#but who was he announcing his arrival to?

[my-castles-crumbling]

jealous - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 434

Regulus wasn't sure why he still showed up that night. Rage and confusion was coursing through his system and his mind was so full of conflicting emotions that if felt like a storm was going on behind his forehead. But still he sat, knees pulled to his chest, and waited for James Potter to arrive at their usual spot.

"Alright, Reg?" was James's only way of announcing himself. And immediately, Regulus took his anger out on the unsuspecting Gryffindor.

"Spectacular," he deadpanned, huffing and rolling his eyes. "As are you, I imagine, after spending the day with Lockheart."

James froze for only a moment, levelling him an incredulous look, before stepping forward to try to meet his eyes. Regulus turned away. "Reg. What're you on about? I-"

"It's quite alright, Potter. I'm sure you had a lovely time. And who am I to judge if you see one person in the day and another in the evening?" Regulus muttered, voice cold as ice.

But James took another step closer. "I-"

"Really, I should count myself lucky!" he went on, fires of jealousy burning bright in his veins. "At least I'm not the warm-up act!"

"Reg-"

"Then again, maybe you decided he's good enough to be seen with in public? Meanwhile, you can only see me behind closed doors?"

"Reg, I-"

"I mean, you out to go back to Evans! She's picture-perfect! Everyone approves of her. Or are you still with her and I'm just-"

"Regulus!"

He stopped talking, panting a bit, the pain of holding back tears making his head hurt. Arms crossed, he finally met James's gaze. "What?" he spat vehemently, heart beating so rapidly he could barely discern the pattern.

James moved so their chests were pressed together, his arms pulling Regulus close. "I am not with Lockheart. We were assigned to do a project together. I think he's an annoying prick."

Regulus deflated a bit at that, melting at James's fierce expression, at the way his hand moved to cup Regulus's cheek.

"And I'm not with Lily. I'm not with anyone! I- I don't know what this is with us, but this is all I want. I've just thought you didn't want it! That you were just...I don't know...having fun, or-" James sighed, eyes full of anguish. "I thought you didn't care."

Regulus frowned, fear flooding through him as he realized his vulnerability. "I-I don't."

The other boy let out a small chuckle. "Well. You should know. I do. Quite a lot. Okay?"

Oh, how Regulus wanted to kiss him. "I guess that's alright," he murmured, before pulling their lips together.

[burrowdarling]

A Magical Surprise

Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!

Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader

Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement

Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.

In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 

You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.

Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 

After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 

You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.

“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.

“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 

After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.

“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.

“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.

You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 

You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 

Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.

“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 

“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.

“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.

As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 

When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 

“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 

Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.

“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 

“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.

“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.

“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.

“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.

“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Family Secrets ⭑

Masterlist

A/N: (s)creaming-

Request: No

Pairing: Perv!Aemond x Niece!reader

Warnings: NFSW, +18 mdni, male mastrubation, aemond fr being a nasty perv be warned no but like fr, female mastrubation/pillow humping, making out, dirty talk in high valyrian, p in v sex and creampie.

Summary: Aemond finds it hard to control his sick desires for his niece and can't help but play with her.

Word count: 5k

The sea waves crashed against the side of the large Targaryen fleet, nerves flowed through you at every shake of the wooden planks. Usually a voyage on the sea didn’t scare you in any way but the windy and stormy morning made it a lot less pleasant. Your brothers however didn’t seem to mind, the clinging of their swords ringing through the air.

They loved to practise whenever they could, and if you didn’t feel so unnerved by the weather you would’ve joined them. You were glad to see one of the servants coming towards you with a flagon of wine. Raising your cup she swiftly filled it with the red liquid. Sipping on the strong dornish wine, you tried to focus on anything but the assault of the waves.

The dragon calls could be heard above, Caraxes, Syrax, your own dragon, Vermax and Arrax soared along the ship. The walls shielded you from the sight of them though. The amber glow from the candles filled the darkened royal cabin, secluded on the quarterdeck of the ship. 

The dark clouds shielded the sun from shining its warmth on the waves of the sea and so even on the ship it was quite chilly. But nothing ran a shiver up your spine more than your family's return to King’s Landing. You didn’t understand the need for it but you didn’t have the nerve to tell your mother that.

The future queen was filled with dread herself, you noticed. Word had reached Dragon Stone from Alicent that King Viserys was in a bad condition and even though they had their differences, she felt like a reunion between father and daughter would do her husband some good.

And so the morning after the raven arrived, you had set sail. You wondered how your family was doing, but with the likely chances of this whole visit ending badly, you wished you could only wonder. But there was no turning back now as you looked out the small window and The Red Keep came into view.

And so it was only about half an hour later when your weakened legs stepped onto the shores of King’s Landing, a coach and some members of the King’s Guard waiting for you. Following your mother and Daemon, with your brothers behind you, a hand reached out to help you inside.

The rattling coach did not help calm you as you anticipated the whole ordeal, your mother spoke softly with Daemon about sending for maester Gerardys and your brothers both silently stared out the window. Everybody was tense, the unspoken past lingered in the air. It was only six years ago that your sweet younger brother Luke, took Aemond’s eye. 

Even though a little boy like him had no idea what he had done, it was still a grave wound that cut the family in half. What only made the situation worse was the bullying Aegon had led, making it seem like Luke had done it on purpose. Your uncle and yourself were never necessarily friends either, but at the least friendly with each other.

But who could blame him for hating all of you from that moment on? No one. It was only fueled by Alicent as well, her own spite for her step-daughter and her bastards burning inside her. Alas after all these years, you would have to face each other again. 

After what seemed ages you finally arrived within the courtyard of The Red Keep, the door of the coach opened and your mother stepped out as a shrill voice announced her, Daemon followed and so did you and your brothers. There, only a few paces in front of the coach were Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Otto and three of the small council members. 

Your mother went first to greet them, Daemon by her side, hand on the hilt of his sword. Dragons could be heard and seen flying in circles above you, it gave you comfort that your own dragon was close, if something were to happen. You took a deep breath and followed with your brothers to greet Alicent, Otto and your uncles and aunt. It was awkward enough and thank the gods over quickly.

When you were led inside, nostalgia was the last thing you felt as you peered over your mother’s shoulder. All the Targaryen heraldry had been replaced, all with stars of the faith of the seven. You knew Alicent was quite religious but never had you thought she would dare such an insult. 

You could already hear the grumbles of Daemon in front of you, and you shared a look with Jace and Luke. You were all led to a more familiar place, the dining hall where you would share some food together at the start of the afternoon. You were glad when your place was between your brothers, it felt safer. A buffer of sorts. 

Servants filed in with various fruits, wines, breads and spreads for you to indulge in and it became a little less tense when there was some food to chew on. Since you had grown quite the appetite from the horrendous voyage here, you gathered some of your favourites on your plate and shared some quiet conversation with Jace and Luke.

It was better to keep them distracted and apart from Aemond, who sat at the other end. After a while, Alicent rose from her seat, cup in hand. “I wish to give a toast, to the Princess Rhaenyra. The circumstances of which we have gathered here are grim, but nevertheless it is a pleasure to receive you, and your family. To the princess.” She uttered, a bit too appropriate. 

Everyone raised their cups and took a sip, it was all very stale and tense. But you could tell that especially Aegon and Aemond tried to keep as quiet and ‘nice’ as possible. Helaena seemed almost out of it and Otto kept to himself. It was just Alicent who engaged in some polite conversation with your mother and Daemon, but always about the king.

It was quite dreadful, but when everyone seemed finished, the children were excused to explore their old home and get accustomed again, while the adults went to pay a visit to the king. Your heart rose when you realised there would only be guards around to keep an eye on you and your brothers.

Your mother and most importantly Daemon wouldn’t be able to defend you now, if anything happened. Both of your brothers joined your side as you strolled through the halls of the Red Keep. “Luke, I probably don’t have to say this but still, just- watch your back. He probably won’t try anything but I saw the way he looked at us, at you.” You whispered to your right. You noticed the way Luke’s shoulders tensed but he simply nodded. 

“Will you join us in the training yard?” Jace asked, a bit too chirpy. “Maybe I’ll visit you later, I need some air in the gardens, at least I can be certain I won’t bump into our uncles there.” He gave you a soft smile and then took off with Luke to the yard beyond the doors, two guards following them outside.

“Shall I escort you princess?” Ser Erryk asked, joining your side. “Has my mother asked you to keep an eye on me Ser?” He gave you an awkward smile. “Yes princess,” his next words fell to a whisper, “it would be safer.” You only gave him a nod and he stepped back a pace, making sure you still had your own space.

When you stepped outside, the sun had finally made an appearance. A quiet sigh left your lips and the smell of flowers and various plants filled your nose. It was almost the only place left untouched by Alicent and her stars. You strolled through the gardens, took in all the flowers and birds. Even the beautiful butterflies that were almost magically flying around.

A while later you stumbled across a bright ladybug resting on the leaf of a bush. You admired it for a while, having no idea someone was also admiring you... 

Aemond’s POV

He was quite grateful the strong bastards kept to themselves. As soon as he had entered the training yard, in search of Criston Cole, the both of them left as soon as they caught sight of the common louts admiring the training weapons. Only a brief look was shared and Cole joined him to turn back inside. 

