#as far as were concerned you are our child

[leclarifies]

off the grid - III

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 5.3k

a/n: hi, i have been VERY busy HAHAHA. not proofread or checked for grammar mistakes bc i wanted to push this part out asap, please excuse any spelling mistakes. thank u so much for reading

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"(monaco) oklahoma, you made a man out of me." - lany, 'cowboy in l.a'

all you remembered was the screaming.

the glass shattering.

your mother reaching out for you as you curled up into a ball on the floor.

you had your hands covering your eyes, you were just 16 after all.

"you're insane! we promised not to fight in front of our child, now you're throwing things at me?" your mother had yelled, you squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting anything to do with it.

"if you were the one fucking men behind my bed, then i wouldn't be throwing shit at you!" your father retaliated, throwing another glass that narrowly hit your face.

why was this happening to you?

"if wouldn't have cheated if you just paid attention to this family falling apart for once!" your mother had left your side to go and physically fight with your father.

you were in the corner of the room, back facing them as you endured all the fighting.

"stop it! i hate you guys fighting, STOP IT!"

when was this going to end?

a gasp escaped your lips as you sat up from the nightmare. it's been happening a lot recently.

your throat was dry, sweat dripped down your forehead as you assessed where you were and what was happening.

there was a indescribable feeling that specific nightmare gave you, and you couldn't place your finger on it.

maybe it was when all of your childhood trauma started, the first ever fight you had witnessed from your parents, or maybe that was when you realized that you chasing your dreams was a little heavy on the family expenses.

you didn't know.

all you knew right now was that you hated the way it made you feel, how it made your skin crawl, how it raised goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"are you alright?" max's soft and sleepy voice emerges from his bedroom, and that's when you finally recognized where you were. he had heard shouts of distress, knowing that it was you in another nightmare.

you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, his soft blue sleepy eyes that were flashed with concern and worry. words were stuck in your throat as you tried to get them out, but all that came out were pathetic sobs.

you curl up in a similar position that you once knew all too well, and sobbed while hugging your legs. max was quick to jump to your side, stroking your head as he usually does and asks you what was wrong but the words wouldn't come out. a mixed feeling of regret and self-pity bubbled up in your chest as max captures you in a hug.

all you could do was sob in his shoulder.

"it's okay, i'm here. nothing can hurt you anymore. i'm here," max spoke softly as you tried to come down from the nightmare.

"i-... max—"

"shh, it's okay. i'm here, you're okay."

you didn't want to be a burden to anyone anymore, and tonight, you were feeling everything like being a burden to everyone.

"her expenses are getting out of hand, we cannot keep fueling her karting career if this goes on," your mother had been whispering under her breath but you could hear her, hiding behind a wall. you freshly turned 17.

"she is chasing her dreams, i am not letting you rip that away from her," your father sternly spoke to your mother.

"she is nothing more than a burden to our expenses, can't you see? she will never get far in karting, women never do. stop fueling her delusions like this, it's not good for anyone or anything," your mom interjected again as she throws the bills into the kitchen counter.

you never knew that your mother had felt that way about your karting career. it hurt.

more than the comments of the boys on the grid.

because at the end of the day, even your own mom didn't believe in you.

why should you believe in yourself?

"you are a cruel woman. how do you think she'll feel when she hears that from her own mother?" your father had reprimanded your mother, his eyes sharp and his tongue even sharper, "why can't you believe in your daughter for once? does it cost you money to be supportive?"

"in this case, yes! she is draining the expenses and you know it," your mother growls, just loud enough for you to hear.

god how you wished she understood how you felt.

you had fallen asleep in max's arms once again, maybe the third time this week. max never had the heart to wake you up and leave your side after a particularly bad dream, so he would always move you to lay on top of his chest and sleep with you on the sofa.

you stirred awake for a bit when you felt him move you.

"max..?" you mumbled, your eyes barely open but planted a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead. it fluttered something in your sleepy stomach that you couldn't quite place.

"sleep."

"you can always go back in your room," you slurred your words from the tiredness from the emotional draining you had to do earlier but he shook his head gently, saying no to your suggestion.

"sleep."

"but—"

"sleep, schatje."

you woke up the next day to max's hushed voice talking, he sounded quite irritated. it sounded like he was fighting. none of the words made sense to you until you finally started waking up.

"—like i said kelly. i want nothing to do with you anymore— you cannot use p as leverage. i'm happy now..." max's hushed voice trailed off, you fluttered your eyes open to see that he was sitting up and you were laying on his lap.

you sleepily look up at him before he smiles at you, focusing back on his phone call, "i have someone else now kelly, if you can't accept that then it's your issue to deal with," he mumbled before shutting off the phone, finally giving you all of his undivided attention.

"kelly giving you trouble again?" you ask, sleep laced in your voice, stretching a tiny bit, he pat your head twice and nodded.

kelly had been borderline harassing him, almost a year later and begging to take her back. maybe she finally realized how hard her life was once she couldn't mooch off his money anymore.

"just the usual, i can't be arsed to deal with her."

you sit up and look at max apologetically, "did i give you a lot of trouble last night? i'm sorry for bothering you again, i told you i would be able to handle it by myself."

max rolled his eyes sarcastically, really not minding and liking the way he had to take care of you and how you naturally drifted towards him for comfort.

"i told you, i want to take care of you. you're not a burden to me, you are perfectly fine just the way you are," max had said, while he was talking he had stood up right in front of you and held both of your hands.

"i just don't want to feel like i'm burdening anyone anymore, i just—... i hate it," you look up at him, "you understand how i feel right? i just don't want you to feel—"

"you're doing it again."

a sigh left your lips and you look away from max's blue eyes, "look at me," he tells you softly, finger hooked underneath your chin to make you look at him.

"you're doing okay, you're fine. i am here for you. you're gonna do great this season," max had told you words of encouragement, "i am so proud of you. just do your best. i will always be here to support you."

"thank you max."

"you're welcome schatje."

"this question is for y/n, how do you feel coming into this season of formula one? your third year and it has been a fabulous ride with you in the red," the interviewer had asked, you were elected to be on the panel for media interviews this time around.

you put the mic up your mouth and spoke, "i feel great, helping ferrari get their constructors' cup after so long did help with that feeling. charles also had a hand in this, so i won't take all the credit. i do wish to win the driver's championship this year— that's if charles lets me," you finish it off with a chuckle as you glance at charles who was on the left of you.

charles gives you a teasing look which you roll your eyes playfully to.

"next question is to max," the interviewer smoothly moves over to max who was to your right, you glance at him before listening to what the question was, "how is your car after testing season? do you think you guys might be able to fight for the constructors' cup this year? why or why not?"

"i think the car is miles better than last year, i think we have a good shot in winning the constructors' cup this year— no offense to the two ferrari drivers to the left of me," max gives you a glance as you both lock eyes, you swiftly look ahead and to the panel of interviewers.

the interview was shortly wrapped up as you guys were dismissed to head home for the night. third day of testing had finally finished and you just had enough of the media duties for today. having to film content for ferrari socials as well.

it was almost routine for the two of you guys to walk to your hotel and just yap to eachother for about thirty minutes of the walk, as you were wrapping things up and gathering your things in the motorhome, charles walks in and greets you.

"you going home with verstappen tonight?" charles winks at you as he approaches you and stands next to you, you scoff and nod, "you've been spending a lot of time with him lately and a small birdie tells me that you also live in the same apartment as him."

"we've been living in the same building for almost a year now charles, where have you been?" you joke with him as you zip up your dufflebag and carry it on your shoulder.

charles just laughs as your response and shrugs, "you guys getting closer? in that sense, if you know what i mean," he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh and shake your head, knowing everything between the two of you guys was entirely— maybe not entirely but they were mostly platonic.

"you are worse than the media pen charles, really," you laugh as you wave him off, wanting to retire for the night. now you knew why charles asked if you were going home with max or not, he was waiting for you outside of the motorhome.

you smiled at him and he smiled at you, motioning to the exit as you followed close behind him.

throughout the years of spending time in his apartment, you had slowly but surely opened up about things that have happened in the past that still haunted you to this day. max did the same. telling you similar stories from his childhood that he fortunately had gotten over as the years went by.

but they were still scabbed scars that you kept picking on, making them bleed red every time you remembered.

it had barely been a decade since you escaped your childhood home, filled with fighting and violence from your mother.

max was there through the countless nights of nightmares, always holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you always hated those nights.

not only did you feel like a burden to max, but you felt as if you were burdening the entire world.

no one should see you in that state.

smack!

the sound of the slap rang through the air as you protested your mother not letting you leave the house.

"you are not going to your silly races anymore, you are a girl, y/n. act like one," your mother had sternly reprimanded you, but you only glared at her in response, not being able to say anything. knowing that if you did, sobs will come out and your mother would make fun of you.

"just because me and your father divorced, doesn't mean i'm going to support this stupid delusion of yours going into formula one, never," your mother had continued as she dragged you by the shirt into your room, "now sit there and think about how pretty you're going to dress up when you go to tonight's party."

the door slammed shut in your face.

you called your father of course and getting you out of your mother's house was a hassle, your mother was refusing entry to your father because it was not his day of visitation and your father was trying to force himself in because it was race day and you were due there.

it was your debut in formula 2, and your mother had managed to make it hell for you. first race and you had tears in your eyes because what you had to go through in your mother's home.

your debut in formula 2 wasn't smooth, nor was it easy. but you had your father there at least, cheering from the sidelines. it was tough enough that the f1 academy didn't exist at this time, only being able to progress through to f1 to actually compete with the nepo babies that surrounded the paddock.

