her first husband. It’s entirely possible Daena, famous for wearing black during her youth and twice uncrowned, incorporated a black dragon into her personal arms (though I like to think she also incorporated the Velaryon seahorse for her mother’s family, to better differentiate herself from the “usurper branch” of Viserys II), and Daemon accepted the nickname “the Black Dragon” partly to honor her (the connection between them wearing black was one of my earliest hc posts). That Daemon’s descent from Daena is emphasized in the same sentence as his supporters creating the black-dragon-on-red-field banner could be seen as connecting the reversal of “traditional Targ arms” to her, as being “Targaryen on both sides” was used at least in Rhaenyra’s case as a mark of better legitimacy. Tl;dr if you want to say that Daemon’s battle sigil is a black dragon to honor Daena, there’s enough symbolic connections considering other examples of personal/illegitimate arms to make that argument, especially for a fanfic.
I hope you have a good rest of your day. My askbox is always open if you have more questions, though response time may be slow.
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coinandcandle · 2 years
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The Morrigan Deity Guide
This is a re-do in the "deity deep dive" format of my original Morrigan post!
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Who is The Morrigan?
The Morrigan is the ancient Irish Triple, or tripartite, of war and death, but she is also goddess of sovereignty, the land, and prophecy.
The name Morrigan, or Morrigu, is the anglicized version of the Gaelic name Mór-Ríoghain, which means "Great Queen" in modern Irish.
The old name has been linked to the proto-indo-european word Mór (terror) and Ríoghain could relate to the Latin word Regina (queen). (Wiktionary)
It’s debated whether she is one deity with three aspects or if these three aspects are sisters that create a triple goddess.
If they are sisters, their names are likely Macha, Nemain, and The Morrigan, their collective title being The Morrigu or The Morrigna. (The spelling of these will differ throughout your research if you choose to do your own after this post)
Their names could also be Macha, Nemain, and Badb, though the name “Badb” may have been a title for spirits/gods who wrought havoc on the battlefields and incited terror in the opposing side. (See “The Ancient Irish Goddess of War” in references for more info).
Other names involved with these sisters are Anand and Fea.
It’s not unlikely that The Morrigan’s identity would change between the many different groups in Ireland throughout time.
Parents and Siblings
Her mother is Ernmas, father is unknown.
Siblings have included Ériu, Banba, and Fódla, who make up the triple goddess of spirit and sovereignty of Ireland.
As well as Gnim, Coscar, Fiacha, and Ollom, as her brothers.
Lovers or Partners
The Dagda, with whom her relationship is of great importance for the Irish holiday Samhain.
In some iterations of her lore the Morrigan falls for Irish Hero Cú Chulainn but her feelings are not returned.
Children
Mechi, who has three hearts that each contain a serpent.
Epithets
The Goddess of Death
Morrígu
The Morrighan
The Great Queen
Phantom Queen
Badb-Catha
Nightmare Queen
The Washer at the Ford
Notes
Due to the many myths and legends surrounding The Morrigan and she is also associated with the Fae and the Banshee—a creature that generally takes on the form of an old woman who wails in mourning to announce the coming death of someone in the family.
The Morrigan is most notoriously a shape shifter and deity of magic.
In modern day paganism and witchcraft, some choose to worship The Morrigan as one deity with the sisters as aspects, others choose to worship her as a triple goddess consisting of three sisters. Neither of these can be said to be entirely right or wrong and vary from person to person, even from an academic point of view.
Though there are similar beings throughout Celtic mythology, The Morrigan is unique to Irish mythology.
Stories that prominently feature the Morrígan include Táin Bó Cúailgne (The Cattle Raid of Cooley), Cath Maige Tuired (The First and Second Battles of Moytura), and Lebor Gabála Érenn (The Book of the Taking of Ireland). (Mythopedia)
Fulacht na Mór Ríoghna (Cooking Pit of the Morrígan) in County Tipperary, and two hills in County Meath known as Da Cích na Morrígna (Two Breasts of the Morrígan) are both locations in Ireland linked to The Morrigan.
Modern Deity Work
Correspondences
Disclaimer - Many of these are not traditional or historic correspondences nor do they need to be. However, any correspondence that can be considered traditional will be marked with a (T).
Rocks/Stone/Crystals
Obsidian
Onyx
Silver
Carnelian
Deep green, black and red stones/crystals
Herbs/Plants
Dragon’s Blood
Apples
Nightshade
Roses
Cedar
Cloves
Mugwort
Belladonna
Juniper
Animals
Crow (T)
Eel (T)
Cow (T)
Horse (T)
Wolf (T)
Raven
Symbols
Triple spiral
Crow
Offerings
Blood (be careful with this please!!)