“It is an insult to us, their presence alone. I can come to terms with the fact they live in my ancestors castle far away from us, but them being here now-” Aemond got cut off by Cole. “It is repulsive, them being here. But the best we can do is keep our distance, only look in their direction or even speak to them when absolutely necessary.” 

Aemond nodded, “Fucking mongrels, the girl is lucky to have silver hair or they would have her head the second her arse sat on the throne. But who knows, after my sister is dead, what will become of my niece?” He smirked, before turning towards his own chambers. His only place of safety and solitude.

Only he got distracted when he passed a window that overlooked the gardens. There she was, the lucky girl. To Aemond’s displeasure, she looked almost ethereal. The now softened wind breezing through her long silver curls, the sun making her hair almost glow. Her purple eyes inspecting a nearby bug or butterfly he would imagine. 

What made his mouth turn even more sour was where his eye almost naturally shifted to. Her body. She had rather matured and was only two years younger than him, her body now...more grown. Beautiful hips, tits that bulged slightly out of the top of her bodice. Long fingers adorned with rings, a necklace resting on her chest. 

He scolded himself for even stopping in his tracks in the first place. Her Valyrian features linger in his mind as he resumes to his chambers. Once there he tried to distract himself with some studying. He could hardly focus on the words, when her tits kept reappearing in his mind. Then it only got worse, his mind drifted off while he sat at his desk. 

Cock swelling alive at the thought of ripping that gown off her, her nipples would harden through her shift because of the breeze, her curves on better display through her smallclothes. But he would rip that off too, display her nakedness for all to see. Then he would get her on her knees, mouth open, tongue out and ready for him.

His cock was now pulsing, the outline of it extremely visible through his pants. He swiftly undid them and already found that precum stained his breeches. He palmed his cock and hissed at the sensitivity, he loved to wait a longer period between pleasuring himself, knowing that the sensation would be far better.

Even though he wanted to wait just one more day, he couldn’t help himself; he was way too aroused. He started to softly tug the skin over the head of his cock, face contorted in pleasure, a grunt left his lips. Fuck it felt good. He didn’t care what anyone would think, all that filled his mind was his pretty little niece.

Seven hells, the way she would gag and tear up around his cock as he fucked his cock in her mouth. Not giving a shit that they’d be out in public, gods she would probably touch herself too, the little whore she is. He could imagine it all too well, the way her tongue would glide over his sensitive skin. Would she know to lick his slit? Suck on his balls to give him even more pleasure? Even if she did not, he would teach her, corrupt her.

He could feel himself get closer and closer, tugging on his cock faster, his loud breathing filled his chambers, his groans bouncing off the walls. He moved his free hand to massage his stones, a whine leaving his lips at the added stimulation. Imagining it was her. With only a couple more tugs and firmer fondles on his balls, ropes of cum painted his thighs, hands and some on the cold stone floor.

He jerked himself a bit more, to fully empty his satiated balls until he got too sensitive, before fetching a rag to clean his hands and the floor up. Opting for a change of pants either way. Then an idea came to his mind, a sick and disgusting idea. He grabbed his cum covered pants and rolled them up to disguise the item.

He knew exactly what chamber she resided in, it was one of the chambers that was connected to the secluded and utmost secretive halls that Maegor created. And so he moved one of the books in the library, almost no one remained in the halls as it was already close to supper so he had free reign. 

The book allowed for a door to open, hidden as just another bookshelf and Aemond stepped inside, even just the thought of what he was about to do made excitement fill his chest. He used the torch he fetched off one off the walls in the hallways to navigate the dark secret corridors. 

His cum soiled pants still clutched tightly in his hands as he let the flame guide him, soon enough he was certain he had reached the right wall. He opened the small wooden door and entered a small and short hallway, a wooden screen blocking his way, but he discovered he could open it slightly and peer inside, only to be met with a thinner tapestry. 

And pleasantly sensed he could see through the fabric art that hung inside her chamber, and as if the gods had willed it so, she was still out. Her bed was on the opposite side of the room and his mind only filled with more perverted ideas as he realised he could watch her here at night. A new pastime he could enjoy, and she would have no idea.

Placing the torch in an empty holder in the small hallway. He moved the screen and tapestry to the side and strolled over to her bed. He could feel his cock swell alive again as he placed his pants on her bed, not fully spreading it out yet. He wanted to watch her unfold them, and question what the stickiness on it was.

Satisfied with his work, he was certain she must return soon to freshen up before supper. He knew ladies always did. So he left her chambers and waited for her behind the slightly ajar wooden screen, making sure the tapestry covered it again. His perfect little hiding spot. It seemed as if hours passed yet it was only about twenty minutes when the door opened and she entered.

Your POV

“Would you need the help of a handmaiden, your grace?” Ser Erryk politely asked. You shook your head, “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’ll be quick.” He nodded curtly and closed the door of your chamber behind you. You walked over to the vanity against the wall and found that your household had already unpacked your jewelry, you wanted to change your earrings and necklace for a nicer pair and then would head right to supper. 

When you had finished changing them out, you felt a weird sensation. You peered around the room but of course no one was there, right? You blamed the long morning for your weird feelings but then spotted something on your bed. Has one of the servants readied something for you? You walked over to your bed to find out what it was.

It was a black fabric, leather, and looked like what seemed to be pants. Your face twisted in confusion and grabbed it to unfold them and confirm your suspicion. Further confusion washed over your face as the pants were not only for men but they were dirty. Was this some twisted joke? 

You quickly let go of it and it fell to the floor, you thought of fetching a maid to get it out but then thought against it. What if they thought you had a man in here and your innocence was ruined? It was too big a risk, then your eyes shifted to the fireplace. Filled with disgust you grabbed the leather pants by the end of the leg and dragged it to the flames, throwing in the pants.

The room filled with an uncomfortable smell of the charring leather and you hurriedly went outside, Ser Erryk trailing behind you as you made your way to the dining hall.

Aemond’s POV

His hand undid the laces of his pants as he watched you eye the black material with caution. Palming his cock as you now dropped it to the floor with disgust. His lips fell agape as he tugged on his cock, feeling more aroused and sensitive than ever before. Fuck it felt even better then the very first time he mastrubated. 

He felt his release near when you had thrown the soiled pants in the fire, the smell of burning leather somehow turning him on even more. He stifled his groans with his mouth as he jerked himself to release, his cum painted the floor and his hand, as he was careful not to stain his clean pants this time. 

He cleaned his hand up with his own mouth and left the floor for what it was. He moved his now soft cock back in his breeches. Lacing his pants up again, he started his walk to one of the hallways of the Red Keep, he kept his ear to the unassuming door and heard nothing. He found the small servants hallway empty and quickly made his way to the dining hall.

Your POV

Heads raised as Aemond walked in, a soft satisfied smile on his face. “You're late.” Otto spoke. “I had matters to attend to.” He replied coldly before taking his seat. You avoided his gaze as you could feel it on you and continued picking at the rabbit meat before you. The sticky pants had never left your mind.

Supper was not so much different from your shared meal earlier, still polite conversations and the table almost split in half. But this time your eyes kept glancing back at Aemond. Why was he so content all of a sudden? Maybe he just had a good training in the yard with Cole, as you heard they spent a lot of time training together.

You decide to ignore it and finish the remainder of your meal, before long you were excused once again, and this time decided to head straight to your chambers. A bath and a good book afterwards would calm you. And so it did, after a nice hot bath and slipping into a fresh clean nightgown, you had read a bit of your new found book and lulled into a deep sleep, but still Aemond’s eye felt like it never left you.

The following days were filled with garden visits, sowing work with Helaena and some other ladies of court and avoiding your 'green' family at all costs. But much to your surprise it seemed Alicent and your mother got along pretty well, which could only be bad for you. 

Happy memories of King’s Landing never left your mind at the cold and stormy island of Dragon Stone, but now you missed it and you missed your dragon. So on the fourth day after your arrival, you headed to the dragonpit along with Jace and Luke. You felt like you could stay on dragonback forever, with your brothers flying close to you but the sun was setting and it was time to head back.

After a meal shared with just your brothers as the three of you were too late for supper, you found yourself back in your chambers. But not without some entertainment, one of the ladies of court was a pleasant company, and you felt relief wash over you as her laughter and humorous jokes fell on your ears. 

You were the same age and shared similar personalities, her father was a member of the small council and so she had the pleasure of the Red Keep’s walls protecting her, as well as learning all the gossip and the secrets, which she gladly shares with you. And so she shared all she knew, of how horrible a marriage Helaena and Aegon had, how their children were so unhappy and of putting. 

But then she said something that really caught your attention. “I heard one of the maids the other day, she said she was certain she could hear prince Aemond, well- how do I put this, having… fun? With himself? If you catch my meaning.” She giggled. Your mouth fell open and a loud laugh left you. 

“I do catch your meaning!” You laughed, she couldn’t help but laugh too. You couldn’t believe it, you never knew men did that too. Your knowledge went as far as that they used whores when they had urges. You thought only women did it, since many men didn’t care about women’s pleasure. 

She filled you in on much and more, about how many were certain Aegon has a thing for unflowering maidens and how Larys Clubfoot had an obsession with feet. Much to your dismay, it had grown late and she sadly had to go to her own chambers. As you said your goodbyes, you couldn’t help but feel it again. Like someone was watching you. 