"you okay?" max had stopped in front of you, you blinked plainly before focusing on his blue eyes, you bit your lip, feeling guilty. he was probably talking about something and you were not listening.

"uh, yeah. sorry, i was just in my own head there," you smile slightly at you, "were you saying something?" your brain had been running completely on autopilot, just walking wherever max was walking.

max looked at you that said it all.

"stop thinking about her, she's not worth your time. are you really gonna let her ruin your days in f1?" max crossed his arms in front of his chest, "you told me that's what most of your dreams were about, she terrorizes your dream but you cannot let her ruin this for you."

"it's easier said than done, max," you look up at him sadly before looking away from his gaze, you hated the way he looked at you when he knows what you're going through. as if he could see through the tough exterior you built for yourself.

max gently took your hand and caressed it.

this was what you meant when it was mostly platonic.

"look at me— look at me when i'm talking to you, y/n l/n."

you gently tore your gaze away from the city skylines and look up to lock eyes with his steely blue eyes, they were like the sky. you just couldn't look away sometimes.

"i believe in you, okay? you have been a wonderful driver the two years you've been in formula one, do you understand?"

you nod at his encouraging words, not knowing what else to say. the words lost as they reached your mouth.

"you have achieved so many things in your rookie year that so many people in the sport can only dream of doing, have a little faith in yourself and in your skills," max gently squeezed the hand he was holding, "hell, you even beat me to the constructors' cup last year and the year before that—"

"charles helped—"

"do you always have to discredit yourself when it comes to your team's achievements?"

you could only sigh when he said that, you genuinely believed that you didn't deserve to be here. that someone much more talented did, not realizing that you indeed do have the skills, that you just had to give yourself more grace.

"yeah, that's what i thought. let's go back to the hotel and relax, okay? you deserve it. sometimes being in the paddock for too long can mess you up," max says before tugging you along back to the hotel.

"radio check," anthony sounded out from the garage, you were ready for this race. you were always ready for a good race.

"loud and clear," you say as you sat in your car, starting front row next to max. taking pole was easy in monaco this time round.

"okay y/n, stick to plan a. don't take unnecessary risks. just play it safe, defend, and bring it home," anthony had reminded you, you hum a response before focusing completely on the race.

fred had informed that they were going to prioritize you this race, charles has been having engine problems since free practice and he told you that it was okay for you to take the lead on this one, not having much hope on his car seeing the mountain of problems it had caused him this weekend, but he was still willing to try. placing himself p4 on the grid.

"welcome to the monaco grand prix this weekend, as we see l/n on pole, verstappen p2, lando norris p3 and charles leclerc p4. merely seconds from the start of the race, it's lights out and away we go!"

you booked it from lights out, pedal to the metal when you saw the red lights go off.

max was always resilient when it came to racing, even though he had a soft spot for you (which he will never admit outloud), he still respected you enough to still think of you as a competent driver and would never give you an easy win.

max was still as aggressive as ever, always taking the chance to fight for that spot for p1. but this was your home race and you were going to die before you let max get first place easily.

lap after lap, max tried to contest the your lead, but you were smart, conserving your tyres when you didn't need them as much and pushing them to their limits when you did need them.

"we're gonna have you box together with charles," anthony had informed you through the radio, but you interjected.

"can we box when the red bull boxes? i don't want to take the chance of us losing this lead when we have it in the bag," you told anthony but he wasn't having any of it.

"just trust us, y/n. we have this. box with charles next lap, then fight for p1 again. they're going to have to eventually box too," anthony rejected your idea so you followed the team's lead and did exactly that.

charles had climbed and overtaken norris and helped you defend from max, being aggressive with max meant that he had less aggressiveness to put on you, which made it perfect for you.

"and ferrari has decided to double box against l/n's decision to keep pushing, letting max through to p1, whilst the ferrari duo now sits in p4 and p5."

lando was ahead of you, alongside george who had managed to take p3 while you boxed, but you had the advantage of heating up hard tyres and overtook him easily.

overtime, you slowly got to p3 with a double overtake with charles. him taking p4 respectively.

you didn't exactly know what happened between lando and max because you were behind lando, but at the hairpin, but they both lost control and crashed into the barrier, your eyes widened as you zoomed past the both of them, ferrari taking p1 & p2 simultaneously.

"is max okay?"

"focus on the race, y/n. he will be fine."

"no, tell me what's going on with the red bull and mclaren, did lando rear-end max?" you asked hurriedly, still trying your best to bring this race home.

"i will update you as soon as i get info," that was anthony's way of telling you to shut the fuck up and focus on the race.

your mind was racing a million miles an hour, you were worried. for once, it wasn't the two of you involved in a crash.

you brought the race home at the end, scoring a ferrari 1-2, but your mind was not there on the podium where it should be.

"dad!" you yell as you see your father in the ferrari garage after all of the celebratory processes had been gone through, tears instantly brought to your eyes, you run and almost knock him over from the force of you flying and hugging him.

"i'm so proud of you," your father held you tight and you cried into his arms, "i always believed you could, now i'm looking at the future world champion."

and that's where you finally realize, maybe you did deserve the iconic red car after all.

"i'm going to break that mclaren wing, i swear," you mutter quietly as you sit next to max who was resting on the hospital bed of the medical center, you had gone straight to visit max as you finished everything up around the paddock.

"you have anger issues—"

"i do not!" you gasped and looked at max who had a loopy smile on his face, you act as if that was a scandalous thought and scoffed. he was under some painkillers to manage the pain of whatever injuries he sustained from the crash

"you do, you always have. even when you were a rookie. i remember when you crashed into me on that quali, it was funny watching the race over and hearing you say motherfucker over the radio. you got fined for that right?" max asked, glancing at you who was on his left.

with a sigh and a huff, you reply a small 'yes' before crossing your arms in front of your chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

again, max would never admit it outloud but he considered you cute.

the door of the room opened to reveal a lando with a few of mclaren's representatives, he had a sorry look on his face but you frowned when you saw him.

you then caught yourself and was confused, what was this feeling?

protectiveness? care?

what the hell was this?

you cringe at yourself before lando gave you a raised eyebrow.

"is there a problem?" lando asked before you catch yourself another time, eyes wide and shook your head.

"sorry, made a face out loud on accident."

lando looked away from you for a split second before turning to look at max, "hey mate, i'm really sorry about crashing into you back there. it was a complete mistake on my part."

they sorted out whatever "beef" they had and that night max was cleared to go home. you had volunteered to take him back to his apartment, since it was monaco, the fia didn't have to book hotels for the both of you.

max had a gentle hand always holding yours as you walked him back to your apartments.

he had stopped in the middle of his tracks, your hands naturally disconnected, you turned to ask him if he was alright before he uttered the words out of his lips.

"what are we?"

you looked at him, almost confused. you passed it off as the meds at first.

"max, you're drugged. don't say things you don't mean," you walk a few steps to grab his hand again, but he was steadfast in his resolve. not wanting to move until you answered his question.

but you didn't know the answer to that either.

"answer the question, y/n," max said softly, he didn't want to make it seem like he was mad at you, he never was, "what are we exactly? i kiss you on the forehead to comfort you and i call you schatje but you've never reciprocated my moves, so tell me what are we?"

"schatje is a term of endearment right? what do you mean by that max?" max had always told you at schatje was something that someone would call their loved ones, you didn't bother searching it up either because he was the native dutch here, you took his word for it.

"i lied," max said quietly, his eyes were on the floor and he looked absolutely rejected.

you could never ignore the feelings that bloomed in your chest when max would sacrifice his sleep for you, the way he would wrap his arms around you, the way he would kiss your forehead with so much love in his eyes that he might break if he held in anymore.

you never realized it until now.

"so what does it mean?" you asked as you stood in front of him, trying to search for the answers in his pretty blue eyes but all you could see were the hints of disappointment and sadness.

"it means love, or baby— it doesn't matter what it means," max was frustrated now, you could tell by the way he tousled with his hair when he finished his sentence, he wanted an answer and fast.

you didn't know what to answer with.

it was undeniable that you did reciprocate his feelings but you didn't know how to word it out.

you were always bad with words.

"i don't know what to answer you with," you replied, as honest as you could get, you didn't want any misunderstandings with max. especially not now, not ever.

you guys had gotten close for a reason. he was your safe space, as you were his and you didn't want to throw it away all for a title to name the two of you.

"so you don't feel the same way? all these months of me comforting you, patiently listening and waiting for you to open up? it was all because you considered me a friend?" max asked, his grip off your hand was now slipping.

it was also a metaphor of your relationship with him breaking apart.

"i'm— i don't know max. this is all confusing to me, i've never dated anyone before and i don't know how to answer—"

"so when i kiss you, you don't feel it in your chest too? the warmth? the comfort? it's all just flat— just platonic to you?" max took a step back, it was almost he was stepping back from whatever was going on between the two of you.

"i'm not saying that—"

"let's not ruin your win tonight by arguing," max brushed past by you and continued to walk, not bothering to look back to see if you were following or not.

you weren't.

"p6, dnf, p10, p12, dnf, p18, p16, dnf— do you actually want to be a formula one driver, y/n?" fred had dropped a stack of papers of data of your past performances, you were frustrated too. you hadn't been able to get a good night's worth of sleep since monaco.

