#but softer and less sure of his capabilities

[sirfrogsworth]

Hard & Soft: An Explanation of Light

I was watching a video from one of my favorite tech YouTubers, Mr. Whose the Boss. He was showing off some of his favorite tech and pulled out this tiny LED light.

And then he placed a diffuser on the front and said this...

"You can equip a softbox on the front which *massively* softens the light on your face."

Sorry, Arun.

No it doesn't.

I sometimes wish I could get a job as a YouTube lighting advisor. So many creators have to set up and use professional lighting but very few actually have an understanding of how their lighting works. And with just a little knowledge they could up their lighting game big time.

If nothing else, I could stop the plague of ring lights.

Ring lights are my nemesis.

*shakes fist at ring lights*

Arun repeated a classic myth. Diffusing a light does *not* make it softer. And despite the name, a softbox is fully capable of producing hard light. Especially if it is only the size of your granddad's wallet.

I'm afraid softboxes are a bit misnamed—much like how the tremolo system on a guitar is technically a vibrato mechanism. Tremolo is a fluctuation of volume, not pitch. Personally, I just stick to calling it a whammy bar because that is more fun anyway. And, like, what does "whammy" even mean in the context of a guitar? I'd rather call something by a nonsensical name than an inaccurate one, ya know?

What the hell was I saying?

SOFTBOXES!

They should probably be called "light homogenizers." Which is a mouthful, but more accurate.

Or, hear me out... WHAMMY BOXES.

Froggie Note: I am trying a color coding technique to help make the most important information stand out. Red means PAY ATTENTION and blue means "do your best to remember this." Let me know if this is helpful or annoying or if a different color combo is preferred.

Hard Light vs. Soft Light

Hard light is a less flattering light source that creates high contrast, sharp shadows, and accentuates texture.

Soft light is a more flattering light source that creates soft shadows and reduces texture like pores, blemishes, and wrinkles.

You can *only* get hard or soft light by changing the apparent size of a light source from the subject's point of view.

If you remember only three things about light, they should be...

Bright light = sharp photos, less noise Hard light = small light source Soft light = large light source

Now, it's important to remember that hard light is not *bad* and soft light is not *good*. In photography, the oft-used parlance "flattering" just refers to the rendering of facial features and blemishes. So you might use a more flattering lens to make sure faces do not distort or a more flattering light modifier to reduce wrinkles.

But there are situations where soft light can be very boring and hard light can be much more dynamic and interesting. But if you have someone who is insecure about their skin or has a lot of blemishes, you can mitigate that by making the light softer. But if you have someone with great skin and a lot of angular facial features, you might use a hard light to show that off.

Which of these do you prefer?

The one on the left was taken with a 7 foot diameter light source and is *very* soft. But the other had a 1 foot diameter and I think it is more dynamic and interesting.

You can also mix hard and soft light. And with something like a parabolic reflector or a beauty dish, you can even modify a light source to be hard and soft at the same time.

This technological terror of a light modifier is sort of like having 24 individual small lights around the edges but the entire surface of the reflector also acts as a single large light source.

And when it isn't atomizing Alderaan, it is taking photos like this...

This creates a falloff of light around the edges of her face, nose, and arms while also reducing the intensity of the shadows. Lenses with longer focal lengths prevent distortion of facial features but also flatten our faces. So a modifier like this can bring back dimensionality.

Neat!

Now I just need $8,000 to buy the Death Star light.

There are a ton of possibilities when it comes to modifying light sources, but most people typically want the main light on the subject to be in the realm of soft and use hard light sources as edge lights.

Also, everything is a spectrum and light is no different. There is a giant space in between hard and soft to play with. In fact, the hardest light possible would be cast on a subject floating in space.

And the softest light possible would be on a planet that has 100% cloud coverage that still allows sunlight to scatter through.

So, I have determined the surface of Venus to be the most flattering light in the universe.

Look at how dark and sharp that astronaut shadow is! And I'm sure Venusian photography would be quite popular if you wouldn't burst into flames.

On planet Earth, noon on a clear day would be the hardest light and a very overcast day would be the softest light.

How can the sun be both hard and soft light?

Well, the sun is quite large, but it is very small in the sky and very far away. It is the only thing humans can observe that is close to a "point" light source—the smallest light source possible that shines light equally in all directions.

But on an overcast day, sunlight scatters through all of the clouds and becomes a HUGE homogenous light source. The clouds become a singular giant light above us. And as you can see, the light is so soft the woman does not have a hint of shadow on her face. And shadows can draw attention to pores, wrinkles, blemishes, and other textures.

But wouldn't the smallest light source be a laser or something?

When photographers refer to a small light source we mean from the perspective of the subject being lit. This is referred to as apparent or angular size.

But you also have to account for the size of the area the light source can illuminate.

This is the area a laser can light up.

And this is the area the sun is able to cats cast light upon.

It doesn't matter if a laser is close or far away, it focuses light onto a very small area. But the sun lights up half the planet. So look at imagine the apparent size of the sun in the sky and compare its size to half of the Earth. In that relative circumstance, the sun is a super tiny light source.

And the sun becomes an even tinier light source on the moon because there is no atmosphere or clouds to scatter and enlarge it.

You can change the apparent size of a light source in two ways...

The physical dimensions of the light and the distance from the subject.

A light with small dimensions can be a large light source if it is close enough and if the subject is small enough. So a flashlight could be a large light source for an ant if that flashlight is directly next to said ant. But a flashlight could never be a large light source to a human.

However, we can enlarge small light sources with modifiers.

A modifier can be a softbox. It can be a piece of paper. A large poster board. A wall or a ceiling. Anything that changes the nature of a light source can be a modifier. But not all modifiers increase the size of a light source.

So, you can take that flashlight, shine it on a wall, and reflect the light to make a giant light source capable of producing softer light.

But what you cannot do is put diffusion material directly in front of a flashlight and make the light it produces softer.

When Arun put that diffuser on the front of that tiny light, he was not making the light any bigger. He was only making the light more diffused.

What does diffusion *actually* do?

Diffusion scatters light. It makes light bounce in all directions and keeps it from being focused. And while this is an important aspect to making a light source larger, it does not change the apparent size of a light source on its own.

Diffused light is homogenous.

A homogenous light source has the same intensity across its entire surface area. And that homogenization is the key to creating a better soft light source. It can *assist* in making a light source larger, but only if you know how to wield that diffusion properly.

When you shine a flashlight toward a wall, you increase the apparent size of the light source.

Fantastic! You now have a softer light. Mission accomplished.

But if you do not diffuse it, you will create a hotspot.

That bright hotspot will reflect more light than all of the other light reflecting off the wall. That reflected light has different intensities across its surface area and you end up creating TWO distinct light sources—one hard and one soft.

This can sometimes be desired if you want to create graduated light that falls off like I showed earlier. But if it is not controlled well with a specialized modifier a hotspot can cause more problems than benefits.

This can reveal unwanted texture, double shadows, cause harsh glare, and it may not achieve the desired amount of soft, flattering light you were hoping for.

However, if you diffuse the light from the flashlight before it hits the wall, the light will scatter and reflect off the wall more evenly. You will create a more *homogenous* light source that acts as a single entity of light.

Diffusion does reduce the overall intensity of the light, but that is usually a worthy trade off for the increased homogeny.

These pesky hotspots are actually a big problem with those cheap softboxes you can buy off Amazon.

Many of them do not have enough diffusion to create a single homogenous light source. So they end up with a hotspot that gives you that double light source effect.

I was able to fix this with my friend Katrina's softbox by adding a layer of tracing paper in front.

You can see the chip clip holding the tracing paper in place on the right side.

Photography is just problem solving all the way down.

A higher quality softbox will have a second layer of diffusion already built in to prevent this, so make sure the softbox has this feature before buying.

Or invest in a roll of tracing paper and some chip clips.

Softboxes are an ingenious light modifier when built properly. They take a small light, diffuse it, enlarge it, and then focus it toward your subject. It's essentially a paradox of scattered & focused light. And since all of the scattering only happens *inside* the softbox, it gives you great control over how that light hits your subject. And you can focus it even more by putting a grid on the front.

This keeps light from "spilling" off to the sides though it can reduce intensity a bit and create unusual looking catchlights in the eyes.

Whereas a cheap shoot-through umbrella kinda "shoots" scattered light all over the place and causes a ton of extra reflections off the walls and ceilings. That may end up giving you unwanted second, third, and fourth light sources contributing to your exposure.

You can see light hitting the left and right walls and the ceiling—those pesky photons are going everywhere! And while it is giving a soft, flattering result due to that umbrella being so freaking big, you have almost no control over the light and how it affects your background.

So, yes, a softbox can make a small light source bigger, but that doesn't always mean you will get "soft" light.

This softbox takes a 10 inch LED panel and creates a 12 inch light source. This is mostly a scam product.

The marketing says it makes the light softer.

And while that is *technically* true, I'm afraid people are going to be disappointed if they think this thing is going to dramatically soften their light. A small increase in surface area like that would only be dramatically different if you were lighting a little toy car or the hypothetical ant friend I mentioned earlier. Something the size of a person is not going to see a difference in softness. Not to mention you are going to decrease the power of your light by adding diffusion and have no softening benefits.

Photography gear companies love taking advantage of new photographers because the desire to buy more gear to improve the quality of photos is quite strong. This is jokingly referred to as G.A.S. or "Gear Acquisition Syndrome." And while there is absolutely gear you can buy to improve your photos (lights, lenses, tripods), knowledge trumps any piece of gear at any time.

So, no, this scam softbox will not make the light appreciably softer. The only way to make this light softer is to find a softbox that enlarges it more than 2 friggin' inches, bounce it off something larger, or bring it closer to the subject. Move your light as close as possible and you will enlarge its apparent size.

Or, conversely, you can move your light farther away to make it hard.

Meaning you can technically make a softbox a hardbox.

Seriously, can we just do the whammy box thing?

So, what have we learned?

Soft light is more flattering to skin and reduces texture and harsh shadows.

Hard light increases contrast, sharpens shadows, and highlights texture.

Neither is good or bad. Soft light can be boring. Hard light can be interesting. A mixture of the two often produces the best result.

The only way to make light softer is to enlarge the light source.

You can enlarge a light source by...

Increasing the physical dimensions with a modifier.

Moving the light closer.

Reflecting the light off a larger surface.

Diffusion alone does not make a light softer.

Diffusion makes a light source more homogenous by mitigating hotspots.

Softboxes create homogenous light that you can direct and focus.

A softbox can still produce hard light if it is really small or really far away.

We should call it a whammy box.

How can you use this knowledge?

Well, the first thing you can do is...

DON'T BUY A RING LIGHT.

YES, I AM RANTING ABOUT RING LIGHTS AGAIN!

That giant hole in the middle of your light is a great spot for extra light.

And as we just learned, a larger light source is softer. So unless you specifically need a ring light and know how to use it (facial close-ups, camera goes in the hole), you are better off getting the biggest light you can fit in your space.

Look at how much bigger this light is than if it were a ring light.

It's like all of these influencers are throwing perfectly good light into the garbage.

Sorry, let's try this again.

Once you avoid ring lights, how can you use this knowledge?

I know a lot of you reading this are not influencers or YouTubers or photographers. And you may be thinking all of this knowledge I just shoved in your dome is useless.

But here's the thing...

We all take photos.

And I think we all want our photos to look their best.

If you start thinking more about light when you take photos, I promise you will be able to improve their quality.

If you are taking a selfie, think about where you can go that has a larger light source. Perhaps you have a large window. Or you have a big overhead light or floor lamp that shines up into the ceiling.

I actually had this idea to create a mega light that could blend in with a house's decor, but secretly be a photography light for taking pictures of people and pets indoors at night.

Secret Photography Light Ingredients Cheap Floorlamp Dual Light Socket Adapter 9000 Lumen LED Bulbs

(Seriously, if you put that together, stick it in a corner, and turn it on when your kids or pets are playing, you will never have another blurry photo from inside your house unless they are going full zoomies.)

If you are outside on a sunny day, don't stand in direct sunlight.

Remember, THE SUN IS ACTUALLY SMALL, angularly speaking. Find a shady spot under a tree. Or put the sun behind you and face a big white wall so the reflected light smacks you in the face.

Walls are light sources!

The ground is a light source!

Remember that moon photo?

You were looking at the sharp shadow earlier because I drew your attention to the sun being a small light source.

But the surface of the moon... HUGE LIGHT SOURCE.

How do you think the front of that space suit is lit when the sun is behind him? Either Stanley Kubrick has a big reflector offscreen or the ground is a soft second light source.

If you can't make it to the moon, just wait to take that selfie on a cloudy day. I think overcast light is a little boring, but your skin will look buttery smooth without using those stupid Facetune apps.

You can also wait for good light. Sometimes sunset has some nice, soft directional light because it has more atmosphere to scatter, diffuse, and enlarge it.

If you are indoors, don't use direct flash on your phone. Never ever use direct flash if you can avoid it. But perhaps you are with friends and they all have phones too. Use one or more phones to bounce the flashlight off a nearby wall. Or open up a paper napkin and hold it just out of frame and shine light through it and diffuse it.

A piece of paper can even work!

Flashlight 3 feet away shining directly onto my face...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper a few inches in front of it...

Flashlight shining through a piece of paper 2 feet away that is just out of frame...

I started with a small light source.

I then made the light source a little bigger with the paper, but the diffusion was too close and it created the dreaded hotspot of doom.

And then I made the light source as big as I could by moving the paper as close to my face as possible without being in the shot. This also gave the light more room to scatter and diffuse making it homogenous.

Froggie Tip: I was using a pretty powerful flashlight, so with a phone you might get better results *bouncing* the light off the paper rather than shining the light through the paper.

So, before you take a photo, just think about how you can make your light source bigger, brighter, and more homogenous and you might be surprised how much better you look.

ANYONE CAN DO THIS!

[ellecdc]

Lexy!!! I've literally just thought of this so it might be awful, but I love the jegulus you've written and I think in most scenarios I see reader falling for James first because he's the more outgoing, ask-for-what-you-want type, but what if she first met regulus as a cat animagus? And she gets really attached to him, and he get really attached to her sweet-talking him all the time, and when eventually she gets to know him and James in-person he's just already so much more comfortable with her than he is with most people? Idk this could be a request if you like (but no pressure!) or just a ramble but I'd love your thoughts on it either way (again, if you feel like it!! no worries if not my love <3). Hope you're having a day as lovely as you are!