You shook off the feeling and called for your handmaiden to ready you for bed. She took down your hair from your beautiful braids that day, helped you undress and bathe. Then she waved your hair in a single braid and helped you into your nightgown. When she left, you slipped into bed, however tonight, sleep could not find you.

You went over the day, as you usually did when you couldn’t sleep. But your mind kept hanging on to what your new friend said, Aemond pleasuring himself. You tried to think back on your flight today but you couldn’t help it. Why was the thought so erotic to you? You shouldn’t think about your uncle this way but still, your hand snaked down between your thighs.

Your cunt throbbed with desire, and you lifted your ass a bit to lift up your nightgown, as it was a hotter day, you had nothing underneath. Your fingers caressed your folds and you couldn’t help the whimper falling from your lips. But it wasn’t enough, you craved more. Then something occurred to you, you shoved the blankets off you and grabbed your pillow. 

You knelt on the bed and placed the pillow between your thighs, nerves flowing through you as well as excitement. When you thought the pillow was well placed on the long side of it, you sank down on it and leaned forward a bit. When you felt the position was good, you experimentally grinded your clit against it.

An uncontrollable moan left your lips and you hoped Ser Erryk hadn’t heard anything, you stilled for a moment but nothing happened, so you resumed. You rolled your hips against the pillow again and you allowed for soft whines to leave your lips. The rough but soft enough fabric against your clit had your mind dazed.

You humped the pillow like a bunny in heat, your clit getting the perfect stimulation from your pillow. Soft moans left you as you chased your release and you couldn’t help but imagine your dear uncle. So you let it consume you and let your desire for him flow through you. It made you burn with arousal and you imagined you were humping his lap instead. 

It didn’t take long for your peak to overcome you, and you frantically humped the pillow as you were near. The bed creaked with your wild movements and you couldn’t help but moan his name, you were so so close. With a louder whine of ‘Aemond, I’m cumming uncle!’ Your orgasm exploded and your thighs clenched the pillow between them hard. And with a few more grinds, you let yourself fall to your side, mind completely fogged and in bliss.

Then a loud scratch of wood on stone, pulled you out of your daze. You gasped and quickly pulled your blankets over yourself to cover your nakedness. Your eyes were met with Aemond’s single one as he emerged from behind the screen, he walked over to the foot of your bed.

“W-what are you doing here? Get out, at once, get out.” You stammered. But he just smiled. “Is that what you wish? I could give you far more pleasure than your pillow ever could niece.” Your face fell at his words and you held your breath as he came over to the side of your bed. “I heard what you and your little friend talked about, and I bet that it turned you on, didn’t it.” 

It was hard to deny since you just came with his name on your lips but you couldn’t speak. Frozen in shock. “Hm. Don’t worry, I think about you too, when I’m having fun with myself.” He smiled. Realisation dawned on your face. “The pants.” Aemond grinned. “A little gift from me, did you like it?”

You couldn’t help but feel wet at the thought that they were from him, but you quickly reprimanded yourself. It was wrong, not only him being here but everything about this was wrong. “Oh come on, you moaned my name so sweetly just now. Don’t you want your Kepus to actually pleasure you?” You could only shake your head. 

“Aemond- no, no it’s wrong. We can’t.” He chuckled in response. “Are we going to ignore that your mother is married to her uncle? So how is it wrong? You are mine. And I will have you.” He then raised his knee and climbed on your bed, but you made no move to run from him. Too excited to see what he would do next. “I see you are staying put, you can say no all you want, but I know how much you want me, as much as I want you.” 

“Ivestragon nyke, gaomagon ao gīmigon īlva muña ēngos?” Tell me, do you know our mother tongue? You nodded, “Gaoman Kepus.” I do uncle. “Sȳz riña.” Good girl. Aemond smiled. Then his hand moved to the edge of your blanket which you were still using to cover yourself. He pulled it off you and let his eye roam over your naked form.

“Fuck.” He whispered, he was already wet in his pants due to the amount of precum that leaked out of him at the sight of your humping, but now he couldn’t wait. “Gaomagon ao pendagon kostā gūrogon nyke? Kostagon mazemā aōha Kepus?” Do you think you can take me? Can you take your uncle? You knew the weight of his words but desire and lust clouded your senses, your will to refuse.

“Kessa, Nyke jorrāelagon ao sīr olvie Kepus.” Yes, I need you so much uncle. He hurriedly unlaced his pants at your words and took his cock from his breeches, stroking himself at the sight of your tits. But he was a gentleman and wouldn’t treat you like a whore. So he fully undressed, and crawled on top of you. 

“Vūjigon nyke tala.” Kiss me niece. You lifted your head to meet his lips, you gave him a peck but that did not satisfy him, he pulled you back and kissed you with greed. His lips harshly moving against you, his hand then massaged your breast, making you gasp against his lips. Then his tongue invaded your mouth.

His hand moved to your cunt and he let his finger inside. He let go of your lips so that the both of you could catch your breath. “Still wet for me aren’t you, so warm and slick.” He groaned, retreating his finger to grab the base of his cock instead. “Kostilus Kepus.” Please uncle. 

He had mercy, and let the tip of his cock glide through your folds, before carefully prodding in his tip. He moved just the tip in and out of you for a while, letting you get accustomed to the new sensation. But you were never one for patience. “Sepār gūrogon nyke Kepus, gūrogon nyke. Mazverdagon nyke aōhon” Just take me uncle, take me. Make me yours. 

He shuddered at your words, and let his length fully sheath inside of you, the both of you moaning at the stretch and tightness. When he noticed you weren’t in much pain he began to move, rubbing your pearl as he thrusted up into you. You bit your lip to keep as quiet as possible, but the way you uncle was fucking you, made that quite hard.

He groaned and moaned shamelessly. The squelching of your shared juices and the creaking of your bed enveloping your chamber. Soon he sped up his movements and his balls slapped loudly against your ass. Only adding to the sensation. “Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuhon, leghagon ao, mazverdagon aōha iemny hōzigon.” I will make you mine, fill you, make your belly swell. 

You finally audibly moaned at his words and it earned you a groan from him. Your uncle was filling you up so good, who could blame you? His cock pounding into you as he rubbed your sensitive clit made you actually see stars as you squeezed your eyes shut. And for the second time tonight, you moaned his name. Your tight walls clenching around his cock making him pant louder and roll his eye back.

He didn’t stop as you came down from your peak, grinding his hips fiercely against you when he cried out your name, his warm seed filling you. He humped his high out a bit and made sure to fully empty himself. When he had calmed too, he removed his now soft cock out of you, making you wince. “Gaomagon daor zūgagon, kesā daor jikagon arlī naejot Dragon Stone.” Do not fear, you will not go back to Dragon Stone.

[thatonegreyghost]

The Herald's favorite, some whisper, is also his concubine.

The Herald has made it very clear to the Commune that he does not intend to take advantage of his position, that he is their shepard and they his flock, and he will not abuse such power. But this convert is different. Somehow, this one is... special.

Like Salo, he is of Piltover. Unlike Salo, his vhange is more... hectic. He does not bond with the Evolved. He is not one with their minds. He is converted, and yet, he fights.

The Herald laughs when this is mentioned, calling the convert "stubborn". At this, the convert will smile softly, before his glare returns to his face. The glare is ever present on the convert– only when the Herald speaks does it ever leave.

Strange things begin to happen shortly after the convert arrives. Some who work during the night hear the Herald cry out in his sleep. The convert can be seen drawing foreign runes on the walls, then erasing them quickly as he shudders amd cries. Both the Herald and the convert will, on occasion, have their eyes suddenly change color– when this happens, the convert always looks angry, and the Herald always looks afraid.

The Herald assures them nothing is wrong, amd his influence begins to visibly appear on the convert, moreso than before. Fingerprints where the Herald has touched him, glowing lightly, always in very odd places. The convert's chest and thighs are littered with such evidence. Other begin to whisper about how he has been touched by the divine.

Strangely, when the Herald's eyes are gold, those marks blossom into full handprints, conveying precisely what the Herald has been doing. More whispers in the night go around, rumors that this concubine truly is the Herald's most favored. And no wonder, with how beautiful he is.

When asked, the concubine laughs, and his eyes flash a deep brown rather than pale silver of most converts. "Anything for Viktor", he says cheerily, and goes back to smithing. He's a talented smith. The best the Commune has ever seen.

A year after the convert arrives, the Herald summons Salo for a private meeting. Following this, an announcement is made to the Commune– the Herald has been called to seek out people in other lands, to evolve them and bring them into the fray. While he is away, there will be another who guides in his place. In front of all, he passes a piece of power to Salo.

The convert looks nervous, and his eyes stay brown the whole meeting. Were it not for the glorious moment, it might seem odd.

The Herald lauds Salo for his work, and retreats to his den. By the next morning, he and the convert are gone.

They are never seen again.