"look, i told you. i'm just having trouble with sleeping and the doctor prescribed me with pills for the insomnia too, what else do you expect from me fred?" you asked with a sigh, rubbing your temple, absolutely frustrated with your recent performance too.

"i want you to bring whatever you did in monaco, this isn't good enough for me, y/n. i can't keep defending you forever," fred had told you before leaving you with a headache and a stack of papers to analyze over.

"fucking fuck shit, stupid—" you stopped yourself as you set your elbows on the table and rubbed your face with your hands.

max...

it felt like you were stuck in a loop.

a never-ending, bad performing loop.

you didn't know what to do, you ate those sleeping pills like candy and they did nothing.

nightmares were more frequent now, having them almost everyday. the stress was slowly getting to you and you could see it in your performance.

you spent that night going over the data and simulating your races. your best tracks, worst ones and picked apart what you could do better.

every race, even your best tracks. it ended with something stupid.

understeering, oversteering, bumping into your own teammate, bumping into sim max, bumping into literally everything that wasn't supposed to be bumped into.

it was supposed to be flawless— you were supposed to be flawless.

what the fuck happened?

you knew the answer to that but didn't dare answer it for yourself.

"it's not working," you whispered to yourself as you took off the headphones and practically slammed it against the desk you were currently occupying. it was useless.

everything was fucking useless when it came to you.

your relationship with max was strained, he wouldn't even look at your direction, let alone talk with you. while him and charles were celebrating most of their podiums in the cooldown room, you were stuck here, overanalyzing whatever the fuck you did wrong.

rubbing your face with your hands again, you had barely heard someone come into the room with you with a sympathetic smile.

"it's one of those slumps, is it?" charles' voice had flowed into the room and it startled you, nearly jumping out of your own skin.

"jesus fucking christ, charles. knock," you rubbed your temples, your sleep-deprivation had earned you major migraines, they were practically permanently thumping in your skull now.

"sorry, i overheard fred talking to you earlier. then he told me that you might need a little help..." charles trailed off as he noticed the mess all over you, it was late and your flight for the next grand prix was due tomorrow morning.

"it's fine— i'm fine. i am not a child that needs to be babysat," you spat out in anger, "if he wants to get rid of me, he can. fucking coward," you growled the last part under your breath but charles was still understanding your situation.

"you know y/n, it's okay to ask for help sometimes—"

"i don't need help! i just need to sleep for once in my life," you closed your eyes, hoping for the thumping in your skull to just go away.

"are—"

"just get out."

first simulation, crash, dnf.

second, collision, dnf.

third, mistake on the curbs, p9.

fourth, spun out, dnf.

fifth, minimal mistakes, could be better, p2.

80% of your simulations ended in a crash.

"how the fuck did i do so well earlier this season? fucking shit ass car, shit ass team, shit ass driver—"

it was max.

"shut up!" you screamed out loud at your brain.

you were spiraling, it was obvious to everyone else but yourself.

being behind the wheel only a week after your kiss with the barriers had unnerved you.

was it even legal to drive an f1 car being this sleep-deprived?

you didn't want to know the answer to that.

"just focus on the race yeah? don't stress yourself out on anything else, just do your best—"

"i don't need your shitty peptalks before my race, anthony," you warned your race engineer and he didn't say anything remotely encouraging for the rest of the race.

your performance this time around was better than the rest of the races you overanalyzed a week ago.

p3.

podium.

more humans to interact with... yay.

if there was a time where you wanted to die, this was it.

max was in the cooldown room with charles.

you were dreading it.

"good job on the podium today! i knew you could do it," charles flashed you a big smile, you could only give him a small smile back.

this wasn't your peak performance, you knew it but you didn't want to say anything snappy, feeling bad for the words you yelled at him the other week.

you weren't doing good, and he knew so he always gave you some grace.

you didn't utter a word in that cooldown room, feeling lightheaded from the adrenaline and the lack of sleep.

you couldn't even feel the cold champagne on your skin when it came to podium celebrations, you were just thankful it was time to go home back to monaco when the race was over. autumn break was in full-swing and you wanted to sleep the entire break over.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE IM SORRY. i have been very busy :[

[zolass]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗞𝗶𝘀𝗺𝗲𝘁

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ···─KISMET with ACHILLES

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFeaturing; Ares and Ajax

ㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacters by @yanderefarm

Summary: The day you brought Achilles home, was the day where you end up as the fiancé. wc: 1k

tags; fluff ig, some dark stuff maybe idk, blood :) and Ares attacking reader, +

KISMET destiny; fate.

Note: I'm gonna be honest I brain farted this one so bad because I wanted to make a fluffy one which was really cute but I end up w this.

Anyways Achilles will get his redemption with other scenerios etc.

Hope y'all enjoy.

When did it come to this? You were awkwardly sitting in the living room, while Achilles sat beside you happily chatting away with his family, while you simply held his hand. There were a lot of rather hostile glances thrown at you, even though Achilles was supposed to be the leader, he was still obviously the most softest mentally wise and so more seen as the innocent child.

Not that they made it known as it definitely would upset Achilles.

So it was no surprise that they were rather shocked that Achilles brought someone home to a rare family dinner, thinking you corrupted the other’s mind. They weren’t so far off, but you didn’t plan for things to go like that. 

All you could do now was simply wait for the day to end, as you simply wanted to bring him back to his family. Favorable it would be, if you didn’t exactly die after you step out of their house. That means all you  could do was pray.

“How did the two of you meet? I mean you got kidnapped and suddenly you’re coming home with a stranger,” Ares stared you down, his eyes were cold and calculating. As if he knew exactly who you are and what you did.

You continued to stare back at Ares, as if the first one to look away would get struck by lightning. Well you did have guilt in your gut and it made it harder and harder to continue, Achilles slightly tapped your shoulder, making your attention waver back to him. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern. Your throat felt dry, so you simply nodded at him with a small smile.

Suddenly there was a pain in your shoulder, and a gasp left Achilles throat as he stared in shock and panic. You quickly turned your head to see a knife plunged into your shoulder. The erratic voice from Achilles got slightly high pitched, as his hands hovered above your shoulder while he was clearly panicking. 

The pain in your shoulder was rather immense and the blood sweeping into your shirt was like a small blur, as you simply watched as Ares stood just a bit away from you with clear hate in his eyes. Achilles' other brother, Ajax also didn’t do anything. He simply watched as and sipped on his wine, a smirk playing on his lips, “Now that’s going to be interesting,” you heard, before you were grabbed by your arm. You looked to the side and saw Achilles with tears in his eyes, his brows were pulled into a frown as he led you away.

Ares simply scoffed as he watched the two of you. 

Maneuvering you to his bedroom, Achilles had the help of a elderly lady as they treated your new wound. It wasn’t long until you were simply sitting there on the large bed, while Achilles was clinging to you. 

“I asked Lindsey if she should call one of our private doctors to check on you, he’ll be here soon, but don’t worry just rest,” you heard Achilles say, before your vision turned dark.

While you were sleeping, at least that’s what Achilles hoped, he waited for the doctor while keeping a close eye on you. The door was pushed open and his three family members waltzed in, and as he saw the nonchalant in Ares' eyes making the anger and disappointment in his gut flare up again.

Before the doctor came there was an argument that broke out between the brothers, which soon ended up with the silent treatment that they gave each other. Of course Achilles loved his brother, and Ares loved him just as much. This is also why he did what he did, simply to protect his brother.

When you woke up you found Achilles cuddled up to your form, your arm was treated better now. Through your stirring did Achilles wake up, and before you could say anything he littered your face with kisses. You gently held his shoulders, hoping for him to get the message.

You didn’t hate the kisses, in fact it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. But as you saw the sad look in his eyes, you couldn’t help but give him a kiss on his forehead. “Did something happen while I was out?” you asked, Achilles simply gave you a shy smile, making you unsure of what to expect.

It could’ve been a lot, but not you seated yet again on the couch in the living room, the older man, their father, was sitting rather relaxed on the couch with a cup of tea, Ajax was playing on the console some questionable game, and then there was Ares seated right across from you with a blank face. “So fuckface,” were the words from Ares which started the ‘conversation’ “My brother told us how the two of you met– to say the least I would rather gut you and let your corpse disappear in a ditch, but I don’t want my brother to hate me. So I sadly have to say; welcome to the family– dear brother-in-law.”

Ares' words surprised you, especially the last part, but you simply had to ask Achilles afterwards, “Well you’re also not the nicest pair of shoes I would pick,” you said and Ares just raised his eyebrow at your words, “What does shoes have to do with it? Are you perhaps–” he did a motion with his hand that you didn’t quite understand, making the red head across from you roll his eyes, “Are you gay?” he asked.

“Who’s gay? Me? But I never-” suddenly Ajax started to speak up in a panic, staring with wide eyes at the four of you. Ares simply rolled his eyes annoyed, “Just continue playing your game Aja.” 

At the end of the day, you asked what Ares meant with brother in law, which was when Achilles told you that they wouldn’t kill you, if you married him. Which in this case, Achilles agreed to.

“It seems to be kismet, Y/n.”

[izzyizumi]

Koushiro: “What did you want to talk with me about?”

Masami: “While the two of us were hiding at home,”

{Gifs by Me} {Do Not Copy} {Do Not Repost} “-...we talked and we decided that it’s time we’ve finally told you this.”

“The truth is... We’re not your real parents.”

“...I already {K N O W}. ...” (Mr & Mrs Izumi hang their heads in SHAME, quiet for some long moments, in response, as they listen...)