I don't write nearly enough for these two so I was more than happy to play around with this!! I think it also stems from Regulus being the type to (rather reluctantly) accept love than to pursue love, but after spending any amount of time with James, I could totally see him feeling capable of accepting it and perhaps giving it away too! so this was fun, thanks for the prompt, my love!!!!!

poly!jegulus x shy!reader who makes a little friend [2k words]

CW: fem!reader, reader is shy....I think that's it, OH reader thinks maybe people are making fun of her at one point but they're not so it's chill

Where James was all bravery (and a ceaseless amount of emphatic assertiveness), Regulus was cunning through and through. 

Was Regulus’ approach perhaps a bit understated? Sure. But was it also effective? Well, he certainly thought so. 

People like you required a softer approach; an approach James wasn’t well-practised in (nor well suited for). Someone as shy as you could handle James’ loud proclamations and brazen flirting even less than Regulus had.

Besides…they didn’t really have time for James’ approach, because if it took Regulus himself three years to come around to James’ advancements, well…they didn’t have three years. 

So, Regulus spent time with you the only way he knew he could that wouldn’t cause your shoulders to migrate to your ears or cause you to avoid eye contact with anyone within a 12 foot radius of yourself. As a cat.

As a very sleek and refined black cat with piercing grey eyes; what? Regulus wasn’t afraid to admit he was a particularly attractive little feline.

And you certainly didn’t seem to disagree.

“Oh there you are, sweetness!” You exclaimed as he trotted his way over to you; a little brrp escaping his mouth at the endearment rolling off your tongue so easily at the sight of him. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

Regulus spent some time rubbing along your shin and hip that he could reach thanks to the way you were currently seated with your back against an old oak tree. 

“Well aren’t you just so handsome, hm?” You cooed, and Regulus felt his heart thrum (or perhaps that was just the sensation of the dramatic purrs you were eliciting from his animagus form).

Regulus somehow found it far easier to give affection in this form; there was something far more vulnerable in offering Sirius a sincere hug, or even asking James to hold his hand than there was in stepping up onto your thigh with his little paws as he used his head to rub against your shoulder. 

That, and his feline form didn’t seem to get so caught up on such human feelings like vulnerability or abandonment issues.

“Such a sweet boy.” You murmured, rewarding him with chin scratches. “Where do you go after you say bye to me? Hm?” You asked him then, and Regulus actually found himself desperate to tell you. Desperate to say “I’m right here! I’m always here! I’m just usually accompanied by a great bumbling sod who is just as crazy about you as I am but is far less gracious about it!”

Regulus wondered then when he became the sort to admit to holding a flame for someone? Agreeing to go out with James had been a sort of relenting “oh shit, yeah, fuck, I’m sort of in love and wildly sexually attracted to my brother’s best friend, aren’t I? Damnit, well, alright then I guess.” 

But falling for you had been an active choice on Regulus’ part; he’d set up the playing field with strategic manoeuvres and expertly playing the hand he was dealt. He manipulated moments where he would get the chance to spend time with the unbridled you; the version of you perhaps only those closest to you ever got to see, and perhaps not even then.

The you that you were when you didn’t feel the need to perform for others. The you that you were when you were completely free to be yourself.

He hoped that the comfort and ease you found in his company like this would one day translate to comfort and ease in his company whilst in his human form, too.

It was official; Regulus had officially lost the plot. He’d become a lovesick fool and a complete sap planning moments for the two of you to meet and dreaming of the day he could tell you just how he felt.

He’d been spending too much time around Gryffindors, it was time to see a mind healer. 

You had been resting with your head back and face pointed towards the sky above you that was partially obstructed by the canopy of branches and leaves above you before you took a deep and definitive breath in. 

“It’s almost time for class, kitty.” You murmured softly, looking down at Regulus with a look of adoration and perhaps some regret that you had to leave his company. 

That’s sort of how Regulus imagined he and James looked every time you left the room, not that you’d ever noticed. 

But before Regulus could be particularly perturbed by that thought, you actually bent down and pressed a kiss to the space between Regulus’ ears. 

And with a grace and assuredness Regulus not often saw on you, you stood and headed towards the castle for your next class.

“Oh my Godric, she kissed you!” James squealed as he removed the invisibility cloak from his person.

Regulus let out a startled hiss and felt his tail poof up in an attempt to make him look far more intrepid than he actually was. 

“Awe, you’re so cute when you think you’re scary.” James cooed as he reached down to give Regulus a scritch only to be swatted away rather aggressively by his boyfriend.

“Regulus!” James chided as he held his hand protectively against his chest. “That was very rude.”

“There were no claws, you tosser.” Regulus muttered as he returned to his human form. “What were you even doing out here?”

James shrugged in nonchalance as he tilted his head up to the sky in much the same way you had but moments ago. “I was bored so checked the map to see where you were, and then saw you were here and wanted to see the magic in action.” 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t sneeze and blow the whole thing.” Regulus spat, though James was either ignorant to his boyfriends grumblings or choosing to ignore them.

“She’s so lovely, isn’t she?” 

Regulus hummed in agreement, ire quickly melting away as he looked longingly (like the lovesick sod he was) in the way you’d left.

As he moved to lean back against the tree beside James, his hand came into contact with something distinctly unnatural. 

“Oh?” He murmured as he pulled an open journal out from under him, the page currently resting on a beautiful sketch of…him?

“Merlin’s tits. Did she draw you?” James breathed out in disbelief as he pulled the journal closer to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous James.” Regulus chided as he tried to ignore the quickening of his heart. “That could be any cat.”

James hummed in clear disagreement as he adjusted his glasses. “‘I wish I could paint; there’s no way I can portray the beautiful grey of this cat's eyes’” He read from a small patch of scrawl beside the image with a little arrow pointing towards him.

“I think I just found our in, Jamie.” Regulus murmured quietly before looking at James with an arched eyebrow.

Yup, he’d definitely been spending too much time in the company of Gryffindors. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were fanning the tip of your quill against your lips as you stared off into space again. You couldn’t believe you lost your sketchbook. It wasn’t like you’d been drawing anything particularly crude or inappropriate, but somehow the thought of someone actually looking inside the little world you’d been building had you feeling naked. 

“Is this seat taken?” You heard from above you, causing you to straighten up so quickly that your knee met the bottom of the table with a painful thunk. 

It was Regulus who had asked the question, but it was James who asked “Shit, are you okay, love?”

“Sorry. No.” You mumbled quickly, face heating up to near painful temperatures. “Erm, I mean, no, that seat’s not taken, and sorry, I’m okay.” 

“You don’t have to apologise to me, angel, the victim was that poor knee of yours.” He continued as he took one of the two seats across from you, his furrowed brows pointed resolutely at the span of table you’d accosted moments ago. 

“What is it that you’re working on?” Regulus asked you then, nodding his head towards the blank parchment in front of you and the quill that had spent just about more time in your mouth than it had on paper. 

You felt your shoulders shrug nervously as you stared resolutely at the blank expanse before you. 

“Not much, it seems.” You admitted quietly. “I, erm, I’ve lost something recently.”

“Your sketchbook.” James and Regulus chorused, and you winced at the whiplash you nearly gave yourself in moving your gaze to them. 

“I…yes, my- how did you know I’ve lost it?”

Regulus shrugged calmly as he looked down at the table in front of you. “It’s odd seeing you without it, quite frankly.”

You hardly had a moment to feel horribly uncomfortable to realise that Regulus Black and James Potter had ever noticed anything about you before - let alone something that, for whatever, reason felt particularly sacred and personal to you - before Regulus pulled out your sketchbook from his bag. 

“You…had it?” You whispered, feeling disturbingly close to tears imagining this to be one of the Marauders pranks where they spent one evening flipping through the pages for a laugh.

“You forgot it…down by the oak tree on the grounds.” Regulus offered quietly as he carefully slid the closed book towards you. 

“We didn’t take it.” James added as if sensing your concern. 

“Did you look at it?” You asked quietly then; staring down at your long lost book now gripped tightly in your hand rather than at the two boys.

“Just one page.” James admitted as he shifted in his seat. “It was opened to that page when we found it.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Regulus began, “but I may have added something to the page we found it on.” 

You looked up at him expecting to see some devious or malicious smile gracing his face, but you were only met with a look far softer than you ever imagined possible on the young Black’s face. It looked…dare you say, hopeful? 

You looked back down at the sketchbook to see a little tab sticking out about ¾’s of the way through and opened it carefully.

The parchment crinkled and groaned as you opened the book; protesting as if it had been subjected to water or rain only to be completely dehydrated again. 

And inside, the sketch of the little feline companion you’d come to love had been transformed into a beautiful water painting, the tail charmed to swish back and forth every so often as its - now the perfect shade of grey - eyes blinked at you. 

“I thought the sketch to be beautiful, but you wanted it painted and I wanted to do that for you.” He admitted quietly; voice no higher than a whisper. 

“You got the eyes just right.” You murmured in awe before your eyes flit up to…a matching pair. “They’re your eyes.” You amended disbelievingly. 

Regulus simply smirked, though even that appeared soft.

You looked back and forth between the two boys, neither seeming to know quite what to say, but neither seeming particularly inclined to leave your company. 

You realised then that they’d been with you like this - in your company, that is - before.

You looked down at your sketchbook and began flipping through the pages before stopping at the one you were looking for and handing it to James. 

James accepted your book and held it as if it was something precious as he smiled down at the page.

It was a sketch of him laying on his back across one of the benches in the quidditch stands as he casually threw and caught a snitch - the snitch and his arm charmed to move. You hoped that wasn’t too creepy - having a drawing of him in your personal book - but you had been up there first before his friends came to hang around, and they hadn’t seemed particularly bothered by your company at the time.

“You’re very talented.” He said simply, and you felt your shoulders relax from the worry of him being uncomfortable. 

“Think you can paint that one, too?” You asked Regulus quietly, and you felt your heart stutter slightly when his face lit up into a beaming smile. 

“It’d be my honour, beautiful.” 

Oh gods…what did you just get yourself into?

[azul-marie]

— a touching of souls.

their kisses with you. fem. reader. suggestive. feat. bi-han, kuai, tomas, syzoth.

bi-han —

steady and sure, grabbing at your waist, wrapping a hand around your throat to keep you still as he indulges himself in your lips. although he is not the most affectionate man, bi-han has an exceptional fondness for kisses. perhaps it’s the breathless sounds you make, or the soft gasps in between his tongue — perhaps it is simply that he prefers you at his mercy, a pretty little thing caged beneath or within strong arms. typically at night, when the moon is high and all is silent, he allows himself to calm, to open before you and allow you to initiate. bi-han tends to lose himself in these moments all too easily, an annoyance at his expense. most times, without even trying, simple kisses from you lead to sleepless nights and sore bodies.

kuai liang —

ardent, unrestrained, grasping at hips and breasts and hair, unable to keep what little space remains between the two of you from heating up — figuratively, literally. his lin kuei ways may have taught him restraint, focus, but kuai’s hotheaded tendencies always get the best of him when it comes to you, only for you. his kisses trail like fire all across your body, his teeth leaving scorches in their wake, a tongue like that of flames licking at tender flesh until you melt like caramel in his hands. kuai is unrelentingly keen on smothering you with every bit of adoration he has; his lips alone are more than capable of proving it. you are a goddess worthy of worship, and he a devotee all too willing to bow down and serve, evermore shall his love burn for you.

tomas —

soft like daytime mist, cupping apples of cheeks, the tremble of fingers when his lips touch yours. he has little experience with romancing women, much less the gift of their kisses; you are his beginning, his end. it is precisely why tomas pecks, rather than lose himself to your lips, for a bashful nature keeps what eager will he has in check. his boyish charm only adds to the endearment, and often he finds you to be the one most content in initiating them. it’s a strange comfort, that you still pursue him despite his meeker approach to affection and love. assuring him that he is wanted sends his self-confidence soaring, and gradually does he ease into the idea of receiving and giving kisses on a more constant basis — privately, of course.

syzoth —

quick and light, flurries of kisses, all about your pretty face, your petalsoft lips, sometimes at those sensitive sweet spots across your décolletage if he’s feeling cheekier than usual. syzoth, fairly new to the concept of kissing with warm, wet mouths, tongue and teeth and all, hadn’t expected warm-blood affection to be so pleasant. he is cautious of physicality, having grown to live without its softer aspects for years prior to you, but kisses are easy, innocent enough to practice. you have made it this way for him, precious as you are. he kisses you hello, goodbye, as luck before either one of you leaves for calling duties, and simply when he feels like it, even if friends are around to witness and tease. he doesn’t mind them, as long as you don’t.

[rae-writes]

⊹ Candles [reversed] ⊹

since it's my birthday, I wanted to do a little special self-indulgence, so here's this! || 2.k || written with poly!Mc in mind + our son Luke

4 am 

Early in the morning, before the faux light has even spread across the Devildom, Mammon is in your bed. He’s pushed his way through your door, half asleep himself, stumbled over and climbed underneath your covers (that he swears are softer than his), and has pulled you into his arms. 

Every year, he insists on being the first person to wish you a Happy Birthday, and if not that, then the first who gets to tell you in person— so he's found that coming to your room before the day even begins gets him his title of ‘first’ and gives him alone time with you.

It’s much too early to be awake right now, so he’s content with falling back to sleep with you. His body is in complete contact with yours and he sleepily swears not to let go because he loves you too much. 

5 am 

An hour later, or maybe even less than, Asmo comes to sneak you from his brother’s grasp, gently hauling your barely conscious frame to his room. He wants you to keep getting as much beauty sleep as you can, but he still wants to start getting you ready for your big day! 

Of course, Azzy’s been planning this for weeks, so he has everything prepared and laid out. His alone time with you consists of him lowering you into the steaming bath and massaging you well, scrubbing your hair and body until you’re squeaky clean and practically shining, before toweling you off and dressing you in the clothes he’d set aside. 

Your skin care is done and your hair is fixed flawlessly, nails cut, filed, and painted; everything is all done up by the man himself and he tops it all off with excited kisses and pictures now that you’re [mostly] awake. 

6 am 

After you’re ready for the day, Lucifer takes over and hides you away in his study, selfishly holding you on his lap as you both drink coffee to get properly started. The drink is as bitter as ever, lips glossy with the remnants of it as you both chat quietly. 

He’s your soft start to the day, the calm before the lovable chaos, and the first born makes sure to whisper sweet words alongside the comforting crackle of the fireplace. His hour of alone time is lazy and physical, because he can’t go more than a few seconds without running his gloved hands over you. 