Complete Devotion (Commune Jayce based on @/FiFlerovium's design from twitter)

Close up of their faces:

[jhdyuiee]

ocean-side

·˚ ༘ pairing: dad! jaehyun x mom!reader

·˚ ༘ warnings/tags: fluff, smut!, oral(f receiving), breeding kink (?), kissing/making out, explicit content!, dirty talk, cursing

·˚ ༘ w.c: 4.2k

·˚ ༘ a.n: hi! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? well i apologize for the abrupt break, november was just a lot, both good and bad, but it’s safe to say i’m back! thank u for waiting, i’m truly sorry having been gone for so long :/ . i promise to be back for the remaining days of the year as i’ve got a lot in store, hehe. thank u for ur continued love and support, i’m just so glad to finally be back doing what i love! i love you all & enjoy this one as it was voted by many! <3

“Here’s a good spot,” your husband says, dropping the large bag that slung on his shoulder, onto the sand as he begins looking for the blanket you made sure to pack.

You all the while hold your sleeping 7-month old daughter, Sienna, in your arms. Your husband, Jaehyun gets a hold of the blanket and gets Yejun, your 5-year old son to help him set it up. Jaehyun then proceeds to set up the umbrella, placing it at a perfect angle. Once he finished, you sat down along with your daughter.

“Can I go into the water now!?” Yejun asks excitedly. He’s been dying to get to the beach, into the water. It was a spontaneous trip, thought of by Jaehyun, but you all nonetheless packed your bags to go. There was honestly no better day to go, today the weather was at a perfect temperature.

“Put some sunscreen on first love,” you said to your son as you looked for the sunscreen inside the bag. “Ask your daddy to help you,” you say, giving Jaehyun the sunscreen.

Yejun walks to his dad, allowing him to put sunscreen all over him. And when he finishes he asks again, “Can I go into the water now!?”

This time however Jaehyun answers in your stead, “wait a little more bud, I gotta put some on too since someone’s gotta go with you.”

Yejun pouts, the boy just too impatient. Once Jaehyun finishes he gets up, adjusting the black swimming trunks he had on. He grabs ahold of his son before turning to you and his daughter.

“We’ll be back,” he announces before crouching down to peck both you and his daughter.

“Be safe!” you shout out as he leaves with Yejun in hand.

You watch as they step into the ocean side, going only up to Yejun’s chest height. You take your eyes off them, turning them Sienna who was still in your arms. Surprisingly she was still soundly asleep, however strangely enough just then she started furrowing her brows and trying to open her eyes.

“Oh my goodness,” you say lovingly. She was just so adorable, a perfect blend of you and Jaehyun. While on the other hand, Yejun took after his father both looks and personality.

You peck her cheek, setting her to sit on your lap so that she could also look at her father and dad as they played in the water. They were having the time of their lives by the looks of it, splashing water on each other as Yejun tried swimming away, only for Jaehyun to catch him.

It was then that Sienna started blabbering, sticking her arms out and making grabby hands. You could tell what she wanted, to go join her father and brother.

“We’ll go in a bit baby, let mommy take some pictures first before I forget,” you tell her as you take her in your arms again. Sienna is turned the other way, facing you. You place her down, only for her to start crawling before you capture her and sit her back down. It took a couple more tries since she was so curious but you ultimately managed to snap some pictures of her in her cute little beach outfit.

“Now, let me put some sunscreen on us before we go!” you say tenderly as you grab the sunscreen Jaehyun left on the empty spot where he’d sat.

You make sure your baby is well protected, you too as well, before you head out of the little spot where your family resided. As you head to them, Yejun notices first calling out: “Mommy!”

You smile lovingly at your son whose energy was still at its max. When you arrived, you stood in between the sand and where the waves died. Your husband notices, walking over to you as he pushes the hairs out of his face.

“What’s wrong love?” he asks.

“Nothing, Sienna just seemed to have wanted to join you two,” you informed him.

“Alright, come in,” he says, reaching his hand for you but you don’t take it.

“I- I don’t feel like going in,” you tell him.

“Why, love?”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” you lied.

You had one underneath, one that you’ve never worn before. It was quite small on you though, your post-pregnancy body filling it out. Yeah, you had other swimsuits but those fit even worse since they were quite old. You were left with no other option but this one.

In truth, you were planning to go into the waters with it on but seeing the people near the beach made you rather scared and insecure to take off the long, white sundress on top of it.

“Really?” Jaehyun asks, growing a bit skeptical since you were always on top of things.

“Yeah… must’ve slipped my mind while I was focused on getting Sienna ready,” you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Is that so, I guess you can come in next time,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he reaches his arms out so you could hand him Sienna.

“Be extra careful Jae, don’t play too rough with Sienna in there,” you tell your husband, your mother instincts kicking in.

“Don’t worry love, she’s safe with me,” he says before returning back to the ocean where Yejun waited. He seemed to have said something, a wide dimpled smile on his face when he saw his baby sister in the water as well.

You return back to your family’s little spot and sit down. You watched them as they played in the water, Jaehyun carefully and securely carrying his daughter as she hit her hand against the water, splashing her brother. You smile fondly at the scene, feeling as though this was some sweet dream you never want to part from.

As you take your eyes off your family, you reach inside the big bag again, taking out a book you brought along. You read as your family played, and before you knew it the sun was about to set.

You close your book, taking out the towels as you walk back towards them. “Yejun! Jaehyun! Time to start packing up,” you shout at them. Yejun swims his way to you while Jaehyun carries Sienna back.

“Mommy!” Yejun shouts, jumping up and down in front of you. “Yes, my love?” you ask your overly excited 5-year old. “Today was the best day ever!” he continues to say as you dry him off.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you smiled, wrapping him in the towel. When your husband arrived with your baby she made grabby hands so you could take her. You hand your husband his towel and he hands your Sienna. You take the last towel you had and begin drying Sienna off as you all walk back to where your belongings were.

“Want me to take Sienna with me to wash off at the shower heads?” Jaehyun asks. “Yeah, that'd be great, to hold off until we get home.”

Your husband departs with the kids and a small backpack containing a pair of clean clothes for them that you managed to quickly put together. While they were gone you started packing everything up, putting things back into the big bag and folding back up the umbrella and blanket. You took stuff one-by-one back to the car, and by the time you finished they’d also as well.

“Everything packed?” Jaehyun asks, handing you Sienna.

You nod, walking over to where her carseat was while he opened and closed the door for Yejun so he could get into his.

“You didn’t have to do all that love,” Jaehyun says as he walks over to your side while you strapped your daughter in. He places his hands on your waist and pecks your temple.

“I’m hungry,” Yejun interrupts, causing you two to chuckle.

“We'll stop for food before going home, ok Yejun?” Jaehyun says, stepping away from you.

Yejun nods his head happily, and you finish strapping your baby in. Then you and Jaehyun go into your respective seats before driving off for some food.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The front door unlocks, Jaehyun opens it and steps aside to let you and a sleeping Sienna go in. the lights turn on, illuminating your home. You watch as Jaehyun steps in, he too with a sleeping child, Yejun.

“Wake him up so he could clean up with you while I take care of Sienna,” you whispered. Jaehyun nods, trying his best to gently wake up his son who just grumbles, fisting Jaehnyun’s shirt with his small hand.

You on the other hand start heading upstairs to the bathroom in your bedroom as Jaehyun would be using the one connecting Yejun and Sienna room.

You set your baby on the bed while you get everything ready so you could clean her up. It was then when you decided why not go in with her, you’ve had a long day too and a nice bath would solve it.

You took your time, finding the moment spent with your daughter peaceful. And so when you finally finished and dried you two off, putting on her cute bunny pajamas, she fell asleep once more. She must be worn out, you thought.

You carry her back to her room, placing her gently on her crib so she doesn’t wake up. Gently walking, you shut her door softly and walk back to your bedroom. When you arrive you notice Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed.

He looks up when he sees you walking in. You walk towards him, stopping in between his legs. He engulfs you in a hug, his head in your chest and your chin resting on the top of his head. It was nothing sexual, it was warm and peaceful.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, resting his chin on your chest as he tries looking up at you.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling as you lean down to capture his lips.

The kiss didn’t escalate anywhere further, which was a little shocking since you two could never keep your hands off one another. However today in truth was tiring and long, but a beautiful memory.

And so the night ended in bed, his arms around your waist to bring you close to him. It was warm, a warmth that lulled you to sleep.

Bonus!

You’re folding laundry, it’s an oddly peaceful weekend. Probably considering the fact that your children were with their grandparents for the weekend, off to the Orchards. And Jaehyun was somewhere within the house since today was his day off.

“Hey, love do you kno-” Jaehyun says, walking into the bedroom but something catches his eyes and leaves him speechless.

You widened your eyes as the item you were folding: a bikini top. The very same one you wore that day at the beach. Fuck, you internally curse yourself.

“W- When did you wear that?” he questions.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, alternating between lying to him or telling him the truth.

“T- The day we went to the beach,” you said, your words growing quiet.

He strides towards you, taking it out of your hands and scanning his eyes to find the bottoms. When he found them he took them. You didn’t know why he was doing, much less what was going through his mind.

“Put them on,” he says, handing them over to you.

You eye Jaehyun, focusing on the change in his eyes. They were growing hot. You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead you started moving towards the bathroom, not thinking twice before slipping on the bikini. You didn’t look at yourself, fearing you would back out.

As you open the door you see Jaehyun sat on the bed, eyes trained on you. You walk towards him with your arms across your breasts in an attempt to try covering yourself up.