“I tried to pretend that I hadn’t heard anything. I thought that by ACTING normal, things would STAY THE SAME as before... ... But I COULDN’T DO IT.”

“In the end... I grew drawn to my computer so I wouldn’t have to show anyone my true self...”

(MASAMI, LOUDLY) “There is NOTHING ‘Wrong’ with being into {/being OBSESSED WITH} Computers!” {“Pasocon” = Computer} (Koushiro looks up quickly, startled, half-gasping OUT) “Father...!!” {“Otousan!”}

“That trait of yours is what makes you who YOU are.”

“...Still, you really are exactly like your real father...” “My real father?” “He was a distant relative of mine...”

“He was also a lecturer at a University. And a GENIUS {“Tensai”} Mathematician. Twelve years ago, he married your real mother and they had YOU.”

“{Your biological father} was with {your biological mother} when they met a terrible car accident.” “Neither of them survived.” - Masami, eyes closed throughout

“...We (“watashi-tachi”) had a child of our own once... A small boy. But they died when they were just a baby (“aka-chan”)...” - Mrs Izumi, forlornly and quietly, head bowed throughout

“Then, when we were asked {implied: by Masami’s distant relatives} if we could ‘take care of’ YOU... Well...” - Mrs. Izumi, adding on, trailing off...

“...So that’s what happened. ...” - Koushiro, with understanding, but softly, in usual formal tone

“We had planned to tell you everything when you were older.” “But we didn’t think that you ALREADY would have FIGURED IT OUT.”

“This must have been hard for you to deal with on your own. I’m sorry. ...”

“No... Actually, I’m grateful that you told me the truth.”

(Formal speech) “Thank you” [“Arigato[u] gozaimas[u]”] “N-No... I mean...” (Koushiro attempts to quickly correct himself) (Informal) “T-Thanks...” [“A...Ariga...tou...”] (Stammers over it) [Note: Koushiro in the original Japanese version is known for speaking in formal-esque Japanese speech.]

“YOU DON’T have to CHANGE yourself for US.” - Mrs Izumi

“YES. ALL WE WANT is for you to be HAPPY.” - Mr Izumi

(Koushiro tears up, sniffles, and begins outright SOBBING as he runs into their arms, hiding Koushiro’s face completely.)

{I eventually meant to add in the U.S. dub version for comparisons. Until I can, please be RESPECTFUL interacting on this post. As I am also someone from a “Non-normative family” like Koushiro, this was a super relevant scene to Younger me when I was growing up, and it means a lot to me on a personal level. I’d really appreciate if people could respect that when Interacting.} (Please regard the banner above, thank you!)

{Do Not Remove Caption} {Do Not Reproduce My Work Under Any Circumstances without my Permission!}

Digimon Adventure ~ Episode 38 (JPN Version) Koushiro[u] Izumi’s ADOPTION is revealed

For a near full version of the subbed text please see Here!

“… IT’S OKAY for you to {LIKE}/{BE OBSESSED WITH} Computers!!!!” - Mr. Izumi, LOUDLY AND INSISTENTLY

[great-and-small]

When I was in vet school I went to this one lecture that I will never forget. Various clubs would have different guest lecturers come in to talk about relevant topics and since I was in the Wildlife Disease Association club I naturally attended all the wildlife and conservation discussions. Well on this particular occasion, the speakers started off telling us they had been working on a project involving the conservation of lemurs in Madagascar. Lemurs exist only in Madagascar, and they are in real trouble; they’re considered the most endangered group of mammals on Earth. This team of veterinarians was initially assembled to address threats to lemur health and work on conservation solutions to try and save as many lemur species from extinction as possible. As they explored the most present dangers to lemurs they found that although habitat loss was the primary problem for these vulnerable animals, predation by humans was a significant cause of losses as well. The vets realized it was crucial for the hunting of lemurs by native people to stop, but of course this is not so simple a problem.

The local Malagasy people are dealing with extreme poverty and food insecurity, with nearly half of children under five years old suffering from chronic malnutrition. The local people have always subsisted on hunting wildlife for food, and as Madagascar’s wildlife population declines, the people who rely on so-called bushmeat to survive are struggling more and more. People are literally starving.

Our conservation team thought about this a lot. They had initially intended to focus efforts on education but came to understand that this is not an issue arising from a lack of knowledge. For these people it is a question of survival. It doesn’t matter how many times a foreigner tells you not to eat an animal you’ve hunted your entire life, if your child is starving you are going to do everything in your power to keep your family alive.

So the vets changed course. Rather than focus efforts on simply teaching people about lemurs, they decided to try and use veterinary medicine to reduce the underlying issue of food insecurity. They supposed that if a reliable protein source could be introduced for the people who needed it, the dependence on meat from wildlife would greatly decrease. So they got to work establishing new flocks of chickens in the most at-risk communities, and also initiated an aggressive vaccination program for Newcastle disease (an infectious illness of poultry that is of particular concern in this area). They worked with over 600 households to ensure appropriate husbandry and vaccination for every flock, and soon found these communities were being transformed by the introduction of a steady protein source. Families with a healthy flock of chickens were far less likely to hunt wild animals like lemurs, and fewer kids went hungry. Thats what we call a win-win situation.

This chicken vaccine program became just one small part of an amazing conservation outreach initiative in Madagascar that puts local people at the center of everything they do. Helping these vulnerable communities of people helps similarly vulnerable wildlife, always. If we go into a country guns-blazing with that fire for conservation in our hearts and a plan to save native animals, we simply cannot ignore the humans who live around them. Doing so is counterintuitive to creating an effective plan because whether we recognize it or not, humans and animals are inextricably linked in many ways. A true conservation success story is one that doesn’t leave needy humans in its wake, and that is why I think this particular story has stuck with me for so long.

(Source 1)

(Source 2- cool video exploring this initiative from some folks involved)

(Source 3)

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[thebibliosphere]

He sounded interested and even concerned. I thought he had been touched by what the doctor and advocates in the meeting had just shared about their journey with their patients and their own family members. But I was wrong.

“Those people . . . ” Donald said, trailing off. “The shape they’re in, all the expenses, maybe those kinds of people should just die.”

I truly did not know what to say. He was talking about expenses. We were talking about human lives. For Donald, I think it really was about the expenses, even though we were there to talk about efficiencies, smarter investments, and human dignity.

I turned and walked away

[from later in the article]

Donald took a second as if he was thinking about the whole situation.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, letting out a sigh. “He doesn’t recognize you. Maybe you should just let him die and move down to Florida.”

Wait! What did he just say? That my son doesn’t recognize me? That I should just let him die?

Did he really just say that? That I should let my son die . . . so I could move down to Florida?

Really?

[...]

Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear Donald say that. It wasn’t far off from what he’d said that day in the Oval Office after our meeting with the advocates. Only that time, it was other people’s children who should die. This time, it was my son.

When you’re legitimately so evil you tell a parent, your own fucking nephew, to their face that it’d be more cost-effective to let their child die because they are disabled.

Honestly, it's not the ableism or eugenics that shocks me. Donald Trump has shown who he is time and time again. I guess what got me was that he’d be willing to hold the same views for family members.

Usually these types of people make exceptions for their own. “It’s not immoral if it’s my abortion, I’m only doing this because I have no choice, mine is necessary” kind of thing.

But nope. Donald just straight up thinks his great nephew should die because it’s expensive to keep him alive.

Jesus Wept.

Fucking vote. Please, I’m begging you. As a disabled immigrant who isn’t able to vote I see so many people saying they’re going to boycott the election by not voting and I want to scream.

You boycott products by withholding money.

Not voting in elections only disenfranchises yourself. You’re not protesting. You’re giving tyrants power.

Please vote like people’s lives depend on it because they do.

If you need help figuring out how to register I will help you but please. Please vote.

[etheries1015]

Imagining Malleus is going through his heat cycle, and finds himself needing to be guided through the motions by none other than Lilia, of course. His subject? You.

(18+ minors DNI. Afab reader, fem pronouns.) this ones for you, bestie @masquerade-of-misery <3 live laugh love "threesomnia" LMAOOO

How you came into this predicament will be far beyond you. How you were now stripped bare by a hungry Draconic Fae, with your bare back pressed up against Lilias's chest, holding you in his grasp with his hands coming around to play with your sensitive mounds. His hands gently groped your tender breasts, flicking a finger over your hard nipples and pinching them at just the right pressure. Your back arched against his touch and a small and yearning moan elicited from your lips, Malleus looking down at you with a flushed face with his tongue licking his dry and hungry lips. Lilia chuckled at Malleus's eager display.

"It depends on the person," Lilia pointed out as if giving some sort of classroom lecture to the black-haired male, "Sensitivity of the breasts isn't uncommon. However, it seems our prefect here may need a little more than simple foreplay of the bosom to feel satisfied..." He rolled your nipples in his fingers and used the bulk of his palm to give a little squish to your breast, your breath becoming ragged as you melted into his touch, holding back a moan from the back of your throat. Lilia smiled at your rather simple reaction, before eyeing the shirtless fae that loomed over you. Malleus gave him a confused look before Lilia grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.

Encouraging him to move in the way Lilia had, Malleus placed his much larger and dexterous fingers against your soft skin. His movements were much more uncertain, slow, and passionate versus the older fae whose touch left you thinking about the surprising amount of skill he had and the ability to understand your body the moment his fingers touched your skin. As Malleus gently kneaded your breasts with caution, you were shocked when suddenly you felt sharp teeth dig into the crook of your neck. You let out a yelp of surprise mixed with a moan that sounded rather confused and high-pitched- even your body at odds with the pleasure of your chest and the now throbbing of your neck. Malleus looked up in concern at this, almost glaring daggers at the other fae as if to ask; 'what did you do?'