If anything, he’s unwilling to let you go, but Lucifer knows it would throw a wrench into the day’s layout and cause more fuss than necessary— plus, he has some things to do before tonight, so he’ll let you go with a slow kiss.

7 am

You’re handed over into Beelzebub’s capable hands, ensured to be served with a filling breakfast. He’s more than excited to show you what he, personally, cooked for you (even if there are just a few bites out of some of it). His cheeks are stuffed and a cute little smile is spread across his cheeks as he points to all the things on your plate. 

When  your plate is spotless, and your tummy is full but not too full, Beel guides you on a small little walk around the house corridors to make sure you digest properly. He’s still eating, of course, but his pleased hums are filling the air comfortably, making for a nice atmosphere. 

Your little walk ends at the entrance hall, where he bids you goodbye with a cozy little hug, and a promise that you’ll love every second of your special day.

8 am

With a hand at the small of your back, Satan leads you out of the house and straight to a bookstore, wanting to keep a slow start to the long day. With it having just opened, only the two of you and a few others are inside, giving plenty of room to stroll and browse (and goof around). 

He points out things you’ve had your eye on, new editions that weren’t there the previous visit, or special copies that were for limited time. The fourth born wants at least two books in your hand and a little collectible maybe- or a bookmark. Can’t have too many.

Once he’s spoiled you a little, and after you’ve both pet the local cats outside, he’s reluctantly handing you over with a lingering kiss to your hand, and a promise to read one of your books together soon.

9 am

Levi took his place, fingers lacing with yours, as he raved about a nearby anime store, gushing over the items he saw online that reminded him of you. By the time you get there, you know every section that’s going to be inside, yet it’s still exciting as you get pulled in. 

You both get lost in the cool merch, having to wave your hands over the stands or jump in place to find each other occasionally, but end up staying side by side for the most part, whisper-shouting with big smiles. 

Leaving the store, there is a pretty good sized bag on your and his arm, but he couldn’t be more thrilled about the lightness of his wallet since he got to spend money on you. He takes your bag, and your previous bag, in a promise to tuck them safely in your room, before giving you a location.

10 am 

Waiting for you outside of a small little amusement park is Diavolo, who is positively beaming in anticipation. He’s already got two colorful wristbands in hand, which he latches around your wrist, and lets you do the same to him, before heading inside. 

There are rides of all kinds and he lets you choose each one of them, pointing out ones he thinks you’ll like as you pass. You play a few booth games, getting a pretty flame salamander plushie as a prize, or totally failing and having a good laugh. 

His only request is the photo booth, which you both do two different times, to get a silly border and a normal border. He pouts a little as he walks you out, assuring you’d see him later, before leading you a few blocks back into the townsquare. 

11 am

For lunch, Simeon takes you off the paths and to a somewhat secluded gazebo, where a sweet little picnic was spread out; celestial realm dishes were rationed onto baby blue plates, two shiny cups on either side, with polished silverware. 

The breeze is just right as the two of you eat, chatting and sitting closer than usual. Butterflies go by, and your eyes follow, as you both take turns pointing out different kinds you see and what flowers they seem to like better. 

You take your time neatly packing everything up, fingers brushing and shoulders bumping, before he parts with a, dare you say it, angelic kiss to your forehead.

12 pm

Luke, naturally, is in charge of dessert, promising a light, yet satisfying, treat as he leads you down the sidewalk and into a cute looking bakery. He wants you to save room for the many things that were cooked and baked for your party, so he gets a little pile of oreo balls and other small things like that. 

He holds nothing back as he tells you how happy he is to be spending your birthday with you, how he’s so very glad he met you, and anything else along those lines. He has to get them all out now, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to later! 

The sweet angel is nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leads you to your next location, waving excitedly as he promises to help make your party one of a kind.

1 pm

You’re actually given to Raphael next, who’s standing outside of a library with that barely perceptible smile on his face. He explains that he wanted somewhere quiet and cozy to wind down with you, suggesting that you shouldn’t do too much before the big celebration. 

The very back corner of the library becomes yours for now, complete with a pretty view of swaying trees. The archangel almost shyly asks if you’d sit closer, loosely holding your hand as he begins reading to you. 

He stalls a bit at the end, toying with your fingers, before telling you that he’ll see you later…but he’d like to do this again, sometime, okay?

2 pm

Hocus Pocus becomes your next destination, Solomon wasting no time in wrapping an arm around you as you browse the store. It’s slow and unhurried and drawn out as he talks about certain items, explaining a few origins, and listens to how your day’s been so far. 

He dabbles a bit in glittery, washable, body paint, joyously painting random shapes onto your skin (even rolling his sleeves up so you could return the  favor). The sorcerer makes it a point to paint his name along your wrist, taking a picture of it, before helping you wash it all off. 

With a quick spell, he takes away any aching your feet might have, or any sort of headache, teasingly kissing at your jaw, before wagging his fingers as he teleports you somewhere new. 

3 pm

A familiar shade of gold greets you as you're sent sprawling out onto the Castle’s floors. Barbatos chuckles and chides Solomon’s delivery as he helps you up, dusting you off gently. He makes sure you’re alright, boldly carrying you anyway, regardless of your answer.

A soothing, palate cleansing, tea spread is set out on the table as he settles you into the chair, pouring it as delicately as ever, before joining you. Instead of adjacent, he sits beside you, eagerly listening to anything you have to say. 

He may or may not cheat time, prolonging his alone time with you just a little, unwilling to let you go now that you both finally have a minute together. He does have much to get done still, however, and with a [deep] kiss, he politely escorts you through one of his portals. 

4 pm

In the heart of the forest, amongst a wave of flowers, lies Belphie. He’s not asleep, but it’s clear he’s just woken up, as he gestures for you to come lay down, offering a peaceful break. 

Instead of star gazing like usual, he settles for cloud gazing, lazily pointing up and whispering descriptions here and there. It’s serene and quiet and, in his opinion, the perfect way to kill time. 

While he doesn’t want to get up, he does at least hug you and nuzzle close in a send off, watching you go, before flopping back down.

5 pm

Mephisto is more than ready, and honored, to be the one escorting you to your big birthday bash. He takes you on the long path through the forest, deciding that if the others got time alone, surely he could have his own slot, too. 

He keeps close, talking about daily matters, continuing to take small detours as you both make your way through the Devildom. His eyes don’t leave your face much at all as he basks in the moment. 

With a grand, flourishing gesture, he officially announces your arrival, and presents you to your birthday party!

6 pm

Confetti, balloons, changing led lights, and glitter are everywhere. There’s a long table with many presents littering the surface, and another one next to it with small party snacks and desserts. Music plays faint in the background, not really needed over the fun and chaos that comes from the party games picked out, or from the karaoke. 

When the time comes, a cake as astonishing as the previous ones is brought out and magically lit up prettily. Voices harmonize as they all sing you happy birthday , none being able to fight the smile on their faces, but…you couldn’t either. 

And as you circled around the cake, blowing out each of your candles, you wished for what you did every year since coming here: to always be able to stay with your boys. 

With cake and presents over, it delves into more chaos as they all argue over a) who you’re going home with tonight (and that it would be no fair if Mephisto took you, since he’d have you alone), and b) if you went home with a group, who’s room you would be staying in (Solomon taunted Mammon so much, you swore he’d blow a gasket). 

Oh, yeah. You loved them to death.

[hotheadedhero]

Reacting to pregnant S/O

And how they tell everyone

2003 Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

At first, he stares at you in silent disbelief before holding you close with all the joy in the world. He couldn't be happier. He's going to follow in his father's footsteps and teach them everything he knows. In fact, Splinter is the first person he tells, followed quickly by his brothers.

When the celebrations settle down, it suddenly dawns on him just how much he needs to prepare himself for this great responsibility. He already bears a heavy toll being the leader of his brothers and your protector but this? This will be a true test of accountability and he hopes that he will be strong enough to make sure nothing bad happens.

Yes. He's going to make sure he does everything in his power to ensure you two remain safe.

Raphael

Don't tell his brothers but he cries a little. How could he not? He already counts his blessings every day knowing you're his, so this is like the cherry on an already amazing cake. The entire family is gathered in the lounge, wanting them all to hear this news at the same time.

He starts to worry that his touch isn't gentle enough and that he could hurt the baby when they're born. It takes a lot of assurance on your end but his concern is incredibly sweet. You're in safe hands that are softer than he gives himself credit for and you know the baby is, too.

The nickname 'Mama' has now been officially upgraded to 'Baby Mama' and you are not complaining one bit.

Donatello

Astounded. Fascinated. In complete and utter awe over the fact that a tiny person is now growing inside of you. You can bet he drops every other project to look into this immediately. He always goes one-hundred and ten percent into his research, so you know you're in capable hands.

Everyone else finds out a few hours later when they stumble across him in his lab with notes strung up along the walls on how to best take care of the baby before and after labour. You do wish he'd calm down a bit but you put it down to his nerves and excitement.

This baby might just be his best invention yet and with the help of his most loving partner, no less.

Michelangelo

You aren't sure you've ever seen him exhibit such glee before. He is absolutely over the moon! There isn't a chance to figure out how you two break the news to the family because his reaction does that for you. He. Tells. Everyone! He will skate through the sewers and scream past every manhole cover and pipe that he's going to be a dad.

When he finally returns, he swoops you up and babbles about all of the fun things he's going to do with the baby. Read them comic books before bed, teach them how to skateboard, play pranks on Uncle Raph! You'll have to apologise to the red-clad turtle later.

Haha! He has his own little accomplice for his shenanigans, now.

As for Splinter in all of this, the prospect of becoming a grandfather is monumental. This family was already an unexpected surprise for him all those years ago but he couldn't feel more lucky knowing that it's about to expand. He's ready to bestow his wisdom onto more young minds.

[wolvieswhiskeyclaws]

"Savior" ||

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Rating: None

Length: 2.1k

Asked by: @photo1030

Ooo! Random thought, maybe can link to my last request. Reader (or character, your choice) gets hurt and Arthur has to take care of them. Maybe shot in the leg and he has to carry them. They get to see a softer side to him, being all caretaker and protective.

Protective Arthur is just... *chef's kiss* I can't explain it but seeing him so good with a gun, being able to down someone within seconds then to turn around and be so gentle with you?? I need it, crave it, even. Thanks for the ask, hon!~

*

It was supposed to be a simple bank coach robbery, just a quick in-and-out sort of situation, and you insisted that you go along to assist Mary-Beth and Sean, but with Arthur being as worried as he always was, he felt it was best to tag along and make sure Sean didn’t pull you into any other mischief. The Irishman, of course, took offense to that, but he didn’t exactly mind that you two wanted to tag along. The more the merrier, even if the cut of the pay was less.

As much as Arthur tried to insist you remain back, you were headstrong and refused to let him tell you what you were capable of. You’d had a successful string of heists you were able to pull off with the other gang members, so why would this one be any different? Without much argument afterward, you rode off on your horse behind Sean and Mary-Beth, and a disgruntled Arthur followed you all from the rear. 

It was difficult to put into words how this made Arthur feel, but he knew that going along to assist would have eased his discomfort, and hearing Sean’s plan to distract the coach was more than entertainment in itself. But with Sean being inept with firearms, Arthur had ridden alongside your horse to listen in on the plan. 

Mary-Beth was more than excited to get out of the camp and put her talent to good use, and even more so when you had offered to tag along if they wouldn’t mind. “Oh, this is excitin’!” She exclaimed with a large smile on her face. “Easy enough to flag ‘em down, I think.”

Sean was proud of his idea and felt that he should have had more credit, but Arthur, being who he was, was unsure and unimpressed with Sean’s usefulness when it came to stressful situations. 

“I’m just keepin’ an eye on you, MacGuire, I know they’re solid,” he stated matter-of-factly as his horse trotted along to the speed of Ennis. 

“Alright, alright, you get knocked out on a mission one time-”

“More than once,” Arthur corrected. 

The Irishman just scoffed and shook his head. “Look, you can write about it in your journals, but let’s get back to my job, the one I brought y’all in on!” He huffed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how much those two men were always at each other’s throats, no matter what the other was doing. “Let’s focus, gentleman, the lady and I will have this done lickety-split, it’ll be a cakewalk.” You looked over at Arthur with confidence shining in your eyes, and you thought you caught a glimpse of a smile from across his face, but it was gone before you could blink. 

Sean led the way until they came to a crossroads, then he told you all to keep the horses out of sight as he scoped out where they could hide for the time being. “Alright then, here we are, they’ll be comin’ from the North any minute, you both know what you’re doin’, right?”

Arthur just scoffed and shook his head. “Course they know what they’re doin’,” he replied gruffly.

You jumped down from your horse and patted its muzzle gently. “Mary-Beth is gonna run out and flag ‘em down, I’ll be off a ways to scope out the guards, and you two will be behind the log. Sean will ring off some shots, and Arthur will come in and clean up while I pick ‘em off from behind. Easy.”

Sean looked satisfied with that response and nodded. “Alright, perfect! Now, Morgan, let’s go and get behind this log, you-” he pointed in your direction, “-get over to those trees and don’t be spotted. Mary-Beth, get ready.”

The redhead felt proud of this plan, he was sure everything would work out, and he had the details down to a T. Everything went fine until it didn’t.

Instead of spooking the guards to throw them off, Sean took aim after hearing the way one of the men spoke to Mary-Beth and scoped him from his spot behind the log. Arthur immediately began to fire, albeit reluctantly since Sean was deviating from the initial plan. He hadn’t caught sight of you yet, but he figured you were doing alright for yourself. Then suddenly, a man lunged for Mary-Beth and held a gun to her head, his arm clenched around her throat.

“Let GO of me!” She snapped, trying her best to claw at his arm.

“Got your little lady friend here! Drop your guns!”

Arthur removed his rolling block rifle and watched the man hide himself behind the woman through the scope. “Dammit, he keeps movin’, don’t got a clear shot.”

“I got it!” You suddenly yelled out, and before you had a chance to line up the shot, the man had heard you and took aim. The shot rang out and the bullet penetrated your upper thigh. 

Your scream echoed out and Arthur finally had a clear shot to take the man down for good. “Sean, get Mary-Beth! I got them!” He said as he threw the gun over his shoulder and took off running where you’d fallen to the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled to himself as he finally caught up to you. 

You were trying your best to hold onto your leg the best you could to apply pressure, but it didn’t help much, you couldn’t stifle the scream you released when it hurt a little too much. “Shit, guess I messed that up badly…”

“Nah, you didn’t, lemme see,” Arthur said as he moved your hands, checking out where the wound was. “Ah, right through the meat of the leg but just missed your femoral artery. You’ll be alright, just gotta treat it when we get to camp. C’mon, it ain’t gonna feel pretty.” 