However Jaehyun reaches his arms out to you when you're close enough, taking your hands into his, allowing him to see you clearly now. You could feel your face heat up as his eyes drank you up.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me you were wearing something underneath,” he says, pausing before continuing, “because I would’ve not been able to control myself, with or without the kids.”

You didn’t respond, feeling your mouth unable to open. His hands, his fingers subtly touch your thighs which caused you to slightly flinch. “You’re so cute,” Jaehyun comments as he gets up from where he sat. 

He towers over you, hands now on your neck and jaw to tilt you up. Jaehyun leans down slightly so he’s able to capture your lips. It’s a desire-full kiss unlike the sweet one you two shared a couple days ago. 

You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue begin to play with yours. You could feel when his hand grasped the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper into his mouth. The kiss grew intenser with every passing second, and your mind became hazier too. You could only focus on him and his subtle touches around your body, that you never noticed when he got you on the bed.

“Since the kids are gone, you can be as loud as you want love,” Jaehyun whispers when his lips part from yours.

Your breathing was heavy and you tried regaining it back, however Jaehyun wasn’t done yet. His lips went back onto yours for a couple of minutes longer, before they traveled to your cheek and down to kiss along your jaw. From there they went further down onto your neck where he sucked on the exposed flesh, giving you bites occasionally.

“J- Jaehyun!?” you moaned out loud when you feel his teeth nip your neck before licking that spot right back up.

“What is it, my love?” Jaehyun mutters against your skin as he makes his way to your chest area.

He kisses the valley of your breasts, eyeing you from in between them. You groaned, feeling yourself grow wet from the look he had on his face.

“P- Please,” you pleaded.

“Please, what?” he responded innocently as if he had no clue what you were talking about.

“T- Touch me down there,” you boldly responded, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jaehyun just smirks before tearing his eyes off you. “The night is still young, love and plus there are no kids around to interrupt us. Let me take care of you properly tonight,” he says as he brings his head above one of your tits.

You don’t push it further, thinking that he had a point. You two should enjoy yourselves tonight.

You watched as Jaehyun leaned down to kiss your nipple over the fabric before bringing his tongue into the mix. He swirls his tongue around your bud, teasingly flickering it through the swimsuit material. He gnaws at it, causing you to groan. Then he kisses his way to the other one, doing the same to that one until your top was a sloppy, wet mess of his saliva.

Yet, Jaehyun still didn't remove your top and instead kissed his way further down. His mouth was leaving a blazing trail down your stomach. All thoughts of insecurity are erased from your head when you hear him groan against your stomach. The vibration elicited a pleasuring sensation.

“How about it, love��� another one,” he mutters against your stomach where he couldn’t seem to pry his lips out of.

You lift your head slightly, his eyes already meeting yours. “Another child?” you question, sort of confused at his sudden words.

“Yeah, I mean look at Yejun and Sienna, they’re the cutest little children ever. They were made with so much love,” he says, emphasizing the last word.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” you question, feeling there is a hidden secret.

Jaheyun chuckles against your stomach, “you caught me,” he says. Moving his lips again, to your lower region. He grabs ahold of your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He gives a kiss to your inner thighs before diving into your cunt. He kisses your clit, followed along by your slit.

“You're just so hot pregnant, it’s complicated to put into words but I just feel so many emotions seeing you pregnant. I especially love it when you cling to me, wanting nothing more but for me to stick it inside you.”

Your eyes widen, face growing hot. There was no denying, you were all over him during both your pregnancies. When you had a husband like Jaehyun, who wouldn’t want to pounce on him.

“Cat got your tongue?” he mutters against your cunt, causing you to jerk against his face.

He sticks his tongue out, licking your cunt up through your bikini’s bottoms. He stayed a second or two longer on your clit before dragging his tongue back down. He alternates between pecking, sucking, and licking your cunt. You even unconsciously started grinding against his face, wanting more and more the further he continued.

“G- Give me another child, J-Jaehyun.”

The words left your mouth as you lost yourself in the pleasure. There’s no harm in another one, right? Oh god, just the thought of how he’ll handle you tonight caused you to get more turned on, grinding just a bit faster.

You faintly feel his lips smile before coming to kiss your clit. “I love you,” he says before using his teeth to pull apart the string holding your bottoms. Once untied and removed, he opens your legs again. He could see your wetness as it dripped out of your cunt.

Prying your lips open, he drinks up your wetness before inserting his tongue inside. You arched your back at the sensation, having been a long time since you felt it inside you. He rests it against your gummy walls, using the tip of his tongue to play alongside your walls. His breath, too, created a pleasuring sensation against your clit. You bucked your hips, wanting him deeper. 

He thrusts his tongue inside you before taking it out, the loss of sensation causing you to whine. He devours the remnants that seemed to escape, drinking you up and making sure not a single drop goes to waste.

He isn’t done yet though, he spits on your cunt. Then with one of his thumbs, he gathers it at your clit. He doesn’t take his thumb off, continuing to rub your clit as he takes two fingers from his other hand to tease your entrance. He puts them in half way only to pull them back out. Each time leaving you to groan in frustration.

He stops his games, finally thrusting his fingers inside you. You moan out his name as you feel him scissoring them inside you, opening your cunt right up for him. Then deciding it was time to switch things up, he replaced his thumb with his mouth. His mouth engulfing your clit.

You moved your hips, arching your back as you tried to fuck yourself with his fingers inside you. They reached you deep enough to cause you to start pulsing around them. You could feel your high easily coming to you. A high that has been long missed since you gave birth.

He bites on your clit, working his fingers even faster inside you. And as much as he’d like to continue teasing you, edging you, he couldn’t continue his desire any longer. He wanted his cock inside you, to feel you warmly wrap around him.

His pace doesn’t falter, and never does his tongue and mouth on your clit. It was only then when he pressed against a sweet spot and sucked on your clit that you came. You came hard, coating him in your juices. You're breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying to gather yourself. It was only the beginning and you were already gone.

Jaheyun stayed on your cunt for a while longer, making sure to savor all of you. When there seemed to be none left he got back up on his feet. He’d been crouched down the entire time.

You hazily watched as he removed his sweats, tee, and boxers. His reddened, hardened cock came into full display. It leaked with his pre-cum.

He opens your legs up again, sliding his cock along your cunt so he could coat himself in your juices that continued to flow. While his hands grabbed your legs, holding them bent over your upper body. Your thighs squeezing your breast.

And once he had you in the desired position, he began entering you. His tip stretched you out before everything else did as well. You were being filled, his cock fitting snugly inside you cunt.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You always feel so good,” he continued saying in a sultry tone, leaning down to kiss you while he entered you.

Once it was all in he began thrusting into you while holding your legs against you. You feel him reaching your g-spot with every thrust, he’s deep within you. You feel his balls slapping against your ass with every rough thrust he gives you.

“S- So de- deep! I- I love it,” you moaned out loud, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

“Love what baby?” Jaehyun questions, bringing one leg down so he could angle you slightly. This new angle hits you into another world.

“Y- You! Your co- cock,” you replied rather seductively.

His chuckles erupt into the room, “aren’t you honest… I love it, my sweet wife deserves a reward for her honesty,” he says.

He leaves no room to talk as he slams into you, going at a godly pace. You clenched and pulsed around his cock, almost nearing your second high of the night. Jaehyun gets the message with the way you feel around his cock. So he lifts one leg up, draping it on his shoulder. Using his thumb to rub against your swollen clit, and not much time passing before you met your high.

You gushed around Jaehyun, coasting both his and his cock. He enjoyed the view, it only edged him on to meet his high, to cum in you, impregnant you.

“Take it all, fuck,” he groans as his cock twitches before painting your walls white.

He lets go of your legs, causing them to fall onto the bed. Tears slid down your face, your mouth blabbering random words. Jaehyun pulls out, not done just yet. He swiftly flips you over onto your stomach.

“Lift your ass up for me baby,” he instructs you whilst slapping both ass cheeks roughly, causing you to jerk from the sensation. You wasted to second thoughts, complying to what he asked of you. Using his hands on your hips to drag you a bit back.

You feel his cock as it tries gathering his cum so he could fuck it right back into you. Then in a matter of seconds, he’s in you again.

His fucks you with his hands on your hips, as he brings you back onto his cock. He keeps his eyes open, admiring your body, the body he couldn’t wait to see pregnant. God, just the thought of seeing you all swollen again riled him up all the more. He thrusts into you, grabbing your arms so he could pull them back fuck into you roughly.

Jaehyun lost control, his mind infiltrated with the purpose of getting you pregnant. “Cumming already baby? Got you feeling sensitive, didn’t I,” he says but your mind doesn’t process it. He continues as your cunt tightens around him, you were so close, so so so so close. 

Dropping your hands, he works his way down your back to untie your top so he could touch your tits. He gropes them, squeezing them and imagining them leaking with milk again. He pinched your nipple, groaning, just then you came.

You incoherently moaned into the comforter as you came. And just like before Jaehyun didn’t stop, only quicking his pace. Your tight cunt and thoughts of another child were more than enough to get Jaehyun to cum inside you again.

He groans, cumming inside but still maintaining his thrusts, though now slow. He needed to make sure his seeds were fucked well in deep, well in enough to get you pregnant.