"The neck," Lilia purred into your ear nibbling the lobe, "Is a rather sensitive spot for humans...biting it is also seen as a form of possessiveness, in both Fae and Human mating. Interesting, no?" Lilia smiled mischievously as he playfully licked the wound he had left, your body shivering at the wet muscle that scaled from the base of your neck before teasing its way to your jawline. Malleus eyed the cheeky fae that held you in his arms, before heading his mentor's words and leaning over to take his place between the other side of your neck. Lilia moved your hair to the side to allow Malleus easier access to mark your neck, his hands continuing his relentless motions on your chest. It seemed he had gotten rather carried away, for you winced in pain and exclaimed "Ow!" when Malleus's nail ended up scratching your nipple. He pulled away, looking at you in worry and quickly removing his hands from your body. Lilia chuckled at this, a seemingly common pastime for him at this point.

"Humans are delicate," Lilia said to Malleus almost to chastise him for his mistake, "Make sure she is alright, and then continue forward. You need to think what each of your body parts are doing, and adapt accordingly." Malleus's eyes caught yours.

"Are you alright, child of man?" He cooed gently, his honey-deep voice immediately setting aside any uneasiness you may have felt. You gave him a nod and the okay to continue, Lilia whispering "Good girl," In your ear before his hands snaked down to the bottom half of your body, also bare for the two men to be witness to. Your legs were closed the time they were experimenting with your breast and higher extremities, Lilia used a skilled hand to open your knee and allow your legs to spread in front of the draconic fae. Malleus stared down at your dripping cunt, taking notice of the slick that glistened around your hole. The growing bulge of his pants became much more apparent as it grew in size, practically begging to be freed from the confines of the fabric he so frustratingly wanted to be released from.

Lilias hand snaked down from your inner thigh to place two fingers over your folds and spread them apart, making the wetness between your legs much more apparent for Malleus to see. You instinctively felt a jolt of pleasure at such a simple touch, your legs almost snapping shut if it wasn't for Malleus quickly using his hands to force your legs apart. Lilias eyes cocked in surprise at this action, his lips curling in a coy smile before resuming his "lecture."

"Human women have their own lubricating system. When they are aroused, they produce this-" He used two of his fingers to rub a few lines from the pearl of your cunt and entrance, holding them up to show off the glistening clear substance that now covered his fingers. "This is how they prepare to take the male in." Malleus watched earnestly with rosy cheeks, almost drooling at the simple idea that you were ready to take him in. Taking this point as the next step, Malleus began to unbuckle his belt to release him of his constricting confines. Your eyes widened at this, and Lilia 'tsked' at this, shaking his head. Malleus looked up in mild annoyance at the red eyed fae.

"Although she produced her own lubricant," Lilia pointed out, "We still must make sure it's safe for her to take you. You must prepare her, first." Malleus furrowed his eyebrows at this, sitting back slightly holding back a growl of impatience.

"Does her body not automatically prepare her for such actions? Is that not the purpose of the lubricant?" Malleus inquired. Lilia shook his head and gently rubbed your thigh, as if thanking you for your patience.

"I understand your impatience, Malleus. But you must understand, despite the lubricant, we want to avoid any injury that may occur for being ill-prepared for the size in which she is to take. To prevent tearing or pain, it's best to prepare her first in order to stretch her out to better take you in. Especially in your case, since most human males only have one." You started at this sudden statement, looking back between the two men bewildered.

"O-one? What do you mean by that?" Lilia looked at you with eyes wide with confusion.

"Hm? I thought you were aware? Draconic fae actually has two phalluses. One is for keeping the entrance of their mate open, while the other is to push their seed in for breeding. Although...it would be in your benefit to start with one at first, to ease you into it." Your face fell at this information, looking back at Malleus with your eyes wavering in concern. Malleus leaned over you, using a hand to place upon your cheek and stroke it gently, his emerald green eyes glowing with lust and affection for you.

"Do not worry," Malleus cooed with his words of honey, "I will be sure to prepare you as Lilia instructs." Biting your bottom lip, you nodded and tilted your head back. Malleus planted a gentle kiss against your forehead before returning back to his original position, awaiting patiently for Lilias's next set of instructions. Lilia continued to hold you against his chest, looking at Malleus from behind your slightly trembling body. The trembling was out of slight fear of the possibility of two fitting inside of you, yet it seemed all the more tantalizing and exciting at the same time...

"Now Malleus," Lilia continued his instruction, his hands trailing back down to your folds using two fingers to caress your pearl in a mix of circular and vertical movements, teasing the inside of your hole with only the tip of his fingertips, not quite indulging into it. you whined and found yourself moving your hips in the hope of more friction, for the bat's touch was light and you felt yourself become impatient. Lilia ignored your feeble movements and continued to explain as if you weren't so needlingly begging for more. "Start with one finger, and when you feel it enough, you can continue to add more. You will be able to tell she's ready by how much she can take of your fingers without feeling too tight." Lilia suddenly pushed two fingers at once inside of you, urging Malleus forward. He watched eagerly as a satisfied hum escaped your lips, your body arching ever so slightly as Lilia massaged the inside of your hole skillfully with his fingers. All at once and far too soon for your liking, Lilia removed his fingers, your slick completely covering them. "Now, you try. Move them like this-" The red eyed fae gave a demonstration to the horned male, malleus nodding before following instruction.

Malleus was much more clumsy when it came to such acts, you could feel it in the way his fingers stiffly entered you with very little fluid movement.

"curl your fingers gently and move upward. Feel how she tightens around your fingers when you do it correctly?" you had to admit, hearing Lilia talk about you in such a blunt manner about the ways in which your body reacted was enough to make your entire face red. Yet, the wetness down below was far more prominent with every word he spoke. Once he was able to add another two fingers, Malleus pulled out leaving you empty once more. He admired his fingers that were covered in your substance, before staring you directly in the eyes and using his tongue to lap up your wetness from his fingers. You weren't sure you could possibly become any more flustered than you already were, yet it seemed possible with every new action both of the men took. Deciding you had been stretched out enough, Lilia had given Malleus the okay to the next step.

The tall male stood up and unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to fall to the ground and removing his boxers allowing his cocks to be seen by your mesmerized eyes. You watched in anticipation as he shuffled back in front of you on his knees, your eyes never leaving the sheer length and girth that he had been hiding all this time.

"remember what I said earlier," Lilia said, using his hand to pull your legs apart further, "Humans are incredibly delicate. If you are not careful when breeding, you could harm your mate. Enter her slowly..." Lilias fingers snaked back down to your folds and once again used his skilled hand to pull them apart, Malleus pumping the top of the two cocks a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. Lilias fingers remained spreading you apart as he talked Malleus through every inch, yet the second the head of his cock penetrated you, you couldn't help but suck in air and almost pull back.

"t-too.. too big..!" You whined, Lilia hushing you gently and planting a kiss upon your cheek. Malleus leaned forward and groaned, his cock throbbing in desire to bury deep inside you. As you were taking inches of Malleus, you couldn't help but notice something hard poke at your bare back, like cloth that was rubbing against your skin. Lilia was hard. You hadn't the chance to speak up about it before the older fae ignored his obvious 'issue' and continued to coach Malleus through the motions.

"Let her adjust," Lilia said to the black-haired male, "(y/n), Tell him when you're ready to take more. And if it is too much to bear, speak your mind." Lilias's words were kind and gentle, his lips pressing against the lobe of your ear before biting down. After a few moments of adjusting to Malleus's size, you gave him the okay as Lilia guided him deeper inside of you.

"So tight and wet," Malleus let out a deep primal growl from the back of his throat as he was able to finally fully engulf himself in your warmth, "So warm...ah.." groaning while leaning forward and biting the crook of your neck, Malleus found himself trying to push deeper and deeper inside of you. Tears pricked the side of your eyes at the number of stimuli you were receiving, Lilia took notice and moved your head to face him kissing the tears away from your cheeks. "There...Good girl. You're taking him so well, aren't you?" He purred, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jawline, and from your jawline moving his teeth to graze against the other side of your neck. Once fully adjusted, Malleus began to go at a steady pace with moans of pleasure escaping his lips.

It wasn't long before he was fucking you relentlessly out of pure primal instinct, the room full of wet sounds of skin slapping against each other and moaning. Sweet moans that left your lips with one man penetrating you and the other sneaky hands roaming your body. Lilia used one hand to grope your breast and play with your hardened nipples while the other moved down to your clit and rubbed circles around it leading you closer and closer to your release. You could feel the bubbling pit of your stomach as your walls clenched around Malleus's cock and your back arched, a loud desperate moan slipping from your lips and your body trembling with ecstasy. At the same time, you felt Malleus twitch inside of you, with ropes of cum painting your swollen insides white. Your body went limp against Lillia's chest, panting roughly as the Draconic fae removed himself from the warmth of your cunt. Lilia used his thumb to pull open your swollen hole, watching as Malleus's thick seed pooled out of your twitching entrance. As Lilia sang your praises, Malleus leaned forward and kissed your forehead gently, you taking notice that he was still as hard as he had started.

"Seeing how well both of you did," Lilia smiled, "shall we try using the second one, next?"