Arthur grabbed his bandana and tied it around your leg the best he could to keep pressure, then he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to his horse. 

Sean and Mary-Beth had cleaned out the coach and the dead men’s pockets as he took care of you, but Mary-Beth felt awful. “Are they gonna be alright?” She asked, her tone laced with worry. 

He just nodded and helped you as carefully as he could onto his horse, but the discomfort was a lot, yet you remained as strong as you could and held onto the horn of the saddle. “Call my horse, please…” You whimpered. “Can’t leave ‘em here…”

“You worry ‘bout yourself, your horse’ll be fine,” the gunslinger assured you as he hopped on behind you. “It’s gonna hurt with the ride but the faster we get back the better. Y’all go on, we’ll split the money when we meet back, don’t let anyone follow you.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Sean said with a meek smile, feeling awful you’d been hurt. “Take care of ‘em, will ya?” 

Arthur nodded in response, whistled for your horse to follow, and rode off as quickly as he could. The ride was definitely painful, but you managed to hold out long enough until you got back to camp, where Arthur had taken you to your tent, which thankfully had some privacy. He left you alone for all of two minutes when he came back with all the necessities he needed to fix you up proper. 

You lay there on your cot, and as you tried to look up at him to speak, all you could do was groan in pain until he placed his hand gently on the back of your neck, having you sit up slightly. “Here, take a shot of whiskey, it’ll help a bit. I gotta dig the bullet out and cauterize the wound.”

After hearing all that and swallowing the burning liquid, your consciousness was in and out, very hazy, until you saw black and just heard the sound of Arthur’s voice. 

Hours later, you awoke with a dry hoarseness in your throat, your eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the low lamplight that had been inside your tent, and you looked up to see Arthur beside your cot. He already reached for the deerskin and placed it to your lips. You drank greedily at the water until you felt satisfied enough to pull away, coughing from the coldness. 

“There you are,” Arthur greeted softly, removing the deerskin from your grasp. “You’re gonna be fine, just gotta stay off the leg for a while,” he commented. “You feelin’ alright?” He leaned over and dunked a cloth into a bucket of water, then wring it out, and placed it gently over your forehead. 

You looked over at him and smiled softly. “Didn’t know you were so caring,” you joked softly, chuckling to yourself. 

Arthur waved his hand dismissively and scoffed. “Had my fair share of bullets is all, makin’ sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again, you hear?” 

You nodded and a small smile crept across your face, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and admire the man. He acted as if he didn’t care much about others, that he wasn’t any better than a stone-cold killer, but here he was worrying about you and taking care of you. Usually, it was left up to one of the women who were more well-versed in bedside manner, like Miss Grimshaw, but Arthur had insisted on your behalf. Naturally, he didn’t tell you this, it was Mary-Beth who informed you when she came in to visit while Arthur had gone to refill the bucket and grab some more medical supplies from Strauss’s wagon.

“Oh it’s been real sweet, he ain’t left unless he needed to get somethin’ for you,” Mary-Beth beamed. “Almost like somethin’ straight out of one of my books, he’s been real particular, too.”

“Of what?” You questioned.

“He hasn’t let anyone other than me and Tilly into your tent, even was on edge when Charles offered to help.” 

This information made your cheeks feel warm, he was practically babying you back to health, you’d never seen this side of him before. “Wow, I would have never expected Arthur Morgan to be at my bed-side,” you teased as you looked up at the young woman. 

She nodded, still all smiles. “Well, I hear him comin’ so that’s my cue, better leave you to it or else he’ll kick me out,” she joked and stood up from the chair. “You feel better, and holler if you need anythin’ from us.”

“Thanks, Mary-Beth.”

She nodded her head and left the tent, then was quickly replaced by Arthur, who set the bucket down beside his chair and had a bowl of stew in the other hand. “You think you can eat yet?”

You hummed in response and wet your dry lips with your tongue. “I can try if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would, now here,” he offered as he slowly placed his hand beneath your shoulders, giving you a little push to help you sit up.

“Heard you’ve been fussin’ over me since we got back, that true?”

Arthur sighed, knowing damn well Mary-Beth was going to say something to you at some point. “It ain’t a big deal, no big drama,” he waved it off. “Just makin’ sure you’re gonna be okay, which you are, by the way.” He held the bowl until you were ready to take it and try to feed yourself, but still leaned forward in case he needed to grab it from you. “Just rest up and you’ll be right as rain soon enough.” You grabbed the bowl and smiled over at Arthur, the adoration in your eyes quite apparent. “Arthur… thank you, I know you’re gonna think it’s no big deal, but it is to me. Couldn’t have made it without you,” you remarked. “I owe you-”

“You don’t owe me nothin’, well, except maybe one thing.”

Your head perked up and you offered him a smile. “Anything.”

With that, his mouth curled into a wide smile, thoughts running through his head as if he could have said so many things, but those thoughts would be shared later. For now, he figured he should settle on the obvious. “Promise me next time you ain’t gonna go runnin’ with MacGuire, you need a job done, you ask me.” He sat back in the chair and offered a lopsided grin. 

Thankfully you didn’t bring the spoon up to your mouth; you’d laughed and almost dropped the bowl. “Sure thing, Arthur, anything for you.” Your eyes locked with his and you couldn’t help but feel like you owed him more than that, but for now, you owed him to get better and listen for once. You’d show him how grateful you were when you could use your leg again. 

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks again,” you said softly. 

The man just chuckled and lit up a cigarette after getting your permission. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader 

Content : tenderness, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle, jealousy 

Word Count : 1.7k

Plot Summary : Out at a quirky themed bar with the team, Jamie approaches the reader to apologize for what he deems as dickish behavior. Flirty words turn to a tender moment, but the reader doesn’t realize someone else is pining after her. 

A/N : This was a fun piece to write! Still on my Jamie Tartt bs, bc I love him so much. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy it, and let me know if you would possibly want a part 2??

Music drifted through the speakers in the tiny, hokey, Southern American themed bar, and you sighed, eyeing Ted and Beard singing along jovially. You took a sip of your sickeningly sweet sweet tea, just the way you liked it. You had come along to London with Ted and Beard to continue your job as their personal assistant. Let’s face it, they needed help keeping up with everything that needed to be kept track of, and you were the one for the job. Sure, you were younger, but you had proven yourself a capable office manager back in Kansas. 

Your view of the two men was obstructed by another, admittedly more handsome man. Jamie. Your breath hitches slightly, and you cover it with another sip of your drink. You had grown a friendship with the young player, and considered him someone you could go to for anything and everything. What Jamie didn’t know, however, is that you had deep feelings for him, and care about him more than anyone else. 

“Hi Jamie!” You chirp, setting your empty drink glass on the bar. Jamie peers at you, looking at the drink you had sat down. You rarely drank alcohol, so this was a rare form for you. You follow his gaze, snorting slightly. “It’s sweet tea, no alcohol. What brings you to my dingy little corner of the bar?” You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, feigning needing to hear him better. 

“I came to apologize.” He says, his lips close enough to brush your ear. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together out of concern. 

“Apologize for what?” You ask, going through every interaction you had with him recently, coming up short. “You’re worrying me, Jamie.” You say, studying his face. 

“I feel like I’ve been a prick lately, and I’m sorry. I’ve been stressed about the Man City game, and you know me dad-”

You hold up a hand to stop him. “Jamie, you haven’t been a dick to me at all, ok? I get that you’re stressed, and your dad sucks. But you haven’t been any less kind to me than you’ve always been.” The hand you held up moves to squeeze his hand. 

“You’re too good for me, love.” He says back, lifting your hand to his and kissing your knuckles slightly. You try to pretend that your heart didn’t skip a beat, and you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Please. You flatter me.” You wave your hand away, as if to say he needn’t mention it, that’s what friends are for. 

But Jamie moves closer to you, your torsos almost pressing into each other. In this dingy bar, the low light accentuates Jamie’s handsome features, and you gaze up at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“I really mean it. Even when I was bein’ a little prick all the time when you and Ted and Beard first got to Richmond, you were nothin’ but nice to me.” He shrugs. “And I never thanked you.” 

“You really don’t have to thank me, I’m glad I forced you to be my friend.” You flash a grin at him, which makes him laugh, looking away from you slightly while he absorbs your presence. When his gaze finds yours again, it’s considerably softer. 

“Darlin’, I was putty in your hands the first time you bossed me around.” You snort incredulously, and he laughs. “I was. You got on me arse about being on time and it kicked me into gear.” 

“You were stressing Ted out, and a stressed out Ted is a stressed out assistant.” You confirm. “Jamie.” You say, looking at him. “Did you really come to seek me out just to tell me you’re glad I yelled at you the first week we met?” 

“Of course not. I needed an excuse to come talk t’you.” He murmurs, absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You never need an excuse to be near me.” You breathe out, and you’re faintly aware of a slow, sweet country song playing in the background. You clear your throat, drawing back slightly from him, “I love this song,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to change the subject at hand. 

"You're as smooth, as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine..." the old jukebox plays, and you close your eyes a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond, he takes your hand delicately and leads you to the small dance floor. Your heart pounds, wondering what this change in Jamie is all about. Of course, the two of you were friends. But he had never been so tender with you. You were usually the one giving hugs, patting hands, brushing hair away…did he actually mean to be this sweet and touchy-feely with you? Or was he drunk? Jamie draws you close, holding one of your hands to his chest while the other wraps around your waist. He rests his head against yours and murmurs something you can’t quite hear. 

“Hm?” You manage to squeak out, a little more high pitched than you meant to be. 

“I said, I always want to be near you. I know you only think of me as a friend, and I get it, but I wanted you…”He clears his throat, “wanted you to know.” He finishes. 

You pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I only think of you as a friend?” You say softly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t.” 

Jamie knits his brows together. “You don’t?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No! Why would you think that?” You look into his eyes again, and the sight of you making eye contact seems to instantly soften his gaze again. 

“Because you’re…well, you.” He says. “Always seemed too busy to get involved with an athlete, not to mention one that you’re friends with.” 

“I must be good at hiding the fact that I am desperately drawn to you, then.” You say, causing Jamie to smile and press a kiss to your temple. “Jamie.” You say. 

“Yea?” He responds, rocking the two of you gently to the music. 

“Kiss me.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Keeping a hold of your hand pressed to his chest, Jamie draws his face back to look at you. When he sees that you’re being serious, he presses his lips to yours. Slow, sweet, longing. You bring your free hand up to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and when he breaks the kiss, you keep it there. It’s intimate, familiar. 

Jamie pulls you close again, resting his head against yours. “I guess this makes us more’n friends, yea?” He whispers in your ear. 

You laugh, nodding along. “I guess so.” You reply, blushing happily as the two of you danced in the low light. 

“Good luck gettin’ rid of me, love.” He says playfully, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh. 

A low growl escaped the burly man’s lips as he watched Tartt slowly spin you on the dancefloor.

You seemed to be deep in conversation, and he feels Ted and Beard both looking at him. 

He sighs, setting the beer bottle in his hand down on the bar with a clink signalling the cowboy hat clad bartender to swap it out with a fresh, full one. 

“I heard a growl there, Roy.” Says Ted, who then looks over Roy to catch Beard’s attention. “What’s got this one more riled than a junkyard dog, Coach?” Beard jerks his head towards you and Jamie, swaying slightly to the music, and Ted breaks into a smile. 

“Well hey, isn’t that nice?” Ted says, earning a glare from Roy. “By that look I’m collecting that you don’t think that’s nice.” He states. 

Roy just grunts again in response, lifting his bottle to his lips, his eyes watching you. 

Beard shrugs. “Seems like you might have a crush.” 

Ted nods knowingly. “Well, I could have told you that, Beard. You seen the way Roy looks at her when she comes into our office? Like she’s the sun, I’m telling ya.” 

“Oi, shut it, you two.” Roy interjects, “and don’t pretend I can’t see the sly look the two of you are about to give each other. I’m not in denial about it.” 

Ted and Beard look at Roy, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Rushing him would just get them a “fuck off!”. So they had learned to wait. 

“The thing is- I know she’s special. And clearly Jamie does too. Clearly we have the same taste in women.” Roy grunts as he watches Jamie pull away to look you in the eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying not to appear more jealous than he already was. “She’s just…she’s great. And I like her, okay?” 

Ted and Beard exchange another look and Ted clears his throat slightly. “Listen Roy, we know she’s great. Wouldn’t know which way was up without her, but maybe you should actually try talking to her if you want her to like you.” 

“How do you mean? I talk to her!” Roy says indignantly. 

“Grunting in response to questions she asks you isn’t considered talking to her.” Beard chimes in, Ted nodding along and pointing to his long time friend. 

Roy isn’t listening though. He’s watching Jamie lean in and kiss you, your hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like everything stopped. He didn’t realize just how much he liked you until he saw you happy with someone else. Thinking that should be him. And that made him feel like an utter prick. 

“Fuuuuuccckkkkk.” He groaned. This was not good. 

[curekibouka-writing]

Analyzing the lullaby motif in book 7 (+translation of lyrics)

MAJOR SPOILERS for book 7 chapter 1-5

I hope everyone remembers the lullaby Malleus sang for everyone when he overblotted because that motif came back FOUR times in chapter 5 and I am going to analyze them all because they make me way too emotional 😭

Please feel free to find the lullaby motifs in this post and this post if necessary (although one of them is not included).

Translated lyrics of the lullaby:

A warm cradle

Starlight and joy

My eyes are watching over you still, let's be together

With no fear, even if we wake from this dream

Sleep, sleep, my beloved child

In dreams, I pray you would be guided to walk toward the light

(Analysis begins under the cut:)

The melody of the lullaby has been used 5 times at least in the story, they include:

When Malleus hummed it to everyone he put to sleep during his OB

When Meleanor sang it to Malleus

When Lilia sang it to Silver

When Malleus sang it to Silver

In the bgm when Sebek was helping come out of the darkness

The themes of this piece of music are love and farewell.

Motif use 2 is chronologically when the lullaby was first sung, it’s a song of love from a mother to her child when she knows they must part. I believe that when Meleanor sang this lullaby, she had already made up her mind to fight and let her guards escape with her child. She was taking the last moments she had with her child to name him "Malleus" and sing him this lullaby (7-75). Lyrics include sth like “I will be watching over you even if we wake up from this dream” and “may you be guided and walk towards the light”. But the beauty that comes with the theme of farewell is the theme of legacy. Because even though Meleanor is now gone, her song, and thus her love, never died.