Once he felt like his seed was fucked well inside, he parts from you. You laid face down, going in and out of consciousness. It’d been awhile since you two got this wild. And now that it seemed over, Jaehyun’s demeanor changed. The lusting man from before was replaced by a loving husband.

He kisses you softly, scoping you up in his embrace so he could carry you into the shower. He gently cleans you up, his heart melting at your sleeping state. “You’re too precious,” he whispers, followed by an “I love you.”

And so once you two were cleaned and dried off, he carried back onto the bed. He made sure to wrap you up well before hitting the sheets himself. His arm wraps around you, feeling his warmth on your back. The night went by peacefully and beautifully.

However the next morning, right before the kids were set to come, you two went at it again like a pair of rabbits again. Well, at least now it’s safe to say you're going to be welcoming baby number 3, one that was made with excessive love.

© jhdyuiee

2024. 12. 21

final a.n: you've reached the end, yay! a bit behind the scenes on this story, it was written and rewritten more than 5 times before this ended up being the final draft... not very fun (also it was originally named: where happiness lies). nonetheless, i hope u all can enjoy the finalized version, i'll be back veryyyyyyyyy soon ;) . good night (it's 3 am right now >_< )!

[4ranghaes]

Hiya!! Could I request christmas as parents with Taesan?

day 7 ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ christmas as parents!

han taesan x reader [fluff, fem!mum!reader, dad!taesan]

10:53 - “baekho-ya!” you exclaimed, “come, quickly!”

baekho’s head snapped in your direction, where you stood crouched beside his little sister. he ran from where he was bothering his dad in the kitchen.

“what, mummy?” the five-year-old said, placing his hand on your shoulder once he arrived at your side.

“look, it’s your favourite christmas decoration!” you gasped, pointing to the winnie the pooh ornament you’d bought when baekho was just a baby, for one of your first christmases at your new house.

you and seulgi were in the midst of decorating a tree (or you were, while your one-year-old daughter hindered under the appearance of help), but you and taesan had many conversations this year about how your little boy was growing up too fast and, if anything, losing the magic of christmas already.

baekho fought a smile, scoffing at your words. you smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist, “don’t you want to hang it on the tree?”

baekho looked back at taesan, who was now coming to join you.

“is that still his favourite? baekho’s a big boy now, remember,” taesan offered, “i like this one.”

he reached down into the box, pulling out a polar bear.

baekho watched with interest taesan organising the decoration on the tree. you smiled up at your husband, who then took your daughter in his arms, showing her the decoration (from a safe distance).

“well i like this one,” you said, digging around until you found the very first ornament you’d bought for baekho’s first christmas: a family of snowmen, with each of your names listed on each one. you nudged your son with a wink, “good job seulgi can’t read yet, hey?”

he giggled as you placed the decoration on the tree, studying it for a moment afterwards. he then reached down, gentle hands picking up the winnie the pooh bauble, “hmm. i think this is still my favourite, actually dad. be– because there’s a tiger here, and i’m tiger.”

you smiled, kissing your son’s head as you stood up, “nice. go on then, put it on the tree.”

taesan smiled down at his son as he rocked back and forth with seulgi in his arms, he didn’t want to push it too much, but he was happy to know his son wasn’t void of christmas spirit just yet, “hey bud, have you ever seen home alone?”

baekho looked at his dad; who, although he would scarcely admit it, was his hero. he shook his head.

taesan gasped, nodding, “it’s one of the bests. but it’s based at christmas, is that alright?”

baekho giggled, before nodding.

“yeah? i thought for a moment you didn’t like christmas,” taesan said, placing seulgi back down on the floor as the boys busied themselves with decorating the tree, baekho doing so absentmindedly.

“no! i like it,” baekho announced, in the way that children do about any matter: serious or not, “particu-lar-ly because of seulgi.”

“yeah?” taesan hummed, looking down at his son with intrigue, “why’s that?”

baekho looked at his little sister who was sat on the floor, staring up at the christmas tree lights. he laughed, “she likes it. and–and i was worried that santa wouldn’t know she existed. b-because it was only her first christmas. but she got loads of presents! but–but i was still worried this year, even so, so i added what i think she wanted when i wrote my list.”

taesan’s mouth dropped open, as he nodded, finally understanding why his sport-loving son asked for baby dolls and various baby sensory toys on his christmas list. he thought it’d been a joke.

“hey bud, you don’t need to worry about that!” taesan laughed, checking to see you were watching what your son was saying as you stood in the kitchen, “you know me and mummy are in close contact with santa, right? it’s a privilege you get when you become a parent.”

baekho giggled, taesan just nodding seriously.

“how about you re-write your list then, bud? cause we gave him some ideas, but we didn’t really know what you wanted for christmas!”

baekho nodded shyly, taesan smiling and patting him on the back, “go on, then. seulgi can help me with the tree, can’t you princess? yes!”

[the-dawn-star]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's betrothed

A/N: Hey, I kind of have not gotten Feyd-Rautha out of my mind so here is a thing about him. (And all the fanfictions including him are always smut, which is fine but I want more sfw stuff too). Also, Dune has occupied like 50 % of my thoughts this year and I have so many thoughts about the Dune-show (:

TW/CW: Reader is basically having a panic attack the whole time, murders, arranged marriage.

Getting married had never been the most intriguing idea in my mind. But I had to do this. I was born into a great house and getting married to form an alliance with another house was a centuries long inevitable that most young women of the house had to go through.  

But getting married to a Harkonnen, particularly to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was not something that happens to everyone. But I had been given this role, being his wife, his baroness after his uncle dies at some point.  

I sat on the high balcony of the gladiator arena.  Mother and father sat next to me and on the right side of my father sat the Baron and the rest of the family next to him. My family and I had come to Giedi Prime a few days ago when my engagement was announced to me officially. And somewhere below the arena was my future husband ready to come out and fight, show his power to the thousands and thousands of onlookers.

I picked the edges of my nails. The anxiety and stress hadn’t given me a break since the ship had landed on the colorless planet. My heart hadn’t stopped its overwhelming pounding and with a glass of tea in my hand didn’t stop the shaking. Now the black dress I had been given as a gift by my future husband felt restrictive, especially with the metal jewellery that was brought from home as it was a tradition back home. 

The wedding had been planned to be in a few days and after that my only family and the only way of life that I had known was going to leave. And then I will be alone, alone on this planet with a husband who had rumours of his sadism floating around the known universe.  

I decided to concentrate on my breathing. Not letting the panic override the teachings I had learnt of the Bene Gesserit at home. I let the forced calmness overtake me but even within this state I felt the terror in the back of my consciousness. My eyes glazed over and my sight became unclear but I didn’t mind.

The fighting started as the Na-Baron arrived into the arena and I pushed my years long training past the normal. Feyd-Rautha fought just as well as I had heard. The crowds’ clamour felt like a distant whisper in my state of dissociation. With speed and technique, the future Baron took down his opponents one by one but still clearly showing off the talent he possessed with a blade. The black blood stained the ground but for a reason not known by me didn’t bother me as much as I had expected. 

--- 

The last body fell to the ground dead with his stomach bleeding of blood. The crowd erupted in cheers and I brought myself back to my body in its normal state. My ears rang and as I clapped as did my parents, still clearly disturbed by the cultural change when compared to our home. Father looked like he was ready to retch his previous meals in any second. But I had started to study the Giedi Prime culture as soon as my engagement plans were announced to me. Still, as much as I could learn, I hadn't learnt thousands of years of cultural practices so different from my own, like my parents had expected. 

My future husband made few circles around the arena, raising the audiences’ energy if it was anymore possible. His blades were dripping with blood that showed fully black to the eyes of the eager onlookers. The Na-Baron shoved one of his blades to his belt before circling back to the high seats where his family were sitting next to me and my parents.  

Without a word from anyone Feyd-Rautha dropped to his knee, raising his bloodied blade above his head as if for our box to see.  

Once again, the arena exploded in cheers to the heights I had thought were impossible to achieve.  

“He wants you to accept the engagement, girl.” The Baron’s lazy voice brought you to reality from almost a frozen state for not knowing what was happening. This was the first time the Baron had spoken to me at all, not that I had minded at all. The arena fell into an unexpected silence.  

I stood up with shaking legs, took a step closer to the edge of the box meeting eyes with my future husband. My hands started to shake and I had to squeeze my hands into fists so I could stop them. I nodded uncertainly to my betrothed below on the white sand.  

That tiny nod brought the crowd back to life as Feyd-Rautha rose up before disappearing to the tunnels below the arena where he had come from in the first place. His direction was lost by me. I was too lost in my panic and the work that I needed to do to keep it under my control.  

I let out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. I turned back to my high-born parents. My mother had lost all colour from her face and was breathing even harder than I.  

“My nephew seems to have taken a liking to you, girl.” The Baron’s laughed before leaving with the rest of the Harkonnen family and servants behind him.  

“Maybe this engagement was a mistake...” My mother said in the private llanguage of your great family.  

“Do not speak of such things, wife! This is a great accomplishment for our house!” Father declared.  

My mother and I both knew not to push the topic any further.  

--- 

I had been given my own massive room at Giedi Prime as well as my own servants that were meant to take care of me even after the wedding. For the first time in my short life my servants wouldn’t report all of my movements to my parents. Now all of my movements would most likely be detailed to my future husband if not to the Baron himself.  