You surely weren't going to be pulled away yet, not until Briar Valley had another heir on the way <3

[fuxuannie]

❥﹒ken sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — romantic headcanons about our favourite baseball player!

✦. love mail — i finished the movie and i loved his character development, simply the sweetest thing <3

✦. tags — SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, kenji sato x reader, i have not written in several months, i wrote this w my brain off ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) aka i was just SPITTING whatever brain rot came to mind

I imagine Kenji to be the clingy, but doesn’t want to be type. He loves you, so much, so dearly. But affection isn’t his strong suit, especially not after what happened with his family. He shut out emotions for years, at least towards others. So this feeling of love, a nostalgic one, tends to clash with the walls he’s put up. He’ll hold you in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, only for hours later to cringe at himself. He’s talked to you about it a thousand times, and he’s listened to you reassure him twice as many. He adores your patience with him, it's something he’s never really had.. especially with so much pressure on his shoulders.

Explaining his identity was surely no easy feat, you thought dating the most iconic and popular baseball players was the hardest thing? Imagine dating Ultraman, who came home to you every other week with some new injury. You always wondered why the reason was so simple for such a complicated wound, “I spilled boiling water on myself,” He explains with burn marks that are far more severe than expected. “I fell down the stairs”, he’ll say after landing in the hospital.. It didn’t make sense. And now that it does and you know the true reasons, your concern is far worse. Though he doesn’t mind the extra attention you give. ;)

Meeting his dad for the first time was.. nerve-wracking. You know how Kenji talks about him, and you weren’t sure what kind of impression you’ll make. But here you were, sitting on a couch and fiddling with your thumbs until you hear a doorbell. Before Kenji could even stand, you rushed to your feet and practically sprinted for the door, only to open it slowly and gently to reveal the kind old man standing outside. “Hello.” Cut to maybe an hour later, you’re laughing at old pictures of Kenji as he sits next to you and an arm wrapped around your shoulder. The two had a long path of forgiveness and understanding ahead, but Kenji appreciated that you brought him and his father together.

Thought the dad was scary? Imagine his daughter. As expected, the moment you walk into the room - distress. Emi’s starting to cry, an unfamiliar presence is in the room and it scares her. You’ve done a few babysitting jobs here and there, and she was really just like a child. Kenji apologized for her outburst and transforms to calm her down, opening the lid and picking her up under her arms. “No no, don’t cry.” His voice soothes her, and almost immediately - she’s okay again. It’ll take a few minutes, it really isn’t long until she trusts too you. Kenji found it adorable, how you played with her so casually.. many would be terrified, and rightfully so - but to him? It just displays your kind heart. My God did he love you.

Remember first headcanon? Right, to add to that, he’s not very good at vulnerability either. He’ll love to comfort you when you cry, or hold you when you need him. But if the roles were reversed? Absolutely not. He’s uncomfortable and you can see it, one look into his eyes and it’s like looking through glass.. he hates being open about his true feelings. Even if it’s with you.. the walls he’s built for 20 years aren’t easy to break, you know? But if you’re patient, and you take your time and say the right words – he’ll crack. And like a dam breaking, the water flows in an uncontrollable wave of sadness. He’ll sob, he’ll break, and he’ll need you more than anything. He doesn’t know how to feel about breaking down, but the way you hold him in your arms and whisper sweet nothings to comfort him, he could get used to it.

But on a lighthearted note, he loves dates! Most have to be in his home, because Emi can be clingy (got it from his dad), but you don’t mind. It’s sweet, he’ll have you play baseball with her or all you do is cuddle ontop of her, it’s the cutest little thing. But other times, when you go out– it’s just the two of you. And upon special request from Kenji for Mina to babysit her while you're there, you two get alone time. and it’s everything to him. The smallest affection has his heart racing like a teenage boy again, wrapping your arm around his, holding his hand, kissing him? Goodness, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it. You and Emi are his world, and he’ll do everything to protect it. Other days, you, him, and and his father go out to the home in the woods for some personal time. You get to talk about his childhood with him and you talk about yours. There’s such a tender and unforgettable atmosphere when you’re with them. And you truly feel like you belong.

Overotectiveness, he was full of it. He’s lost so much, and all he wanted was for you to not go either. Nothing, nothing could stop his rage at the idea of you being hurt. You, Emi, anyone else important to him. He’ll take on the world for his family, and by the will of his parents he has. The pain he’s endured, the scars you scold him for so much are for you. If one threat escapes the city, that’s one likely chance he loses you. So he does everything he can to handle it. You’ve never gotten hurt, but the idea of it is enough for him to strive to be stronger.

While recovering from the explosion, you never left his side. It pained you to see him so still, lack of life. He’d usually be pacing back and forth in the room, rambling about something, and when you’d call him a nerd or dork, he'd run to you and playfully attack you with kisses. His arms around you tightly as you two would laugh your worries away, you didn’t have that privilege. You’d either laugh alone or not at all, the pain all too much. When he wakes up, best believe you’re there, and you just cry at the sight of his arms opening. You know his body is far too unstable for a hug, so you squeeze his hand. How grateful you are to feel him squeeze back.

With Mina and Emi gone, the house feels a little more lonely.. but Kenji’s adjusting. Especially because you moved in! He’s able to spend more time with you in bed since he didn’t have to tend to Emi, which was a nice plus. He woke up earlier than you (force of habit.) and he’d just.. stare. Maybe it was a little creepy, but seeing you sound asleep in his arms gave him such joy. He loved the little domestic moments he shared with you, it had him appreciating all the smaller things in life. Like sharing a meal with you, or watching movies together. You made him love the simpler aspects of living.

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

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“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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[wifelinkmtg]

TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[rhaenyra-storms]

STOPP your drabble of cregan was adorable, we need more stories of him!! i would like to request something for cregan, where the reader is his lady wife and is introduced to jacaerys for the first time!! it’s up to you whether they have children of their own or it’s just rickon (cregan’s child from his first marriage), i like to think lady stark!reader would become eager to talk to jacaerys and his dragon!!

thank you so much!! i literally love writing for him omg. and i would definitely freak out too if i was able to see a dragon!! :,)

it got a lot longer than expected, but i hope you enjoy!!

pairing: cregan stark x wife!reader warnings: cregan is a little overprotective, that's it, just fluff words: 1.7k

You didn't want to believe it at first.

Cregan was sitting in the Great Hall of Winterfell when the news arrived. A few scouts had spotted a dragon flying north at a rapid pace and tensions were high in the castle.

Winterfell was far away from King's Landing, as was the coronation of the new King Aegon, but the Starks and the North were still sworn to the Targaryens. You and your husband had already suspected that sooner or later, you would be dragged into their mess as well.

Judging from the little time you had spent at court in the South, you knew the Targaryen family was a horrible mess. When King Viserys made the decision to name Rhaenyra heir to the Iron Throne, you knew it would be catastrophic as soon as the old King would pass.

"Do we know who the dragon belongs to?" Your husband's deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Cregan always asked the right questions, to the right people, but this time... everyone seemed a little clueless.

You placed a hand on your husband's arm, giving it a little squeeze. "They will not attack alone and without an army. They don't have reason to," you said in a quiet voice, just for him to hear. Cregan gave you a soft smile as he looked over at you, but his eyes were filled with concern.

While an attack was highly unlikely, he couldn't really exclude it entirely and that was already enough reason for him to worry. He wanted to keep you safe and all the people in Winterfell.

"We should still proceed with caution," your husband answered, his hand finding yours and giving it a small squeeze in return. He then pushed himself out of the chair, towering next to you, before he addressed the rest of the people in the room. "We will welcome the dragon rider into our home. With caution. I do not want to start a war with the crown, not when we have more important things to worry about."

Cregan knew the next winter would not be far and he needed to make sure his people were well-prepared and his men were strong. You had always admired your husband for his composure and his natural talent for ruling.

Two hours later, you welcomed the oldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen into your home. Your husband had talked to him alone at first, using the Godswood as a sight of common ground and when a servant informed you that he wished for you to join them for dinner, you knew their conversation had probably been a positive one.

"Lady Stark," Jacaerys nodded his head at you as soon as you entered the Great Hall. He was a pretty man, his black curls a mesmerising sight. However, you couldn't deny that all the rumours you had heard about his father might be true then. He didn't have the signature Targaryen white hair and from the few times you had met Lord Harwin Strong, he seemed to resemble him quite clearly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my Prince," you greeted him with a smile. Jace gently placed a kiss upon your knuckles.

"The pleasure is all mine, m'lady."

Cregan watched Jace closely as you two introduced yourselves to each other, but after their short conversation he felt like he could trust Jacaerys. He had been kind enough not to threaten him with his dragon. Said creature was now waiting outside the Winterfell gates and he was sure the people of the castle couldn't take their eyes off it. The Lord of Winterfell himself could only describe the creature as mesmerising and a sight to behold. And he knew that his wife would probably love to meet a dragon.

The dinner went by quite fast and the conversations were lighthearted despite the general situation of the realm. Jacaerys didn't mean to only talk about the conflict between his mother and Aegon, but he knew that he had a chance to win Cregan Stark over for their cause. And winning over his wife as well in a way would be beneficial too.

"Have you ever seen a dragon, my lady?" Jace asked you after he placed his cup of wine back on the table. You could feel your husband smile next to you. He was very aware of the fact that you had always been fascinated by those creatures. Their freedom to fly, their strength and their sheer power. Dragons were pure magic in your eyes.