Because Lilia remembers it. Motif 3 is Lilia singing it to Silver, and he’s also sung it to Malleus before. In a musical story, even if the characters lie or don’t have perfect information, the music never lies. Even if Lilia once doubted whether he could love Malleus and hatch him properly (7-77), and even if Lilia may still doubt whether he could love Silver, a human, properly (7-81), the motif symbolises love which tells us the truth — Lilia is capable of giving love. And the legacy is not just that Lilia passed the song to Malleus, it’s that Lilia internalized the song and sang it to his own son. He has seen what kind of mother Meleanor was, and he’s learnt from her kindness, her pride, her love and he has put that into how he raise his own child. Lilia has Meleanor’s legacy too.

And then to address the two Malleus motifs. First of all Malleus never sings it with lyrics, which would imply Malleus himself doesn’t fully know the true meaning of the song. However, he knows that he’s felt happiness and protection from hearing this song, so he sings it to Silver when Lilia asks him to as motif 4 (7-81). When he sang it to Silver he sounded confused, it must’ve been a long time since he’s heard the song. But he still remembers it, which means Meleanor’s love never died because Malleus remembers it all the same. It’s still in Malleus. It’s still there.

But when Malleus overblots, the song gets twisted a little bit (motif 1). However, in Malleus’s mind, it’s still a song of happiness and protection, because he overblotted trying to protect everyone’s happiness forever. But the music sounds creepy to show you the true nature of the song is not like this. The nature of the song is that "even though I cannot be with you always, I will still love you and wish for your happiness". This is the part that Malleus did not understand and did not cope with. It’s also interesting to note that Malleus sang motif 1 with a smile and no hesitation, he was completely confident and sure in what he was doing. Meanwhile, in all other three sung versions, each singer had their own different emotions in their singing, and those emotions were a lot softer, a lot less certain.

And the fifth and final use of the motif is used in the bgm when Sebek yells at Silver for him to get a grip (7-86). The song is arranged into a victorious piece with certainty and assurance. The use of the motif reminds us of the themes: love and legacy. It calls attention to these themes and entrenchs the truth that Silver IS Lilia’s legacy, and that’s only possible because of the love that Lilia has given him. The exact part where the bgm starts playing was when Silver said "Even in the darkness, I could always hear it. 'Stand up' 'Don't give in' 'Live'... it's father's voice. [...] All that he taught me, that's the proof that he had loved me. It's not a dream and not an illusion... it's true love." (I'm serious he really said "true love" for real this IS a translation T^T). When Silver saw Lilia's memories of the song, he denied the love, he said he should not deserve it. The motif had to come back because this is the moment when Silver can finally realize “Ah. This song is full of love and father sang it for me.” The motif HAD to come back because Silver has to come to accept it.

But the bgm arrangement is also made for Sebek. The bgm is full of certainty because Sebek has no doubts in what he’s telling Silver. Sebek, who has grown up alongside Silver, has witness all the love between Lilia and Silver. He KNOWS Lilia’s love is true and he’s conveying that to Silver with certainty. This bgm summarises what Sebek was doing so well, Sebek sees the love Lilia has for Silver and was literally blasting it in Silver’s ears.

As Disney's Sleeping Beauty (1959) puts it, "true love conquers all". And we've been shown that there's love in every direction among our Diasomnia found family. Let's hope that, soon enough, Silver and Sebek would wake Lilia up, and they can finally show Malleus the true meaning of his mother's lullaby and the wish she entrusted to it — that he would walk towards the light, even if she cannot be the one guiding him...

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

day 13: draco’s slytherin attitude

pair: Draco Malfoy x reader

summary: Draco's blood purity beliefs get him into an argument with his girlfriend, y/n(she/her)

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You had always known Draco’s views on blood purity, even before you began dating. Growing up in a Muggle-born household meant you'd heard all about the Malfoys, their ancient bloodlines, and their disdain for those without magical heritage. But you never expected it to come between you—especially not now, when you’d spent so much time together, building something special.

It starts innocently enough, a casual conversation in the Slytherin common room. You’re talking about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and Draco’s tone is sharp as he dismisses them as another “weak half-blood who doesn’t deserve the position.” His words sting, and you can’t hide the flicker of hurt that crosses your face.

“Draco,” you start quietly, trying to keep the peace, “you don’t really believe that, do you?”

His eyes flash with annoyance. “Believe what?”

“That someone’s blood status makes them less capable. Less worthy.”

He sits up straighter, his posture rigid. “I’m just stating facts, Y/N. It’s the way things are. Blood matters.”

You feel the anger rising in your chest. “It shouldn’t. You know I’m Muggle-born, right? Or does that make me less to you too?��

Draco’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath it—uncertainty, maybe even guilt. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and the silence between you grows heavy.

“You’re different,” he finally says, his voice softer now but no less certain. “You’re not like the others.”

“That’s not good enough, Draco,” you snap, standing up. “I won’t just accept that you think you're better than me—better than anyone—because of something as meaningless as blood.”

He stands too, his frustration evident. “It’s not meaningless! It’s tradition, it’s—” He breaks off, running a hand through his hair. “It’s what I’ve always known.”

“And maybe that’s the problem,” you reply, your voice shaking with emotion. “Maybe you need to realize that you’ve been wrong all along.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to fight back, throw out more sharp words, but instead, his shoulders slump. He looks at you, his eyes conflicted, torn between what he’s been taught and what he feels for you. You wonder if this is the moment he’ll finally change, if he’ll finally see that there’s more to the world than the narrow views he’s clung to for so long.

But you’re not sure if he’s ready yet. You don’t know if he ever will be.

“You’re asking me to forget everything,” Draco says quietly, almost pleading.

“I’m asking you to see people for who they really are,” you whisper. “To see me.”

Draco stares at you for a long moment, and you can see the battle raging inside him. You only hope that, in the end, love will outweigh the prejudices he’s carried for so long.

[longlostzoldyck]

peach

✦ tengen uzui x f!reader

✦ 3k words, minors dni

✦ warnings/ tags: smut, slight angst, discussion of body insecurities, plus size! reader, fingering, head (f receiving), p in v, excessive use of pet names, slight dumbification

✦ summary: tengen comforts you when you're having issues with body insecurities

✦ notes: can't believe i've been writing this on and off for a year and i finally finished it. hope i can force myself to write and post soon again. just know i'm trying my best xx thea

m.list

today was supposed to be a perfect day. tengen had gotten you this beautiful light pink lingerie set, paired with white garters and stockings for valentine's day and you had been dying to wear it but hadn't found the perfect occasion... until this morning.

tengen would be off for the day, having to spend most of his day training even when he was back home. this was perfect for you though. you'd have the morning to sleep in and then get all dolled up for your loving husband only for him to return and unwrap his present.

however, what was supposed to be a perfect day was quickly ruined when you tried on your new lingerie, fidgeting with the bra and pantie. you sigh, your eyes glued to your tummy on full display, hanging slightly over the white trim of your lacy pink underwear.

you pinch the skin wishing it away with a simple tug then flicking your eyes to your thighs and arms drooping at your sides. you try your best to readjust yourself in the beautiful underwear which made you feel like you could only pale in comparison. your eyes keep flicking between your stomach, thighs, and arms slowly shrinking in the mirror before you. before you know it there are tears running down your cheeks and neck.

as soon as tengen returned home, he was calling your name, expecting you to giddily jump down the stairs to welcome him home. his smile quickly turned into a frown though as more time passed and he still found himself waiting.

he finally makes his way upstairs, calling your name softer now, fearing he might have caught you napping. he didn't find you in your bedroom though and now he was sure something was wrong. he could have heard your sniffling even without his increased hearing, but it makes him launch himself to your side needing to protect you from whatever had done you any harm.

he finds you in your shared closet, knees to your chest and backed against a wall. he could sense no sign of danger, but knows you were in some kind of pain. you were crying. something has to be wrong.

"peach, i'm here," tengen's tone comes out barely above a whisper as to not startle you. you flick your eyes up to meet his, shocked he was inches from you. you didn't even hear him arrive, much less notice him enter the room. "tell me what's wrong, my love."

he pushes back some of your hair back softly then cleaning the stray tears still littering your cheeks. you instantly retreat back into your body hiding your face back between your knees. he, however, pulls you into his chest wrapping his arms around you, holding you in his tight embrace as you sniffle into his shirt slowly calming down your breathing.

"i'm sorry, my love. this wasn't how today was supposed to go," before you could even finish your apology, tengen is already having none of it.

"no apologies. just breathe for me, darling, and you can tell me what's wrong," he cooes, rubbing your arm softly grounding you back to reality as you clean your face over and over again.

you sit together in silence for a moment as you slowly compose yourself, taking deep breaths and focusing on his touch against your skin. nobody would have expected the flashy sound hashira to be capable of such level of gentleness.

"i don't mean to be quiet. i just... i don't even know what to say. you said no apologies," you break the silence suddenly, flicking your eyes up to meet his. there was so much adoration in those pink eyes you could almost drown in it.

"take a breathe and tell me what's wrong, peach. i'm here to listen," he responds calmly. "i just came home early to find you hidden and crying in our closet."

"i just... i tried on your present and was really excited about it, but i hate how they look on me," you admit, honestly quite embarrassed that your husband had found you crying over something so trivial as clothes. "sounds so stupid..."

"not stupid at all, love."

"you always know what to say," you respond pulling a smile on his handsome face. he brings one of your hands up to his lips pressing a soft kiss to the back. "i just... today was supposed to be perfect and just..."

you keep starting sentences not even knowing how to end them. tengen had heard you say things like things about your body before. he knows you struggle with loving your body at times which he would never understand. he found himself too obsessed with your curves and soft skin to see any problems with the body he reveres with such adoration.

he could never understand why you would want to change a single thing. despite not understanding your feelings, he would listen attentively to you whenever you needed to rant or cry before showering you with all his love and adoration.

"do you want to try to explain to me what happened again?," he asks once you were calmly breathing against his chest. you nod sitting back up properly to meet his gaze again much calmer this time.

"i told you... just don't like how it looks on me," you respond simply.

"can i see?," he asks, tone so gentle. it was a tone reserved for you, his beloved wife, the woman that brought him to his knees with just a smile.

you nod, both pulling away from each other as your hands travel to your robe. you untie the front letting it slowly drop from your shoulders to expose the bra. his eyes move down to your chest unable to look away from how your breasts practically spilled out of the lacy cups.

his eyes eat you up trying to commit every detail to memory, enamored by the way the light pink lace laid on top of your skin. you shrink slightly under his gaze, suddenly becoming self-conscious and pushing your arms back forward in an attempt to hid.

"no need to be so shy, peach. you look breathtaking...," he cooes softly taking the edges of your robe and pushing it down your arms to reveal more of your body to him, tummy barely hidden under the material as it pools at your waist. "would eat you up if you let me."

"you're crazy," you respond with a small smile.

"crazy for you, my love," you share a sweet smile as his large hands gently cup your face bringing you in for a slow and sweet kiss.

he smiles against your lips as he manages to slip his tongue into your mouth, getting his first taste of you. he quickly leaves you breathless and dizzy on his tongue, only shrieking loudly when he hooks his arm under your knees easily carrying you to your shared bedroom. he was determined to make you see the beauty he sees.

he softly lays you on your shared bed before standing up properly to shed his clothes before returning to bed with you. you sit up on your elbows to properly look at your husband who remains at the foot of the bed. when he dropped you on the bed, your robe had fallen to your sides exposing your entire body to him.

he couldn't peel his hungry gaze away from your newly exposed skin, needing to take in every inch of you. starting at your knee, he proceeds to kiss up your body, slowly covering you in the softest kisses, lips barely grazing against your skin.

he's determined to cover every inch of you in his kisses, but still lingers on his favorite parts, which were also the ones you resent the most. he lingers on your thighs, hips, stomach, arms until he finally nibbles on your collarbones and shoulders. his loving touches are accompanied by the sweetest of compliments, adoring words decorating his gentle touch.

"just wanna eat you up, peach," he mumbles messily against your jaw before moving down to your neck as his adept hands easily get rid of your robe. "just so delicious. can't help myself."

"tengen," you moan his name, letting out a sigh and running your hands through his platinum hair to pull him even closer.

"yes, my darling?," he asks with a cocky smile. tengen just loves making you tell him exactly what you wanted him to do to you. he loves seeing you all flustered after detailing every single little thing you wanted him to do to you. "gotta hear you use your pretty words, peach. you know i love hearing you."

"tengen...," you groan as he nibbles on the column of your neck. "need you... please"

he chuckles against your skin, still not content with your answer, but happily sucking on the sweet spot on your neck making it even harder for you to think. you whine loudly against his lips, trying to make sense of all your thoughts.

"please... break me and put me back together," you barely whisper unable to put more words together without whining embarrassingly loud. "tengen..."

"i know baby girl, i know," he cooes before coming back up to your lips for a moment, messily pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you again. "need to stretch you out a little, my darling."

his fingers graze your inner thighs and you instantly shudder against his touch, your back arching against him at the soft contact. he chuckles softly against your lips at how your body reacts to him. his fingers slowly dance down your thighs, kissing the skin as his fingers disappear under your frilly underwear. your moans mix together as he slides a fingers against your little bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles.

"feel so good, peach," his words go directly to your pussy as your sighs start turning to whines. "so wet for me already."

he taps your bundle of nerves, drawing a gasp from your lips. that mischievous smile you adored decorated his sharp features as you crumble under his touch. rubbing little circles around your clit, tengen cages your body under his, muffling all your noises with his lips and tongue.

"fuck tengen," you moan embarrassingly loud as you roll your hips, rubbing your clit against tengen's digits.

"such a good girl," he bites down on your bottom lip rutting his growing erection against your thigh.

it takes everything in him to not rip the small excuse for underwear off of you, instead tugging the pink thong down your legs in a swift instant. he finally slides a single finger inside of you, slowly rubbing your delicious walls. he can't help but stare and smile at how your body reacts to his touch. in his eyes there is nothing more beautiful than your blissed out smile and lustful eyes.

as he slides another finger inside of you, you try to close your thighs around his hand. tengen chuckles softly, causing goosebumps to form on your skin as he holds your legs apart with ease.

"you gotta keep those pretty thighs open for me, peach," he reminds you as his thumb returns to rub tight little circles on your clit. your head falls back as the pleasure stretches across your body. “just like that, baby.”

the large smile on his face makes your pussy flutter around his fingers, unable to look away from the eyes you adored so much. the closer to your high you get, the less you can think. just when you think you can't take anymore, tengen rubs your clit faster while adding another finger into your blossoming pussy, leaving you digging your nails and clutching on to him for dear life.