Wine or Mead
The stones and herbs listed above
Imagery of the animals or symbols listed above
Food that you’ve made or a portion of your meal
Jewelry
Art made of her or inspired by her
Coins
Honey
Dark chocolate
Candles and/or wax melts; incense
Meat
Milk
Note: If you’d like your offering to be a bit more traditional, try burying it or sending it down a stream, but only if it is safe for the environment if you do so!
Acts of Devotion
Exercise/Work out (especially if it's challenging!)
Activism
Read/write poetry for her
Research her
Celebrate Samhain
Take up a competitive sport or activity
Standing up for yourself
Keep in mind that these are only some ideas for offerings and correspondences! Items and activities that connect you to her in a more personal way are just as good, and often better, than those you find on the internet. As with any relationship, feel it out, ask questions, and be attentive and receptive!
References and Further Reading
The Morrigan - World History Encyclopedia
The Ancient Irish Goddess of War by WM Hennessey (via Sacred-Texts)
The Morrigan - Druidry.org
The Book of the Great Queen by Morpheus Ravenna
The Morrigan - Mythopedia (Mythopedia also has a bunch of references and further reading of their own that I suggest you look at if you’d like to do your own research!)
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sharpjay217 · 4 months
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So Minecraft has new wolves!!
I am very happy about this, but it does make me curious what species each variation is based off of! You too? Awesome!
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Rusty Wolf = Dhole
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Seeing a little red jungle wolf took me right back to reading The Jungle Book as a kid, so I pretty much instantly decided they were dholes! A.k.a. Asian wild dogs or red dogs. They're an endangered canid native to Central, South, East and Southeast Asia, and they live in large clans ranging from 12-40 members.
Pale (Original) Wolf & Black Wolf = Grey Wolves
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Our familiar friends have probably always been North American grey wolves, just pales ones! Despite their name, this iconic member of the canid family has an incredible amount of variation, and different subspecies of them are scattered all over North America.
Striped Wolf = Aardwolf
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Okay, this is interesting, because they are definitely aardwolves! However, despite their names, aardwolves are actually the tiniest member of the hyaenidae family! Native to East and Southern Africa, they are exclusively insectivores and are known for following aardvarks to use their vacated burrows and foraging grounds. I think it's fascinating that a hyena was chosen for the wolf skins!
Snowy Wolf = Arctic Wolf
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One of the many subspecies of gray wolves, arctic wolves are native to the Canadian Arctic and Alaska. Thanks to their territory being generally undesirable to humans, they are the only subspecies that can found across the entirety of their original range. Arctic wolves seem the most logical choice for snowy wolves, through there are several other pale-coated northern subspecies they could technically be.
Ashen Wolf = Northwestern Wolf
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Speaking of northern subspecies, let's have some fun with the ashen variant. I'm pinning them as the Northwestern wolf, a.k.a. the Mackenzie Valley wolf! Native to, well, the northwestern part of Canada and Alaska, they are arguably the largest subspecies of wolf we know of. They match up pretty well with their Minecraft counterparts both in terms of habitat and possible coloration!
Woods Wolf = Eastern Wolf
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Ooo, okay, I went down a rabbit hole with this one! Eastern wolves, a.k.a Great Lakes wolves or Algonquin wolves, are native to the Great Lakes region of North America. They exist in an identification limbo, with no current ruling on whether they are a subspecies of grey wolf, red wolf, or their own unique branch that drifts closer to coyotes on the canid family tree. There is even some debate on whether the Great Lakes and Algonquin variants should be counted as the same subspecies, which I think is fascinating!
Spotted Wolf = African Wild Dog
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The more people who know these good bois exists, the happier I am. African wild dogs, a.k.a. painted dogs or Cape hunting dogs, are the largest wild canine in Africa. They live in packs of 5-30 members and are known their cooperative hunting tactics, using stamina to wear down prey. They're highly social animals, and you'll never find a lone dog.
Chestnut Wolf = Bat Eared Fox
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So, initially, I wrote off these guys cause I wasn't counting foxes, but I gave in. The chestnut wolves don't look like much of any existing canines, and nothing that lives in taiga forest. So, bat eared foxes are my best guess. They're small canids native to southern Africa, and are part of the subfamily Otocyoninae, which is a sister family to the families containing true foxes and racoon dogs.
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Speaking of raccoon dogs, they're my second best guess for the origin of the chestnut wolf. Their habitat makes slightly more sense, being from the forests of Japan and east Asia!
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