On top of the bed was laying one of my gifts from my new home planet. My parents were clear, I needed to acclimate to my new home as fast as possible so, I could please my new family as well as my husband without any home-sickness. At Giedi Prime the clothing didn’t seem to be as meaningful as it had been at home, not that I had anything to complain about. I or my family hadn’t been harmed, I was safe as one could be, I had been told that all that I would want would be given to me without questions, not that I had dared to ask anything.  

I felt the fabric between my fingers. It was rough, thick, heavy, opposite of the silks I had gotten used to at home. But I didn’t mind it, maybe it could warm me in this world so unknown to me. I smiled at the thought.  

A gentle knock woke me from my light daydreaming of my possible warm future.  

“Yes?” I yelled, turning to see one of my servants whose eyes were to the ground. I hadn’t learned their names yet, especially since it felt as if all of them looked so similar. I let go of the fabric, missing the feeling between my fingers.  

“The Na-Baron would like to see you...” I wasn’t sure how much it was a question and how much a demand where my own word did not matter in the slightest. So, I chose to nod without much of a pull to either direction.  

The servant left without waiting a beat and as she left another figure came to my room. This one's name I did remember. Walking through my door was the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my future husband who I was going to be bound to by the imperium's laws.  

I straightened my back if anymore possible and tried to keep my sisterhood training in the forefront of my mind.  

He looked just as terrifying in front of me as he had looked at the arena knives in his hands and blood on his clothes. His hands were tucked behind his back and left more space between us than was necessitated by the rulings of the imperium.  

The door closed behind him.  

“It is an honour to meet you, my lord Na-Baron...” I started making sure not to look at him directly, instead lowering my gaze.  

“No need for such formalities. We are to be married, after all...” He looked deep in thought when thinking of his next words. “You are to be my wife and the future Baroness after my uncle passes...”  

I felt the pressure which was building in the room, the space that I had started to feel was my safe haven.

I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say to him and with this I simply nodded. Feyd-Rautha seemed content with my answer.  

“I have a gift for you...” Feyd-Rautha said as he pulled his hands behind his back. He had a rectangular silver metal box with carvings over it. He took a slow step forward, closer to me. And after seeing I didn’t flee away; he took another step and then another until he was within touching distance of me. I didn’t make a move not wanting to upset the man in front of me.  

He handed the box to me and I took it. Right after getting rid of the box, he hid his hands once again behind his back leaving me unsure what he wanted me to do.  

“Open it.”  

I took a deep breath before opening the box, barely able to do it as my hands shook. I opened it and laid my eyes on the inside. There was a laying a knife, a knife on a deep purple pillow. It was one of those hunting knives. A one that had a curve into it.  

I didn’t take my eyes off of it, unsure what would happen if I were to look at the man in front of me. What was the proper response to this?  

“It is the same blame I used today at the arena, the one I raised for you...” His voice was rough but quiet as if he were unsure of his own acts and words.  

I pulled my eyes off of the knife to face my betrothed.  

“Thank you...” I whispered, my voice weak and almost breaking but my response got an approving nod as a response. 

“Now, I must see my uncle.” 

“Of course...” I closed the box but cradled it in my arms.  

With great care he took my hand to his, pressing a momentary kiss on it before letting go and leaving without another word.  

I was left in my room alone and there I stood for a while unsure of the passage of time. I looked at the box, the carving clearly old. There were stars, forests, plants, snow, all of it as if woven into a one marvelous picture of human talent and craftsmanship that passed even the metal work of your home planet could not replicate.  

“My lady, is something wrong?”  

I turned around to the direction of the sound. The servant from before was standing by my door with shaking hands and anxiety pulsing off of her.  

“Everything is fine... The Na-Baron gave me a gift, that’s all.” I looked at the box once again and opened it, wanting to remember all of those curves in the knife.  

“He gave that to you?” The servant asked as if she needed a confirmation for my words, like she couldn’t believe me so easily.  

“Yes? Is there something wrong with that?”  

“It is an old tradition, giving a knife to the one marrying to the Harkonnen family...” She raised her eyes, giving herself a moment to look at the knife directly. “It is the same knife he used today at the arena... It shows the devotion to their future partner, that they are ready to kill for their spouse.”  

She must have realized that she was telling too much, because her gaze fell back to the floor.  

Now I was the one needing confirmation for her words. “He used this knife today...”  

I closed the box once again. The servant only nodded before leaving the room seemingly as fast as possible.  

I closed my eyes concentrating on my breathing as I let calm waves hit me. I tried to remember, no one had harmed me, even my future husband hadn’t hurt me and was as close to pleasant as most likely possible. Maybe I could survive...  

[misauthor]

𝜗𝜚 Across the Ivy Divide

Chapter one: The First Collision

𓂃 Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader 𓂃

Summary: Across the Ivy Divide follows Luigi Mangione and Jasmine Elise Hart, two fiercely competitive freshmen at UPenn. Initially academic rivals, their mutual disdain turns into reluctant collaboration on a prestigious project. As they clash and connect, they uncover shared vulnerabilities and unexpected chemistry, navigating ambition, personal struggles, and the thin line between rivalry and love.

A/n: My first story ever!

It was a crisp September morning in 2016, the air buzzing with the thrill of new beginnings as the University of Pennsylvania campus welcomed a fresh batch of students. The iconic red-bricked pathways were crowded with bustling first-year students, each armed with dorm necessities and jittery excitement. Among them was Luigi Mangione, dressed sharply in a tailored blazer over a casual polo shirt. His killer smile lit up the faces of every passerby. To anyone observing, he looked like the embodiment of ease—a suave, nerdy frat boy who made being at an Ivy League look effortless.

Luigi, however, was silently waging war with himself. His back throbbed with an almost cruel persistence, a constant reminder of the chronic pain he lived with daily. Still, he walked upright, refusing to let the ache cloud his first day on campus. With a leather satchel slung over one shoulder and an Apple Watch gleaming on his wrist, Luigi approached his introductory robotics lecture.

The engineering building was as grand as he’d imagined, but the moment he entered, he was greeted with a different energy. There she was—Jasmine Elise Hart. She was sitting near the front row, flipping through a sleek notebook that seemed to double as her personal manifesto of organization. Her glossy black hair was swept into a tight ponytail, and her sharp, almond-shaped eyes zeroed in on her notes. Her commanding presence made the entire room feel smaller, and her aura was no-nonsense and intimidating.

Luigi paused for a moment, taken aback. He’d never seen someone so striking yet so formidable. She didn’t even glance his way as he slid into the seat beside her, casually dropping his satchel to announce his arrival.

“Reserved for someone?” Luigi asked his voice light but layered with an undertone of arrogance.

Jasmine glanced up, her gaze as sharp as a scalpel. “Actually, yes,” she replied flatly, but the seat remained unoccupied.

“Guess they’re late,” Luigi quipped, flashing his grin. Jasmine’s expression didn’t soften. “Lucky me,” he added, confidently leaning back in his chair.

The professor entered before Jasmine could deliver the scathing retort forming in her mind, and the class began. For the next hour, Luigi found himself caught between marveling at the intricate robotics diagrams on the projector and sneaking glances at Jasmine. She was furiously taking notes, occasionally furrowing her brow as if she were deciphering ancient code. When the professor asked about computational algorithms, Luigi’s hand shot up first, and his answer was quick and precise.

Jasmine turned toward him for the first time, narrowing her eyes. “You forgot to account for the probability matrices,” she interjected, her tone even but cutting.

Luigi tilted his head, clearly impressed but unwilling to back down. “Fair point. But if you factor in machine learning principles, it balances out.”

Their academic spat earned a chuckle from the professor. “Well, it looks like we’ve got a pair of rivals already,” he mused.

Jasmine rolled her eyes and returned to her notes. Luigi smirked, the flicker of competition igniting something deep within him.

⟡    ֺ۪  　⭒ ݂  ˚

After class, Luigi crossed paths with Jasmine again at the campus café. She was perched at a corner table, sipping a green tea latte while typing on her sleek silver laptop. Luigi, naturally drawn to the challenge she presented, approached her table.

“Mind if I join?” he asked without waiting for a response.

She looked up, visibly annoyed. “Yes, I do.”

“Too bad,” Luigi said, pulling out the chair across from her. “You seemed lonely.”

Jasmine arched a brow, her perfectly sculpted features hardening. “What do you want?”

“To get to know my competition,” Luigi replied, resting his elbows on the table. “It’s rare to meet someone who’s a challenge.”

“I’m not interested in playing games,” Jasmine shot back. “So if that’s your idea of fun, find someone else to bother.”

Luigi chuckled. “Oh, you’re fun, alright. But don’t worry, I’ll keep it professional—for now.”

Jasmine closed her laptop with a sharp click, her patience wearing thin. “You think you’re charming, don’t you?”

“I don’t think. I know,” Luigi replied, his grin widening.

Jasmine leaned forward, her voice low and pointed. “Listen, frat boy. I don’t have time for your little ‘charming nerd’ act. Some of us are here actually to achieve something.”

Luigi raised his hands in mock surrender. “Message received. But I’m not going anywhere, Jasmine.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “How do you know my name?”

Luigi tapped his temple. “Smart guys like me pick up on things. Besides, you’re hard to miss.”