“can’t go quiet on me now darling,” you can feel his cocky smile against your neck as he bites down on your skin, starting his newest mark. “can’t let you cum till i hear your pretty little gasps and moans.”

the sound hashira demands for you to let go of any inhibitions, knowing you were teetering on your high. your moans and gasps fill the room at his request needing to feel your release. every flutter of your pussy around his fingers has him rutting his rock hard cock against you even more, making you feel the effect you have on him.

"need to cum... please," you practically beg at this point, barely unable to hold back your orgasm. "please tengen..."

"you've been so good, peach. cum for me."

your thighs instinctively try to clamp shut around tengen's hand, but he easily holds them open watching as you cum on his fingers. he stares hungrily as your sweet honey slowly covers his digits. with your mind so lost in pleasure you barely even notice when he pulls his fingers out of you only to replace them with his mouth.

he laps up every drop of your essence as if he'd never have the chance to taste you again. his tongue brings you to a whole new level of pleasure leaving you thrashing in his tight grip, your abused clit pulsating from his attention.

every lick and suck borders on too much, but he drags you right back to the very precipice of another orgasm. finally gaining an ounce of your strength back, all you can manage is to dig your fingers through his white locks. you pull him even tighter against your sex dragging his tongue back and forth against your clit.

before you even allow yourself, your body is thrown into another orgasmic bliss. tengen's obscene noises are drowned out by your own screams of pleasure as you ride each wave of fiery bliss on his tongue.

"you're so gorgeous when you cum," he mumbles as he kisses your mound softly before making his way up your body leaving the most gentle kisses in his place. his angel soft kisses are such a contrast from the harsh licks and sucks he was just submitting your body to. "can you still give me one more, peach?"

he asks against your lips, drawing your attention back to him and his body barely hovering above yours. you nod before reaching up to capture his lips in yours for a passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. yours moans mix together quickly turning your kiss into a messy battle.

"tengen please...,"you say breathlessly as you run your nails down his back drawing out a sinful moan from your delectable husband.

"you know i can never say no to you, peach," he says as he sinks his cock into your still dripping cunt.

hooking your leg over his shoulder, he pushes himself into your sex, practically growling from how you squeeze his cock. tengen's cock was like nothing you had experienced before. his sheer size was impressive, but it was his thickness that drove you wild, letting him rub spots you didn't even know existed.

he takes one of your hands interlacing your fingers as he sheaths his cock all the way inside you. an intimate quiet moment, before he drags his cock all the way out only to sink it back in and out over and over. you can barely keep up with his pace as he pushes himself somehow deeper until he's kissing your cervix with each thrust.

"doing so well for me peach," he praises between his moans, pace faltering slightly from how delicious you felt, pussy all stretched around his cock.

unable to rid himself of your bra without tearing it in an instant, he instead pushes it down to reveal your breasts jerking with each of his powerful thrusts. his lips instantly latch on to one of your nipples, chuckling against your breast as your back arched off the bed, filling his mouth even more.

your mind is numb already, unable to focus on anything other than how exhilarating your body feels, especially when he rubs that spot over and over and over again. you can only react by digging your nails into his back, piercing his skin with the signs of your affection.

"you like that don't you, peach?," tengen asks, growling again when he feels your sex squeezing his cock over and over when he angles it a certain way. "that gorgeous mind of yours empty, huh?"

his free hand tightens around your jaw to force your eyes to his as he slams into you over and over again. the moment he pushes his thumb into your mouth, you suck on it feverishly drool covering his digit and slowly dripping out of your mouth only for him to smear it across your lips again. his thrusts become more erratic chasing his high as he stares at the beautiful being under him consumed by her lust, lost in his adoration.

"with me, peach," he moans, harsh thrusts pushing you closer and closer to your shared high. "together."

as soon as you nod, he goes back to angling his cock to only rub against your sensitive spot. you aren't sure who came first, clinging on to each other as you rode your intense highs. his sparkling rose eyes are first things you meet when you're able to open your own. the pure adoration in them is something you'd never become accustomed to. he loved entirely, purely and absolutely.

"whatcha thinking about so much peach?," he asks ever so softly brushing his fingers through your hair.

"just you, as always my love," you tease, drawing out a whole hearted chuckle from him.

"glad you can still look at me like that after i tore your new underwear," he points out, making you notice he had in fact torn the bra when he tugged it down.

"we both know you'll buy me more."

"i'll stare at my gorgeous wife in every piece of clothing or none all the same," he seals his declaration with another searing kiss, but you knew he meant those words. you had enough torn clothes to prove it.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

That FNAF one was so good, can we have more of G.lamrock Freddy pred?

I can definitely get some more done for him, he’s great.

With a wet slurp, M.onty’s thrashing tail disappears past F.reddy’s lips and the gator fully lands in his gut. A wet belch rumbles out of the bear after, his gut sloshing back and forth as M.onty thrashes inside. B.onnie takes a step back, lifting his hands up. “Woah, Fred, let’s talk about this!”

“We have already talked about it,” F.reddy says, stepping forward to keep pace with B.onnie. “Now I am putting you and M.onty in time out until you start getting along.”

M.onty and B.onnie were almost always bickering with each other. Some kind of competition or sly exchange of words or just being around each other for too long gets the two animatronics worked up and fighting. F.reddy often has to break them up, and despite time and time again telling them to stop, it never does. That escalated to right now, where their bickering made them ruin a performance.

Now, in the backstage area, B.onnie just watched M.onty get snapped up and slurped down with ease. And F.reddy is advancing on him for seconds. “This is a bit extreme, isn’t it?” B.onnie asks with a nervous chuckle. “Look, you already got Mont, so let’s just call it even and--ack!” B.onnie bumps into a wall as he backed up, and soon after, has F.reddy’s full gut pressed against him. “F.reddy, c’mon, this is...oh Faz...” B.onnie’s eyes widen as F.reddy’s jaws do the same. Then his head is engulfed, and wet gulps and slurps begin dragging him down.

Sandwiched between the wall and F.reddy’s gut, there’s nowhere for B.onnie to go. He can barely even struggle as he’s quickly devoured. He gets a few seconds to kick his legs when he’s knee deep, but F.reddy tips his head back with a slurp and they disappear fast, sending him sloshing down into the bear’s gut on top of M.onty.

F.reddy huffs a bit, his tongue lolling out as he puts his hands on either side of his gut. “A-Alright, you two...you are heavy. I will let you out later once you have learned your lesson.” He’s sure that some timeout in his stomach together will let them work out whatever issues they have. They’re shouting a lot at the moment and won’t stop wiggling around, but F.reddy is more than capable of carrying that weight.

And carry it he does. He has to lug the two of them around for the day while continuing to do his job and entertain! He’s a bit gassier than usual doing it, and there’s no hiding his stomach. It’s all a little flustering for the bear, but any time someone asks, he just mentions that he’s helping B.onnie and M.onty “work out their differences”. Usually punctuated with a belch or some muffled shouting.

Of course, lugging around two giant robots is a lot of hard work on its own. Pair that up with having to handle customers and constantly move around, as well as needing to do even more work with two of the bandmates...indisposed, and it’s very demanding on his systems. Luckily, his body is sensing a lot of fuel for the taking.

F.reddy doesn’t noticed, too distracted handling so many people at once. When M.onty or B.onnie try to yell at him or when he lets out a notably harsh belch, it doesn’t register as any different than what has been happening today anyway. Their frantic thrashing is something he’s already adjusted to, so it doesn’t do much to get his attention when it grows more panicked and desperate.

The one thing F.reddy does notice is when his exhaustion starts to plateau and even wear off slightly. He’s also noticing that M.onty and B.onnie seem to be settling down a bit, their wiggling a lot less intent and their voices much softer. They must be calming down finally and getting along! And his systems are feeling less strained because of it. He doesn’t pay enough attention to notice that his stomach is smaller and softer, or that fuel is sluicing through him as B.onnie and M.onty fall apart.

The longer it goes on, the more energized F.reddy feels. He doesn’t really register the weird looks he gets from people when he mentions B.onnie and M.onty being in timeout in his stomach. It’s barely big enough for one robot, let alone two, and is far too round and sloshy anyway. Most people shrug it off as a strange joke though.

By the end of the day, F.reddy returns to his room with a soft sigh. “I am sorry that took longer than anticipated, I was unable to get a break today!” F.reddy says to his friends. “I will let you two out now, so I hope you have learned yoOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRPP!!!” A thick belch rumbles out of F.reddy and something flies out of his maw. He recognizes them as M.onty’s sunglasses, and when he stoops down to grab them, he finally takes notice of his stomach.

It hangs off of him like a round pot belly, sloshing slightly when he moves. He blinks and presses a paw into it, feeling it squish and grumble. It’s far too small to hold one animatronic, certainly not two. F.reddy’s face heats up a bit. “...oh dear, not again...”

-

F.reddy blinks a couple of times as he suddenly comes back online. He’s in the giant cylinder still so his maintenance must have finally finished! He smiles to himself and moves to get to his feet. As he does, he feels his entire center of balance shift and he stumbles a bit as he gets up again. “What on Earth..?” He looks down at himself and...ah.

F.reddy’s stomach hangs out heavily before him, bubbling and sloshing. He can feel something shifting around in there. He stifles a belch into his fist and puts his own paw on his stomach to settle it slightly. That is not ideal. F.reddy rubs his stomach slightly as he steps out of the cylinder and sees the very unhappy expression of the lead technician.

“Ah...I hope I was not too much trouble,” F.reddy says with a sheepish expression. His stomach bubbles wetly and he feels the meat inside go completely slack. He stifles another burp.

“Well, we’re down five technicians now,” the lead says with an annoyed sigh. He jabs F.reddy’s gut with a screwdriver, making it slosh and wobble. It gets a wet belch out of F.reddy and a cap flies out of his jaws, hitting the ground with a wet splat.

“I see...” F.reddy can feel his face heating up and he looks away. He rubs over his gut ideally as it bumps the biofuel through him, most of those technicians long since broken down. He can’t help but let out a pleased hum as he feels his systems get more energized.

The lead technician sighs and shakes his head. “Just go back to your room and finish that off. I need to find some people willing to work on M.onty...”

“Understood. Thank you.” F.reddy smiles politely and heads for his personal maintenance tunnel. His gut bounces and sways as he walks, loud sloshes echoing through the tunnel. He’lll likely have finished processing all of the technicians within the hour.

“I do apologize for your rapid demotion to biofuel,” F.reddy comments to his stomach. He knows none of them can hear him, but he feels he should say something. It’s not like he meant to eat them! He just cannot control himself when he’s in maintenance mode. They go through technicians so fast, that most of them are new hires that make one mistake and...well...

F.reddy burps again, this time sending a shoe flying out and bounce across the ground. He slurps over his lips a bit and pats his stomach. At least all of the energy they gave him will let him get through the day without charging! He’s sure they are happy to provide that at least.

[suzukiblu]

Day sixteen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

TTK does, apparently, protect Kon from callouses, which Tim learns the hard way as Kon laces their fingers together and rubs his thumb across the back of Tim’s hand. His skin is so much softer than it should be, Tim thinks accusingly. Couldn't he at least have the decency to have chapped hands? Sweaty palms or something, even? 

Unfortunately, what Kon has is soft, warm, strong hands whose fingers lace easily through Tim's own, and Tim just has to deal with that somehow, apparently. Apparently that's just his problem now. 

Bastard. 

Tim needs to not melt into an incoherent pile of mush, so he just acts like this is fine and normal and normal and fine and walks into the store with Kon and leads him over to the phones. Kon seems smugly pleased. Tim pretends to not be an incoherent pile of mush. 

It doesn't particularly work, but he at least puts in the effort. 

“Any preferences?” he asks, tugging Kon towards the closest display.

“For a phone?” Kon says. “Not really. I mean, whatever works.” 

Tim is going to take full advantage of that “whatever”, he immediately promises himself. Full and total and complete. 

“Okay,” he agrees, then starts looking at the high-end models. No point in going cheap, though he's definitely going to make sure to pick a durable brand with the least possible degree of planned obsolescence involved. If it comes to it, he'll either upgrade one or build Kon something outright later, but for now the standard retail models are gonna have to do. 

“Uh,” Kon says, cocking his head with a bemused expression and then gesturing towards the wall with his half-empty smoothie cup. Tim is perfectly normal about the fact that they're still holding hands. All kinds of it. Completely and totally. “The burners are over there, man.” 

“Why would I get you a prepaid phone?” Tim asks, making a point of putting on a skeptical expression. “Most of those models don't even have a decent camera.” 

“That is a nine hundred dollar smartphone that you are currently looking at,” Kon says incredulously. 

“Given your powerset involves the ability to decide to make anything you're touching invulnerable, I'm not particularly concerned about you breaking it,” Tim replies reasonably. “Like, are you even capable of dropping things?” 

“Technically no, but I still fight supervillains on the daily, dude,” Kon says. 

“Then I'll spring for the accident insurance,” Tim replies reasonably. “I'd have to come back to buy you a new burner anyway, so it's just easier all around if you can duck in and pick up a replacement without needing to wait for me.” 

“It is nine hundred dollars,” Kon says. 

“There's an eight hundred dollar model, if you don't mind a little less memory,” Tim says. 

“The burners are like, twenty bucks,” Kon says. “And you don’t need to sign up for a plan or anything.” 

“Yes, but if you run out of minutes or break it, you’ll need me to come reload or replace it,” Tim says. “This way you can do it yourself and you can talk as much as you want.” 

“How much exactly are you expecting to want to talk to me, man?” Kon says with a self-deprecating little laugh. Tim thinks vicious thoughts, makes room for a few more spaces on his supervillain vengeance list, and then just shrugs. 

“Up to you,” he says. “I mean, I have school and extracurricular stuff, but that only fills up so much of the day, you know?” 

“You cannot possibly have researched me thoroughly enough to be that sure we’re gonna get along,” Kon says, frowning faintly at the phones. 

“You’re seriously underestimating my capacity for research,” Tim informs him, taking a sip of his smoothie. “Also I’m really just going on how well we’ve been getting along so far.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, and his face flushes again. “Uh . . . okay.” 

“How about this one?” Tim suggests, tipping his head towards one of the mid-range models. Decent brand and sturdy build, but not quite as expensive. 

“That’s still five hundred bucks,” Kon says. 