"Unfortunately not, my Prince," you answered, leaning back in your chair a little. Jace had mentioned "Vermax" throughout the conversation and you knew the dragon was waiting outside the gates. Its roars were hard to miss throughout the day.

"But I would love to. One day."

"Then today might be the day. If you wish to, of course," Jace gave you another polite nod and an inviting smile. The prospect of meeting a dragon had you ecstatic in seconds, but you knew your husband would suspect danger in this situation. He was more than right for that.

"I would love to accompany you two then." Cregan sounded determined, but still polite. A subtle sign for Jace to understand that he was good-willed, but still cautious.

The support of the North was vital to Rhaenyra's cause, so Jacaerys really didn't intend to mess it up.

"Vermax is a kind dragon. As long as you mean no harm." Jace waited for your husband to push his chair back and stand up first. You followed right after, hooking your arm with Cregan's as you made your way outside.

The sight before you was stunning.

It was already dark outside, but the dragon could hardly be missed. His olive green scales appeared almost black in the dark and your husband grabbed a torch from a guard as you approached.

"Relax, Vermax", Jacaerys spoke in Valyrian, making you raise your eyebrows for a moment. You wished you would have paid more when your family's maester had tried to teach you a few simple words in Valyrian.

"They're our friends."

Vermax' eyes turned into slits for a moment, studying both you and Cregan. The dragon was probably evaluating if you were a threat despite his rider's kind words.

"I've seen more outgoing dragons than Vermax, but he's a gentle one at heart," Jace explained.

It was fascinating to hear about dragons having different personalities and being a little more like humans in a way. Some were impulsive, others were shy. As a child, you had always wished for a dragon as a pet.

"It's... He's wonderful," you whispered, feeling your husband's arm wrap protectively around your waist. Cregan would rather throw himself in front of the dragon's teeth than watch anything happen to you.

"I know. Do you want to touch him?" Jace asked, his voice soft and inviting. "Only if you want to, of course. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable in any way."

Excitement bubbled in your stomach. You could feel the heat rush to your face. All your childhood dreams seemed so close now – meeting a dragon, touching a dragon and pretending for just a moment that you could be a dragonrider too.

Cregan's grip around you tightened, a small reminder of how all of this could backfire. A cold wind blew by and you took a deep breath.

"I will be fine," you assured your husband, taking the time to plant a kiss to his cheek. A small attempt to calm him, but you knew that he would always be worried for your safety. The Lord of Winterfell only knew you were safe when you were in his arms, sleeping safe and sound.

Slowly, you made your way over to the dragon. It seemed to smell your anxiety and retreated for a moment. Jace put up his hand, a sign for Vermax to calm down – to relax. There was nothing bad that would happen.

You gave the dragon time, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you couldn't take your eyes off the creature in front of you. It still seemed wary, but after a few short moments, the dragon eventually bowed down a little, lowering itself to the ground. It was a silent invitation for you to come closer.

But you still wanted to get reassurance from Prince Jacaerys who quickly gave you a nod and beckoned you closer.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest when the dragon sniffed your hand.

Your husband was on the edge of his nerves behind you. His hand was already positioned at his sword, as if he would stand a chance against a dragon. "Careful, my love," he mumbled. He was feeling increasingly uneasy as he watched you and he let out a small gasp when you eventually laid your hand on the dragon's head.

Vermax closed his eyes slowly after he had eyed you enough. You weren't a threat. Not to him and not to Jace.

The dragon's skin was warm and hard, rough against the soft palm of your hand. "Seven hells..." you mumbled, watching in fascination as Vermax continued to relax.

Jace placed his hand on the dragon's wing for a moment, stroking it softly. "I told you he is a kind one. I would offer you a ride, but I think your husband might fall over dead if I do." It was a small jest, but it made you laugh softly.

You turned your head a little, spotting the Lord of Winterfell as he was tensing up more and more behind you. He forced a smile to his lips, trying to look more relaxed than he was. Cregan wanted you to fulfil your dreams, but he needed to keep you safe as well.

However, seeing you as happy as this, as your hand laid upon the dragon's nose, he couldn't help himself but smile a little more genuinely. His hand remained at his sword, but his shoulders relaxed nonetheless.

Seeing the joy in your eyes as Jace told you more about Vermax and the dragon seemed to be content with your presence, Cregan couldn't help but think about how many more days he wanted to spend like this. Seeing you happy was the biggest light in his world.

He'd do anything to see that beautiful smile. Over and over.

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

_____________________________________________________

“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

[connorsui]

“Out of all the things that could have happened today... this is at the bottom of the list,” Megumi deadpanned, his arms crossed as he watched the floating toddler.

Yuuji, on the verge of losing it, waved his hands frantically. “How do we get her down!? Gojo-sensei is going to be coming back soon!”

“I didn’t even know she had this much cursed energy to begin with! How is it possible she’s already out and about like this!?” Nobara added, eyes wide with disbelief.

Before anyone could come up with a solution, the giggling toddler blinked out of existence, causing all three students to simultaneously shout, "Eh!?"

“She’s...” Megumi began.

“She’s gone!?” They all said in unison, now staring at the empty space where the child once was.

“What do we do!?” Yuuji panicked, grabbing at his hair.

“This wouldn’t have happened if Kugisaki hadn’t demanded we go out on one of her shopping sprees!” Megumi shot back.

“Oi! Don’t you dare pin this on me! You two were supposed to be the ones looking after her!” Nobara snapped, pushing Megumi with a sharp glare.

Before the argument could escalate, a familiar, lazy voice interrupted them.

“Now, now, let’s not fight over something soo cute.”

All three turned, only to find Gojo Satoru standing a few feet away, his wife by his side, cradling their daughter in her arms. The toddler was happily babbling and playing with her mother’s hair, seemingly unaware of the chaos she had caused.

“Gojo-sensei…” Yuuji mumbled, face turning pale.

“Umm... where did she teleport to?” Nobara asked cautiously.

Gojo grinned behind his blindfold. “Not too far. You kids are lucky... my precious little bundle of joy decided to teleport straight to us!”

You smiled warmly at the trio before your expression turned more concerned. “Are you three okay? Yuuji, you look like you’re—”

“I’m fine!” Yuuji interrupted quickly, attempting a smile that only made him look more distressed.

Nobara cleared her throat. “Are we going to get punished for this by any chance?”

Gojo tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know... Let’s ask the missus here.” He turned to you with a teasing grin. “What do you think, my love? Should we punish these kids for allowing our precious baby of adorable life to almost get away?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glare crossing your face. “Punish them? If anyone’s getting punished, it’s going to be you, Satoru! You were supposed to be watching her!”

Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji watched in stunned silence as you and Gojo bickered, their eyes darting between the two of you. Gojo’s dramatic pout grew deeper as you scolded him.

“I leave her with you, and everything just goes to chaos!”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped, his exaggerated sulking only causing your daughter to giggle harder as she watched her father silently sulk. “cmoonnnn you know I didn't mean too?”

You cut him off with a sigh, adjusting your hold on your daughter, who had now buried her face in your neck. “sure you dont”

The three students shifted awkwardly as Gojo dramatically sighed once more, still sulking. He leaned in toward his daughter, who was still giggling at his antics.

“Your mom is so scary, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I heard that.”

Gojo laughed, his usual carefree demeanor back in full force. “Alright, alright. No harm done, right? She’s back safe and sound. So, no punishment for the kids. I think I’ve suffered enough.”

You smiled softly at him, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Satoru.”

“But thats why yooou loooove me,” he teased, flashing you that signature smile.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Unfortunately for me, yes.”

Behind you, the trio silently muttered to themselves: “why do we have to deal with this"

[augustinewrites]

a/n: bcs childe would absolutely benefit from dating a lawyer (also a repost from one of my other accs!)

“finally!” childe exclaims, fist-pumping the air as he hops to his feet. “i was starting to think you’d all forgotten about me.”

tartaglia aka the eleventh harbinger aka childe had been the subject of multiple meetings you’d attended in the last few days. with him finally in custody, immunity void, everyone wanted their pound of flesh.

you roll your eyes, nodding your head for the guards to open the cell. “you’ve only been in holding for three hours.”

“three very long, very boring hours.” he briefly stretches his arms above his head, rocking on the balls of his feet as he blinks down at you. “so i take it you’re my lawyer?”

“that's correct,” you confirm, telling him your name and stepping back as the guard cuffs his hands, shoving him forward as his partner leads the two of you down the hall. you pretend not to notice as the harbinger studies the manacles, smirking as if he’s already figured a way out of them.

normally, you preferred to stay as far away as possible from the fatui— especially one as dangerous as a harbinger. as the liyue qixing’s main legal advisor, you’d already had a handful of run-ins with the snezhnayan “diplomats,” as they called themselves. while pantalone hadn’t been as cutthroat as childe in the literal sense, his wit and business savvy were just as fearsome.

yet here you were, actually representing a harbinger in court. a major conflict of interest, yes, concerning your current affiliation, but with the harbor temporarily closed for travel and public defenders up to their knees in (fatui) clients, they’d had no choice but to have you take him on as a temporary client.

a gesture of goodwill, lady ningguang had called it. so her majesty knows we gave him a fighting chance in court. our best for her best.

so yes, there was that, and there was the fact that no one else wanted to represent him.

you’re led into the interrogation room, childe moving to pull your chair out for you. “c’mon,” he urges when you hesitate, setting your bag on the table. “i may be a criminal, but my mother taught me my manners.”

you pull out the chair next to it, sitting down and leveling him with a stern look. “pulling out a chair does not cancel out the multiple felonies you’re about to be charged with.”