“I am intending to spend a lot more than five hundred bucks on you today,” Tim says. “And anyway, five hundred bucks for both our conveniences is a small price to pay, don’t you think?” 

“I guess,” Kon says, glancing towards him for a moment before looking back to the phones. “Um . . . maybe, then. If you’re–sure.” 

“I’m sure,” Tim says firmly. “Seriously, I’m not texting you on your work phone, that’s a terrible idea.” 

“If you say so, man,” Kon says, ducking his head a little like he’s trying to hide his smile. It’d work better if he weren’t taller than him, probably. 

The bastard is still holding his hand, so it’s only fair, Tim figures. 

God, since when is Kon this cute, anyway? He's always annoyingly hot, obviously–leaning more strongly towards the “annoying”, for obvious reasons–but he isn't usually cute. Tim wasn't prepared for that. He hasn't had the time to build up the necessary defenses against it. 

“I say so,” Tim says. “What color do you want?” 

“You're a very weird dude, you know,” Kon says with a little laugh, shaking his head.

[moonstruckme]

Hi maeeee!!! Congratulations on the 6k! You deserve all of it and more♥️you’re an incredible writer and have helped keep me afloat during a very hot and boring summer. In addition to being a wonderful writer, you’re also a lovely person, and you’ve provided such a warm, happy safe space for anyone who is lucky enough to come across your tumblr. Sending you all my love and glitter and hugs, thank you for making this community so amazing❤️❤️❤️

This is unrelated and totally up to you, but for one of your lovely rambles, I’d like to request Prince! Sirius with Princess! Reader who is a virgin/inexperienced. As someone who is often insecure about their lack of romantic relationships, it would mean a lot to me. I’m a very short, enthusiastic person and sometimes that comes across as being childlike, like I’m not a woman or capable of being desired. Anyway, that is entirely up to you, my congratulations and well wishes stand regardless.

Thank you!

-bluebelle🌸

Hi lovely!! You're such a sweetheart, I'm really glad that this is a place where you like to be ! Sending so so much love your way too <33

smutty stuff below mdni

i do think at first sirius would assume that because you didn't grow up in royal society, you must have been wild and have tons of experience (he's a bit naive like that)

however, once he finds out he feels awful for assuming and is so so sweet with you

makes very, very sure you actually want it, especially because he's already fucked up by making assumptions once

when he's positive you do, he's all gentle, teasing touches and "you like that, sweetheart?"

starts out by keeping things fairly light and fun, making sure you're having a good time, but as things progress he gets softer and sweeter and more earnest

his kisses go from pecks and nips to heavy, hungry tongue kisses, and while he's still making sure you enjoy yourself his touches are less about getting a certain reaction from you and more about getting to know you and your body

you're in a haze of plush sheets and this beautiful boy and still reeling from how new everything is lately, and for reasons he can't understand sirius is feeling almost as overwhelmed, because he's fucked plenty of men and women but never anything like this

afterwards, he rings for snacks without thinking, and kisses you all over when you hide underneath the covers, sweaty and embarassed. nobody asks any questions

[icarusignite]

An Eye for an Eye Ch.7

MASTERLIST / ao3 / wattpad

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC

"I want to grab my brother's hand and run back through time, losing years like cloaks falling from our shoulders."

Summary: Daenys Velaryon finally manages to escape her usurper husband and return to her family to bend the knee to the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Word Count: 4.6k

Daenys floated in the murky depths of unconsciousness, her senses dulled by the weight of her own weariness. It felt as though she were adrift in a sea of shadows, pulled down by the heavy chains of numb sleep, yet amidst the darkness, a persistent shaking stirred her from her slumber, tugging at her with a desperation she did not imagine anyone might give to one such as her.

At first, she was only vaguely aware of it, a distant echo of sensation that barely registered through the fog of her mind. But as the shaking grew more insistent, more urgent, she felt herself slowly being drawn back to consciousness, like a ship pulled from the depths by a relentless current.

Her head throbbed with a dull ache, each pulse sending waves of pain crashing through her skull. With great effort, she summoned the strength to open her right eye a crack, the other swollen shut so tightly, it hurt just to think about it. Through the haze that clouded her vision, she could make out the blurry outline of familiar brown curls, swaying gently with each movement.

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had passed from the realm of the living, but the warmth of the hands that grasped at her, the tender care with which they held her, chased away any fear or doubt that might have plagued her. 

Perhaps the Stranger was doing her the kindness of coming to claim her in the guise of someone she knew. Although she would have liked it to be her father, Ser Harwin made a fine replacement. However, as consciousness began to seep back into her weary limbs, Daenys found herself realizing that the grip was too weak, too fragile to belong to the stalwart knight who had raised her with such love and devotion. No, this touch was different, softer, gentler, yet no less determined in its purpose. 

Could it be Luke then, she wondered, having absolved her of her crimes in death, and there to hold her as she passed over. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was not him. Luke's touch was sure and steady, his hands strong and capable, nothing like the fragile grasp that held her now. 

Then Daenys found herself engulfed in a tidal wave of fear and uncertainty. Despite any brave words she might have uttered in the past about being prepared to face death with courage and false bravado, the reality of the moment was stark and undeniable: no one was truly ready to meet their end.

Tears welled up in her eyes, hot and stinging, as soft, choked sobs wracked her body. In the embrace of the figure holding her, she felt a desperate need to both pull them close and push them away. She clung to them as if they were her lifeline, as if by holding onto them she could somehow anchor herself to the world of the living. Yet, even as she sought solace in their embrace, a part of her recoiled from the thought of facing the unknown, of surrendering herself to the finality of death.

"I don't want to die," she whispered, her voice trembling with raw emotion, the words a fragile plea against the looming spectre of mortality. "I want to see my mother... hug my little brothers... beg for forgiveness..."

Her thoughts tumbled together in a jumble of confusion and longing, each desire a reminder of the life she still yearned to live. She wanted to feel her mother's arms around her, to seek comfort in the embrace of her siblings, to make amends for past wrongs and seek forgiveness for her failings.

Above all else, Daenys Velaryon did not want to die and she was afraid. 

That is until she forced her eye open completely, and saw him. 

There he was, her brother, her beautiful baby brother, his arms wrapped around her as he shook her with desperation leaking from his eyes in a never-ending river. 

"You're going to be alright. Please, please, please, you're going to be alright. You have to be," Joffrey Velaryon muttered over and over, like a prayer gone stale. 

He said it so many times that Daenys believed him. If he was her then she was not alone. If he was here then she wasn't as loathed as she believed herself to be, and if he was looking at her like that, then she would be okay. 

"You're going to be alright. I promise you're going to be alright."

She did not question why he was there, or how he had even found her. All that mattered was that he was here. 

She closed her eyes, ignoring the way his frantic sobs grew louder. 

She had been ten when he was born, and her father had handed him to her for the first time ever so carefully, his slender weight so fragile in her arms, and now here she was, dead weight in his fragile arms. It wasn't fair. He should not have to look after her like this. That was her job. 

She had been thirteen when he broke his wrist the first time while sparring, and she had cradled him just so, whispering the same words that slipped past his blubbering lips now. 

You're going to be alright. You're going to be alright, I promise you, you're going to be alright. 

She had said it over and over, even as the maester wrapped his injury and placed him on bed rest. She had said it until it had healed completely, over and over until he believed her. 

Now he was returning the favour. 

Daenys's eyes remained closed. It was easier to live in her memories, where the sounds of her brother's laughter rang in her ears like bells and her heart wasn't a graveyard of losses. 

The urgency in the voice that pleaded with her to wake up finally pierced through the haze of her consciousness once more, and she groaned softly in response, the sound escaping her lips as if torn from the depths of her soul. The hands that shook her grew more insistent, more desperate, and with a jolt, her right eye flew open once more, this time properly taking in the frantic expression of her brother.

"Joff?" she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse murmur, her mind struggling to make sense of the chaos that surrounded her. But before she could gather her thoughts, Joffrey was moving, trying to rise from his position beside her on the floor of the little wooden cabin.

"We have to go home, Daenys," he urged, his voice trembling with emotion, his eyes wild with fear and determination. "You'll be alright if we can just get you home. Maester Gerardys will fix you. I know he will. He is Grand Maester now, you know. If anyone can fix you, it's him."

The words spilled from him in his panic, and he explicitly avoided looking at her face, now that she was awake. With a grunt of effort, he reached for her, his fingers curling around her arms as he tried to loop them around his neck, to hoist her limp body up from the floor, but his strength faltered, his knees buckling beneath him as he struggled to bear her weight.

"Joff, you don't have to-"

"Be quiet..." he choked out. "Please...please just be quiet. I have to-I have to think."

"Joffrey, I..." Daenys began, her voice catching in her throat as she watched the anguish play across her brother's face. "I'm sorry..."

Joffrey would not be deterred. With a renewed determination, he tried again, this time reaching for her under her arms, his fingers grasping desperately as he sought to pull her towards the door, towards the spill of twilight that beckoned from beyond.

"We have to go home, Daenys," he repeated, his voice strained with effort, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You'll be alright, I promise. Just hold on."

Fueled by his perseverance, Daenys summoned the last reserves of strength within her weary limbs, pushing herself up into a shaky standing position. The world spun around her in dizzying swirls, and for a moment, she feared she might collapse once more, but the urgent grasp of her brother's hand steadied her, anchoring her to the present moment with a fierceness that spoke of his unyielding resolve.

His grip on her hand was tight, almost painfully so, as if he feared that she might disappear if he dared to loosen his hold. His fingers dug into her skin, his nails leaving faint impressions in their wake, but Daenys found herself welcoming the pressure, finding solace in the reassurance of his touch.

Daenys leaned heavily against her brother, her taller frame awkwardly mismatched with his shorter stature, but Joffrey bore the burden without complaint, and Daenys felt a pang of guilt gnawing at her heart. She knew that she was putting her brother through this hardship, that her own weakness was burdening him with a weight that he should not have to bear.

Outside on the beach, Silverwing and Joffrey's dragon awaited their arrival, and Daenys turned to Joffrey, suddenly furious. 

"You rode Tyraxes!" she whispered hoarsely. "How many times have I told you not to-"

"You're one to talk!" Joffrey snapped sullenly. "Look at you!"

"Tyraxes is not large enough to ride safely. You could have gotten hurt. You could have died."

"You would have died if I had not come! No one else would come, but I had to, I just had to Daenys."

"Why? Why would you risk yourself..."

"Because it's you!" the brunette boy's lower lip trembled as a fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks, and this time Daenys did not stop herself from racing out and thumbing them away. "Because it's you, and I know they were all wrong about you. They said you were a traitor, but I knew you weren't. Not you. Never you!"

Wordlessly, Daenys pulled him into her, finding comfort in the way his bony arms wrapped around her waist and sobbed into her salt-and-blood-encrusted dress. 

"It's okay," she mumbled. "It's okay, you're going to be alright."

"I'm supposed to be telling you that. You're the one who needs to be alright."

"I'll be alright if you're alright," Daenys managed a weak chuckle. "And you're riding Silverwing with me this time."

Daemon Targaryen was an impatient man. It had been almost a week since his Lucerys had been murdered in cold blood by the usurper's brother, the son of the whore who killed his King, and unfortunately his daughter's husband. Daemon had been waiting for a chance to avenge the young boy but Rhaenyra had stayed his hand, expressing concern for the daughter who remained in the viper's den at King's Landing. She had worried about harm befalling Daenys but Daemon didn't think their lack of action would stop the Hightowers, not if they truly wished to cause her harm. Their lack of action or retaliation clearly hadn't stopped Lucerys's death, so it would not stop Daenys's if it came to it. 

Mysaria's spies assured him that the Velaryon Princess had not bent the knee to the usurper as Otto Hightower had so brazenly declared before his wife, and Daemon had to wonder how much longer they'd keep her alive if she wasn't serving some greater purpose to them. It wasn't as if his Kinslayer nephew had enough heart to do it out of mercy, or gods forbid, some pathetic notion of love. 

Whatever it was, he and Rhaenyra had already lost a daughter and a son, and they could not afford to lose another child. Daemon would deal with it of course, as he always did, but he didn't think the Queen could bear another heartbreak like that. She was stronger than most of them, but three children dead would be unnecessarily cruel of the fates. That kind of loss hollowed one from the inside out. 

These were the thoughts that consumed Daemon as he took his early morning stroll along the grounds of Dragonstone. He was finally brought out of his reverie by a commotion in the air. He looked up just in time to see a massive silver dragon land a few yards away, and from the dragon's back climbed off the last person he expected to see here. 

When Silverwing landed at Dragonstone, Daenys barely even noticed, not until Joffrey shook her awake once more, signalling the end of their journey. He helped her slide off and together they stumbled, on the damp cobblestones below, dawn creeping across the sky behind them. 

Joffrey eyed her for a moment, meeting her eyes with great difficulty, and it began to hit her how terrible she probably looked. Her head still spun and she was so cold, as if all the warmth had bled out of her, but the only thing on her mind was to make it to her mother still standing on her own two feet. 

She had to bend the knee to her true sovereign. 

Her knees shook, and Joffrey reached out to steady her, but then there was another figure, a sturdier presence that caught her elbows before her knees could buckle and brought her up. As she lifted her face to look up at them, even though her vision was more than slightly blurry now, she heard a sharp intake of breath. She could make out the vague outline of a familiar face and she nearly collapsed with relief.

"Daemon," she breathed.

Daemon looked at Daenys in horror, shrewd eyes mapping the bloody torn contours of his daughter's face. Then his attention turned to his son, brows furrowing. 

"Does your mother know where you've been?" he inquired sharply. "Haven't you been told to remain in Dragonstone for your own safety?"

Joffrey flinched and instinctively tucked himself behind his trembling sister. 

"I-I'm sorry, Father. I just...it was a short flight, I promise!" 

Daemon felt the slightest guilt at the look in Joffrey's eyes, but it couldn't be helped. The safety of his family was his first and foremost priority, and Joffrey in particular, he had raised practically from birth. 

"Go to your Septas at once. I shall speak to you later on this. And by the gods, do not let your mother know of your misadventures."

Joffrey hesitated, looking up at Daenys.

"Will...will she be alright, Father?"

Daemon almost winced when he looked at her again, and then he was filled with rage. Rage at whoever had done this to her. Turned her face into a mangled mess. His beloved daughter, reduced to this? As if he needed another reason to behead Otto and his entire bloodline. 

She seemed delirious from blood loss and could barely stand, so he solidified his grip on her arms and signalled to a nearby groundskeeper to lead her dragon away. 

"She'll be fine, Joffrey, so be on your way now and send for Maester Gerardys on your way."

"Where-"

"Mother!" Daenys blurted. "I need to see Mother, please, take me to Mother."

The air was heavy with the weight of sorrow in Daemon and Rhaenyra's shared chambers, where Rhaenyra lay, tangled in the embrace of a fitful sleep. As Daemon shook her gently awake, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet stillness, Rhaenyra groaned softly, her body heavy with exhaustion, her mind clouded with the weight of grief.

Slowly, she sat up, rubbing sleep from her swollen eyes, her heart heavy with the ache of longing. The pillow beneath her was damp with the evidence of her tears, and she wondered what new catastrophic news her husband would break to her today. 

But as she turned her gaze to the figure kneeling at the foot of her bed, her heart skipped a beat, a rush of emotion sweeping through her like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. There, before her, knelt her daughter, her darling girl, her firstborn child, her heart's greatest treasure.

"Daenys..." Rhaenyra whispered, her voice choked with emotion, tears welling up in her eyes once more as she drank in the sight of her daughter, as if seeing her for the first time all over again. "Oh, my dear sweet girl. Is it really you?"

Daenys kept her face bowed low, a veil of hair obscuring her features, a silent gesture of humility and reverence as well as an excuse to hide her injury if only for a moment longer. As her mother's words washed over her like a soothing balm, she nodded her head ever so slightly, a tremor of emotion running through her slender frame. 

"Yes, Your Majesty, the true Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men and Lady of the Seven Kingdoms."

It was as if Daenys had been in a drought and Rhaenyra was rain, a cure to her pain. 

"Come, my darling," her mother said, her voice soft and tender. "You don't need to kneel before me. I only wish to hold you again, to feel your embrace and know that you are truly here, and not a spectre of my imagination."

As Daenys finally lifted her face and stood before her mother, she braced herself for the inevitable reaction, steeling herself for the pain that she knew would flicker across Rhaenyra's features at the sight of her scarred visage. But nothing could have prepared her for the raw anguish that washed over her mother's face, the way her features contorted with a mixture of shock, horror, and heartbreak.

Rhaenyra blanched, her eyes momentarily averting from her daughter's disfigured face before returning to trace over it, her gaze lingering on the puckered mass of flesh and blood that marred her features, taking up half her face. The silence between them stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears, until finally, Daenys found her voice.

"Mama... I..." Her voice trailed off, choked with emotion, and she was a child once more, going to her mother for a skinned knee or hangnail. Something small and insignificant that she would kiss away, and all would be right in the world again. 

Daenys felt a surge of self-loathing wash over her, a bitter taste of shame that threatened to swallow her whole. She was hideous, she realized, a grotesque mockery of the daughter that her mother had once known and loved. Even now, Rhaenyra could not bear to look upon her without recoiling in horror.

With a heavy heart, she turned away, ready to take her leave, to spare her mother from the burden of her presence, but before she could retreat, Rhaenyra reached out and pulled her down to sit beside her, her arms wrapping around her daughter in a tender embrace.

That was what opened the floodgates and Daenys buried her face in her mother's neck, her tears flowing freely now, unchecked by the weight of guilt and shame that had burdened her. She felt unworthy of her mother's love, unworthy of the comfort that she so freely offered, and yet, in the warmth of her embrace, she found solace and sanctuary.

"Shh, my darling," Rhaenyra whispered, her voice soft and soothing against Daenys's ear. "It's alright. I'm here, and I will always be here for you."

"I didn't do it!" Daenys hiccuped. "I didn't bend the knee to Aegon. I'm not a traitor, I swear!"

"I know, dearest. I know."

"But Otto said-"

"Never mind what that cunt said," Daemon snapped, still watching their reunion silently. "Your mother never doubted you."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry Mama. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Rhaenyra soothed, carding her fingers through Daenys's hair with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "My beautiful girl, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I thought I had lost you too. I could not lose another child, another daughter. I could not bear it."

"Another daughter?" Daenys whispered in confusion, pulling away from her mother for a moment.

"The baby. The baby did not make it. I have lost my Visenya. I have lost my Lucerys. I have lost my father. How much more must I lose till the fates decide they are done with me? I cannot lose you too."

Oh. 

So that is what Otto Hightower meant by the loss of two children. Daenys did not know what to say, or how to put into words the grief and the regret and the guilt. 

She did the only thing she knew how to do. She apologized some more. 

Daemon came over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "We are glad for your return my little one. It was getting unbearable, all these losses."

Her mother only shuddered at his words, her grief too much to contain, but she held herself together. For the sake of her daughter, she held herself together. She had been doing so for a long time, waiting, hoping for Daenys's return. Putting all of her faith in Alicent and her son to keep her only remaining daughter safe, even as they broke her trust over and over, as they stole her crown and her Lucerys. Now that she had Daenys in front of her, her resolve shattered and all that was left was despair at the loss of everyone she loved and the final betrayal Alicent's family had cost her: the mutilation of her child.  

Rhaenyra finally pulled away a little to properly examine Daenys and she cringed under her scrutiny. She did not want her mother to see the extent of her injury or the horribly uneven job she did at trying to mend it. 

"Call a maester. Call a maester, my daughter is hurt," she muttered angrily, gesturing to Daemon who caught her hand and tried to soothe her as he called for a maester as she had asked. 

"Mother, I am fine," Daenys sniffled. "It's alright. I'm ok so please do not worry."

"NO! Look at you. How can you be fine? Just looking at you hurts me so how can you possibly be fine!"

When maester Gerardys finally made an appearance, even he winced at the sight of Daenys's face. He had been tending to her since she was a child and she had never seen him look so concerned. 

"What has happened princess?" he prodded at the left side of her face experimentally, shaking his head when she flinched at the touch.

"Will she be alright? Can the eye be saved?" Rhaenyra still had Daenys's hand clutched tightly in hers. 

It was strangely reminiscent of another time, of another mother, frantically asking the very same question. The irony of it all was not lost on Rhaenyra. 

Maester Gerardys carefully cut away the violet threads that bound her wound together and Daenys felt herself missing their loss. There was something symbolic about it, about having to hold herself together using the very same threads that wove through her mother's favourite flowers, her brother's favourite masterpiece. 

Everything was both a memory and a landmine. 

"My queen, there is no eye to save," the Grand Maester responded grimly. 

Rhaenyra's hand squeezed Daenys's tighter and across the room, Daemon growled. 

"That worthless husband of yours will pay. The least he could do was keep you safe as his family decided to usurp what was rightfully your mother's. He made vows to protect you, to honour you. There is no honour in maiming your wife, in killing a child."

As Maester Gerardys continued to examine her injury, Daenys could feel the pain creeping back in. She had made herself numb to it but it was coming back in waves and she did not know how much longer she could hold it at bay.

"It appears as though whoever stitched you up had hooves for hands. Do they not have trained maesters at the Red Keep anymore?" the elderly man inquired, and Daenys found herself flinching at his words. Then he pulled out a needle that he brandished in her direction, "Hold still princess, this is going to hurt quite a bit."

When he placed the first stitch under her eye, Daenys tensed. Her mother's grip on her was deathly tight, yet somehow it soothed her because she leaned into it. It did not hurt as much as it had when she had tried to stitch herself up. Perhaps it was Rhaenyra's maternal comfort or perhaps all the trauma had finally fried her nerves. 

Whatever it was, Daenys thought that she would have liked a bit of wine to help her along. She didn't dare ask though, for alcoholism was not her forte. 

Not yet anyway. 

Rhaenyra on the other hand seemed to carry the pain in her very bones. She gasped every time the needle went under Deenys's skin, her other hand clasped against her mouth to swallow the sobs that threatened to break past her lips. She had to remain strong for her daughter, and it took everything within her not to snap at the poor old maester to be gentler. 

Seeing her like this, Rhaenyra finally realized what Alicent must have felt on that night on Driftmark, the night her son's eye was taken. As she watched the maester tell her that her child's eye could not be saved, as her child cried into her arms and she was helpless to do anything. Daenys wasn't even crying, showing no external indication of pain except for the occasional tremble, but Rhaenyra felt as though she'd break into a thousand pieces. Watching one's child in pain was one of the most painful experiences, and Rhaenyra's pain was built on top of the death of her other children. She knew nothing but pain these days. 

Perhaps a little too late she realized that it had been unfair for Alicent to have had to sit and watch Aemond suffer as he had that night. 

Too little too late. She had failed her family, and in turn, they had taken from her all she held dear. 

There was no room for reconciliation now. 

She couldn't help but wonder all the same, if all those years ago, she had just given up Luke's eye, would he still be alive today? Would her children be safe if she had sacrificed such a thing back then? An eye seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things. She would rather have her son without an eye than not have him at all.

"This will leave a very prominent scar, my Queen," Maester Gerardys turned to Rhaenyra when he finished up suturing and bandaging Daenys's eye. "There will also be scars where the uneven stitches went. Undamaged skin that did not need to be sewn was put under the needle, so this is to be expected."

Rhaenyra gave him a tight-lipped nod and thanked him, as Daemon sent him on his way. 

"Mama..."

Rhaenyra turned towards her daughter, thumbing away the stray tears that had spilled from the eye that could still cry, "Yes my darling girl?"

"Can I stay here with you tonight?"

"Yes of course. You can stay as long as you want. I will have you with me forever if you wish it."

And so in the comfort of her mother's arms, Daenys finally found peace after what felt like a brief eternity. Even though she knew it was temporary, she allowed herself to relax and slip into the darkness that had been creeping its fingers toward her since her standoff with Aemond on the balcony. It had been so long since she had been held like this, with affection so unconditional, by someone who cared this much about her. She had once thought Aemond had grown to care for her, but how delusional she had been. No one could love her like her family could, and in return, she'd lay down her life for them. She was finally where she belonged, with the people she'd die for. With the people, she'd kill for. 

The last thing she heard was her mother and Daemon's tensed whispers but she was more focused on the feeling of Rhaenyra's fingers running through her hair and for the first time in weeks, she slept without fear. 

A/N: likes/reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, would love to hear your thoughts <3

[doki-doki-imagines]

You never show your face to him during intimate moments.

Bachira Meguru:

-No way he is okay with this, he needs to see your eyes to understand what is going on.

-They are also the first trait that pulled him to you, so covering them ruins all the fun.

-“Ohi, what’s wrong?”

-There is no way Bachira will let this topic go, he’ll cage you under him and he’ll stare until you break.

-Bachira can be pretty intimidating when he wants.

-So you break, you tell him you don’t want to see his disgusted face when he’ll look at your body, how you are scared shitless of your low appeal, and…damn you can’t talk anymore between sobs.

-Bachira treats you with the delicacy that only someone in love could have. He is still caging you under him, but his expression is much softer like his embrace.

-“You can be so dumb at times. Don’t know how those thoughts got into that silly head of yours, but I’ll make sure to push them all away”

Rin Itoshi: -Why do you always hide your face, why do you always turn the other way around, why, why, why

-So Rin thinks he is the problem, you don’t want to look at him because you are disgusted by him, maybe you prefer to think of someone else…

- As often happen Rin's green monster crawls under his skin, ready to vomit venom on you at the first sign of hiding.

-But this time, when you cover your eyes for the nth time Rin notices something new; are your lips trembling? Are you gonna cry? Is he so disgusting?

-So with his usual gentlemanly ways, he grips your wrist to push your arms out of the way and whispers “What the hell is wrong with you”

-The atmosphere is so tense you think it is gonna kill you soon if you don’t spill your insecurity and that’s what you do, chest heavy, but trying to maintain at least a bit of dignity

-“Never heard such dumb shit ever in my life”

-If the situation wasn’t so dramatic, you have kneed his kidney.

-So you think to be the problem…this change the entire situation! He doesn’t know how to deal with this situation anyway, but he feels relieved!

-A little less relieved when he looks at your face, eyes watery and ugly pout.

-Rin for sure doesn’t know how to express himself with words, so he’ll do it physically. Will it take more time? Probably, but it is the easiest way for him while trying to make you understand how pure shit those intrusive thoughts are.

Oliver Aiku:

-With a guy like Oliver the issue came out way sooner than with the others guys.

-And for you, the issue got even worse since it was way easier to imagine him going with someone else if you aren’t good enough.

-With someone else, Oliver wouldn’t have given two fucks in all honesty.

-But he is serious about you?? So he at least wants to try, he doesn’t want to give up so easily.

-It was during a normal indoor date that Oliver asked you about this.

-You were watching a film together, your head lying on his chest, his arm around your waist, so it was easy to stop your probable runaway.

-And he was so good at making you relax. It’s not like it was easy to talk about the topic, but at least Oliver put you at ease.

-But his ass is burnt. Do you trust him so little? Damn it hurts. He jokes about it with you, laughs even, but the pain is real.

-Oliver will try anything in his capabilities to make you understand that more often than not brains can come out with fucked up shit that aren’t true.

-But now you also have to demonstrate you trust him; it still stings you know?

[i-cant-sing]

wAIT so if Rei dies the todorokis would kill us and buried us with this psychos ??? OR WORSE they will buried us ALIVE next to her ?? I thought that is Rei dies we will be more a peace and being capable to have a life more easy and less able to give us traume

No, in fact the day Rei dies is the day your life turns for better (not completely normal, but better for sure). Not only would they bury Rei in a graveyard far far away, but they would also never ever visit her again! Grave robbers can do whatever they want!😃 AND Enji and the fam would immediately leave the house of horrors and move to a new home!

Sure, they're still yanderes and still have a bunch of rules that you must follow, but there will be no more physical punishments, thatsvfor sure. And even when you do mess up, like sneak out to meet friends or skip a meal or two, Enji is very merciful. I mean, all you have to do is give him those big doe eyes and mumble an apology and his heart melts. He can never be mad at you🥺

I think that even Dabi would turn... softer. Rei was a major enabler to his "playful teasing" that was just borderline abuse, but with her dead and no one to defend him against Enji, Natsuo and Shotou's wrath, he has to play nice or else he won't get to see you at all.

I think the only one who u should be afraid of is if Shotou gets Momo as a gf and she becomes a yandere for u too and she's honestly just a mini Rei in the making, only worse because she has a family and resources to back her up insanity (that she masks in front of everyone).

And I think another yandere to be afraid of would be... Overhaul? Maybe, I'm not sure and I need to take a shower rn so I can't ponder to much over this. Maybe if Kai kidnaps you and his obsession with keeping you "pure" physically and mentally takes over, then he could be a yandere to be very very afraid of.