“please,” he laughs, taking a seat himself when you opt to drag another chair to the table. “you’re giving me way too much credit, babe. i only committed maybe one or two.”

—

“gross negligence, disorderly conduct, destruction of property–”

childe clears his throat loudly, ignoring the glare you send his way. the one that says i told you so.“technically it was lady ningguang that threw the jade chamber at osial, not me. i wasn’t even there.”

the butt of xiao's weapon hitting the floor makes a terrifying sound. that's all it takes to silence the harbinger as ganyu turns the page.

“–desecration, assault, and attempted murder. these are the charges that can be brought against your client by the liyue qixing and the liyue adepti.”

childe pushes out of his seat, slamming his palms onto the table. “attempted murder?”

“please sit down,” you urge, but your attempt to placate him is unsuccessful as he shakes off your hand. “you haven’t been found guilty yet–”

“that makes me sound weak. i got way farther than just an attempt!” he exclaims, ignoring you completely.

“archons, help me,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the heavens for strength. “ganyu,” you interrupt before your client can further incriminate himself, yanking his arm until he sits back down. “could i please have a moment alone with my client?”

“i will give you one minute,” she agrees, but while she turns to leave, xiao remains stubbornly rooted in place.

you smile sweetly at the adeptus. “xiao, if you hear me scream, you can come in here and do whatever you want to him.”

the adeptus chuckles at that (albeit very slightly) as he flashes out of the room, and childe makes an offended noise. "hey, aren’t you my lawyer? you’re supposed to be protecting me!”

your sweet smile immediately drops from your face. “i'm only here because of your right to an attorney, and because almost all of liyue harbor’s public defenders are busy representing your subordinates. ganyu only agreed to meet with us before your arraignment because she owes me a favour, so be nice.”

“well, you’re all wasting your time,” childe shrugs, alarmingly calm for someone in his position. “because i’m a snezhnayan diplomat. i have rights!”

“do you?”

“uh…i think i have rights?”

“you had rights,” you correct sharply. "you forfeited diplomatic immunity the second you decided to commit multiple, very serious criminal offences. so shut up and stop incriminating yourself further so i can do my job.”

“and you could argue that i was just doing mine,” he quips, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. “hey, how long do you think it’d take me to break out of a prison here? ‘cause i’m thinking a week at most.”

cocky bastard.

rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to never agree to represent a fatui harbinger again, even if the pay is as good as it is. “are you really looking to add felony escape to your rap sheet?”

he winks, and you question all your life decisions. “it's only felony escape if i get caught.”

“you will get caught,” you deadpan. “do you seriously think that xiao or the other adepti will let you live if they see you in anyplace but a jail cell?”

“so what? i can fight.”

they might as well convict him now.

you send him one last warning glare as ganyu and xiao return, the latter looking more disgruntled than usual as ganyu says,

“the charges against you have been dropped.”

both you and your client are silent for a moment, because—

“what?”

“holy shit,” childe exhales, nudging your shoulder with his. “you're pretty good.”

you are good, yes, but not this good. “ganyu—”

she holds up a hand. “mr. zhongli sends his regards. you'll be compensated at double your current rate for your time.”

that shuts you up, and the room falls silent at the consultant’s name.

(you wonder if childe knows. it was his purpose, wasn’t it? to draw rex lapis out and steal the gnosis.)

the awkward silence is broken when xiao clears his throat. “while it’s been maintained that the charges be dropped, the qixing and adepti agree that community service and a hefty fine shall suffice in place of a conviction.”

“sounds fair to me,” you agree, because there’s really no better deal than this. you take the contract that the adepti hand you, giving it a quick read before sliding it over to your client. “mr. tartaglia?”

childe simply hands his cuffs to a stunned guard next to him, grinning as he takes the quill from your hand. “where do i sign?”

__________

the relatively peaceful stroll back to your condo is interrupted by the sound of quick footfalls behind you. you don’t have to turn around to know it’s childe, here to make your night even harder.

“don’t you have a community to serve?”

childe bounds up next to you, an annoyingly pretty smile curling on his lips. "can’t i start with taking a pretty lawyer to dinner?”

you hope the heat you feel creeping up your neck stays hidden by your shirt collar. “it’s two in the morning.”

he grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, right. how about a drink then? i know the owner at third-round knockout.”

your pace slows as you glance toward chihu rock. the idea of going home to have a nice, long soak in the tub tugged at you, but you could use a strong glass of, well, anything after this absolute shitshow of a week.

“alright, fine,” you agree tiredly (partly because he doesn’t seem like the type to take ‘no’ as an answer). “just one drink, tartaglia, and only if you’re paying.”

_____

childe liked to watch people.

not in that way, mind you. bold and battle-hungry as he may be at times, he had always preferred silence, and by proxy, silent observation. he was never one for the long-game, but sometimes sitting back to watch and listen to those around him simply proved more beneficial. it was fun to see how people reacted to certain things, especially if the catalyst was an event he’d manipulated.

his people-watching made him an expert at reading between the lines to discern one’s true nature. he tries to apply it here, sitting with you. he doesn’t sense anything particularly hostile (other than your understandable passive aggressiveness), but your silence is heavy with distrust, and the slight the crease between your brows is marring your pretty face.

you’re hiding something. or maybe you think you are.

“stop staring at me,” you mutter without so much as a glance in his direction, the corners of your lips downturned as you sip from your glass.

undeterred, childe leans in, amused when you immediately lean away. clearly you have a good sense of self-preservation. “i’m not staring. i’m…gazing.”

“well, stop,” you warn. “it's creepy.”

a grin curls on his lips. “you like it.”

the noncommittal noise you make isn’t a ‘no,’ so childe decides to take that as a win.

“so…” he starts slowly, a finger tracing the rim of his glass. you’ve had three glasses of liquor by now, definitely not enough to warm you up to him, but hopefully enough that you’ll accidentally tell him what he wants to know in an effort to prove him wrong. “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

instead of answering, you immediately pivot with, “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

“work,” he replies with a click of his tongue. “how does a lawyer become acquainted with a funeral parlour consultant?”

“how does a harbinger become acquainted with one?”

the smartass answer would simply be to gesture to himself. death was his business, his trade, his currency— just like a funeral consultant's.

but he has a feeling the smartass answer won’t earn him more than a smack upside the head so instead he settles for, “like i said, work.”

whatever you mutter under your breath is accompanied by a roll of your eyes, so childe guesses it’s an insult. he scoots his seat closer to yours anyway. “you're from around here. what do you know about him?”

“that depends,” you shrug, swirling the amber liquid around in your glass. “i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what you know.”

“and i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what it is you know."

"hm. then i guess neither of us will know what the other knows.”

childe knows that you know (he doesn’t really, but he has a very strong feeling that you do). he doesn’t even really care if you’ll admit it or not. he just wants to find your line and see what it’ll take to get you to cross it.

which brings him to his next endeavor.

“anyway, are you single? if you are, then great! If you aren’t, i can definitely take ‘em.”

he’s not sure why you choke on your drink like you’re shocked.

“seriously, childe?” you ask, shaking your head slightly.

“why not?” he shrugs, gesturing to his mussed-up hair and scuffed clothes. “are you really saying you wouldn’t take a run at all this, given the chance?”

if looks could kill, you’d definitely be the one being charged with attempted murder. “i wouldn’t even take a walk at it."

something stirs in his frostbitten heart because, archons, you’re mean.

he’s so into it.

“i’ll grow on you eventually,” he assures you, surely almost losing a few fingers as he plays with a strand of your hair. “especially if you come work for me. i’ll double whatever the liyue qixing’s paying.”

he’d get pantalone to sign off on it somehow.

you wrinkle your nose with distaste. “work for the fatui?”

“no, no. you’ll have your hands full with just me. i commit so many felonies that you won’t have to take on another client ever,” he corrects, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. “and honestly? i don’t like to share.”

“not interested,” you say, and he laughs when you shove him away, downing the rest of your drink. “i’ll meet you tomorrow morning to get your community service hours sorted. goodnight, childe.”

all right, you're playing hard to get, childe thinks to himself as he turns back to his drink. but that's okay. the only thing more satisfying to him than catching his prey is the thrill of a good chase.

if you notice him flinch slightly when you pat this hand, you don’t notice, rising from your stool to leave. you can’t leave yet! he hasn’t weakened your defences with his wily charms and roguish good looks. “hey, wait—”

it's embarrassing how long it’d taken him to realize his hand had been stuck to the bar.

frozen to the bar, to be specific. it's even more embarrassing that he hadn’t noticed the cryo vision sitting just above the curve of your ass.

he stares at the ice cocooning his hand in genuine shock and awe. It’s crystal clear, free of any cloudy impurities. he’s from snezhnaya, he knows his ice. “this is— this is hard to do. you’re really good.”

he wonders, briefly, if you’re any good with a blade. he pictures it (fantasizes, actually), but quickly snuffs out the vision because he’s starting to get a little turned on.

but super hot, slightly homicidal guys must not be your type, judging from the way you brush off his compliment and turn on your heel, leaving him with a two-fingered salute.

“see you tomorrow, harbinger.”

he may not be your type right now, but, yeah, he’s definitely gonna change that.

a/n: if you found this on ao3 then congrats! you found my ao3. also if you made it to the end!! pls tell me what u think childe would do for community service in liyue LOL i would love to discuss