Jasmine scoffed, grabbed her latte, and stood. “Enjoy your delusions of grandeur, Mangione,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she walked away.

Luigi leaned back in his chair, watching her retreat. “This is going to be fun,” he murmured.

⟡    ֺ۪  　⭒ ݂  ˚

The next week unfolded in a flurry of academic battles. In every shared lecture, Luigi and Jasmine seemed to instinctively challenge each other, raising their hands almost in unison whenever a professor posed a question. The rivalry became legendary among their peers, sparking whispered bets about who would outdo the other.

But beneath the surface of competition, their similarities began to reveal themselves. Both were perfectionists, driven by the desire to prove themselves in a world that had placed them on high pedestals. Luigi masked his chronic pain and vulnerability with arrogance, while Jasmine concealed her insecurities about her appearance behind a facade that was not so impenetrable.

One afternoon, they both found themselves in the university library, buried under stacks of books. Jasmine was deep into a paper on astrophysics, while Luigi was coding a prototype for a robotics competition. They sat at separate tables but couldn’t help stealing glances at each other.

Finally, Luigi broke the silence. “You ever take a break?”

Jasmine didn’t look up. “You ever mind your own business?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he shot back, smirking.

She sighed, closing her book with a thud. “Why do you always have to be so… insufferable?”

“Why do you always have to act like you’re above it all?” he countered, his tone softening slightly.

For a moment, Jasmine hesitated. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the faint shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, the stiffness in his posture.

“You’re not as untouchable as you pretend to be, are you?” she said quietly.

Luigi’s smirk faltered for the first time. “Neither are you.”

The unspoken truth hung between them like a fragile thread. For the first time, their rivalry felt less like a battle and more like a bridge—a connection forged in the unyielding pressure of expectations and ambition.

But neither of them was ready to admit it. Not yet.

[shadowcanine]

a deep dive into the raul brasil school massacre.

as always, more information will be below the cut. this post is for educational, research, and awareness purposes only.

On March 13th, 2019, two students walked into their former school- Professor Raul Brasil State School, located in the municipality of Suzano, São Paulo State, Brazil.

The students, 17 year-old Guilherme Taucci Monteiro, born July 5th, 2001, and 25 year-old Luiz Henrique de Castro, born March 16th, 1993, had planned this for well over the better part of a year. It was 9:40 AM, and for the students at Raul Brasil, the day was just getting started. For Guilherme and Luiz, though, they were at the finish line.

Before arriving at the school, the two had shot and killed Guilherme’s uncle at the rental car shop, which he owned; that car shop was also where they stole the car they used to get to school that morning. Monteiro had previously worked for his uncle at this car shop, but had been fired for “petty crimes.”

When they arrived, they were armed with a gun (.38 caliber handgun), crossbows, and axes, as well as molotov cocktails and a handful of small knives. According to those who knew them, the pair had a “deep fascination with Columbine” and hoped to “emulate” it. Friends and former classmates were told about these plans, but claim they “didn’t believe it would actually happen” and those who did believe it kept their mouth shut, “afraid telling anybody would make them a target.”

Taucci and Luiz wanted to prove they could act like Eric and Dylan, the perpetrators behind the 1999 massacre at Columbine Highschool in Littleton, CO. They had goals of being even more well-known than the Columbine killers.

Allegedly, an unnamed 17 year old student was involved in planning the attack- although he was not present at school the day of. Police have asked a judge to issue a warrant for the teens arrest, (but it’s unclear whether or not anything has come of that request, five years later.)

Security camera footage captures Taucci and Luiz walking into the school. Taucci can be seen on CCTV shooting, and hitting several people in the head. Luiz can then be seen following him, attacking wounded, but still alive, students with an axe; “swinging it wildly” through the crowds of students who were attempting to flee the scene.

Luiz aims his crossbow, walking further into the school- and disappearing from the view of security cameras.

It would later be announced that seven people had been killed in the attack- 9 had died in total. 5 students, 1 teachers, and 1 school administrator (who police suspect to be the first to be killed.) 9 people were wounded in the attack, including 7 who were still hospitalized days later. One student was forced to run to the hospital nearby with an axe still lodged in his right shoulder.

After their killing spree, police were quickly closing in. Rather than facing authorities head on, Taucci turned the gun on his partner, Luiz- killing him. He then took his own life.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

why did they do it?

Firstly, Taucci and Luiz were copycats; plain and simple. They wanted the fame and notoriety that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold have.

Rumors did circulate about Taucci being bullied and dropping out of school over it, but sources claim this was pretty much irrelevant to the attack. The bullying wasn’t severe by any means, allegedly it was primarily focused on Taucci’s acne. State officials say the boys never showed any problems during their time in school.

Taucci had been raised by his grandmother, as a result of his mothers “addiction problems.” Taucci is considered the “leader” of the two, as he’s the one who originally formulated the plan. Luiz was described as a quiet kid who kept to himself, which has led the public to believe this was a “leader-follower” type of scenario. If it is, it’s still unclear how Taucci managed to rope Luiz into this. The boys had been friends since childhood, playing video games and visiting the local arcade together.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

was there any criticism after the attack?

As with any tragedy, the public wants to blame the perpetrators- however, if the perpetrators are gone, the public will tend to target the people who made the tragedy possible in one way or another.

Brasil’s former right-wing president, Mr. Bolsonaro, (a president surrounded by accusations of political manipulation, buyouts, and more) had recently passed a law making the acquisition of firearms significantly easier. Gun violence is extremely common in Brasil, though school shootings are relatively rare, with only a handful of documented cases existing in modern times.

Because of this law being passed, many Brazilians blamed him for the tragedy at Raul Brasil. However, many others brought up the possibility of making sure all staff were armed, in order to better protect their students. However, nothing ever really came from this debate, as the law stayed in place, and staff remained unarmed (that we know of.)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Rest In Peace to the victims who tragically lost their lives on 03/13/2019 at Raul Brasil School. Que onde quer que você esteja, a vida o trate melhor do que o tratou esta vida.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

# Hello! Thanks for reading. I’m really sorry this deep dive isn’t as long as my Cokeville one (view here)- I did do my best to find all the information I could, but this case has been pretty hard to find anything on. I also tried to find a memorial photo of the victims to include so I could do a writeup on who they were as people, but I can’t seem to find anything.

# This was requested by somebody, once again- so if you learned something new, you can thank them. If I’m able to find any photos of the victims at any point, or other information that I think should be here, I’ll edit the post to include it.

# I also did add a translation for the first photo, if you click on the alt text you’ll be able to see it. I think adding context to the photos via alt text is probably a somewhat decent idea, so I’m gonna try to do that more! Again, thanks for reading :D

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[novaursa]

Between Pride and Fire (flares)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: stolen crown

- Next part: crossroads

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs @barnes70stark

From Fire & Blood, as recorded by Grand Maester Gerardys, with additions from the fool Mushroom.

The Pyre of Visenya and the Black Queen’s Coronation

On the eleventh day following the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, Dragonstone was shrouded in grief and fire. The stillborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen—named Visenya by her mother—was prepared for the flames, her tiny form wrapped in crimson silk embroidered with the sigil of House Targaryen. Grand Maester Gerardys wrote of the somber ceremony:

"The princess, despite her grief, stood tall as a queen should. The babe’s deformities were concealed beneath her wrappings, though whispers of her dragon-like features could not be stilled. Some claimed the child’s fate was punishment from the gods, others blamed the strain of betrayal, for word of Aegon’s usurpation had caused her labor to come too soon. Yet no curse could ever compare to a mother’s loss, and Rhaenyra’s tears fell as freely as the fire consumed the body of her little Visenya."

Mushroom, always eager to embellish such tales, recounts that the Queen’s sister—Y/N Lannister, née Targaryen—stood at her side, hand in hand, as Ser Jason Lannister and their eldest daughters, Leona and Aemma, looked on. The grief of the moment, according to Mushroom, was punctuated by fire and vengeance. “The pyre lit not only the babe’s remains, but the war itself,” he quipped.

The Arrival of Ser Erryk and the Crown of Viserys

It was on the evening of Visenya’s pyre that Ser Erryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard arrived at Dragonstone, having escaped the treacherous court of King Aegon II. He came to the Painted Table, weary and mud-caked, carrying with him a chest that contained the crown of King Viserys I Targaryen. It was the same crown worn by Jaehaerys the Conciliator, the true symbol of Targaryen rule.

Grand Maester Gerardys recounts the event in detail:

"Ser Erryk, sworn shield of the late king, fell to one knee before Princess Rhaenyra. His voice shook as he spoke: ‘I could not save your father, my queen, but I bring you his crown. It belongs to you by all the laws of gods and men.’ He then placed the crown upon her brow, and at last, the realm had its queen—Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."

The coronation took place in the Hall of the Painted Table, with the lords and knights sworn to Rhaenyra kneeling one by one. Among the first were Ser Jason Lannister and his daughter, Lady Leona, whose presence at Dragonstone had grown all the more significant. Mushroom—ever the sly observer—claimed that as Jason bent the knee, he quipped to his wife, “Lions do not kneel easily, my love, but for you and your sister, I’ll make it look regal.” Whether this was true or not, history does not record.

The Betrothal of Prince Jacaerys and Lady Leona Lannister

Following the coronation, Rhaenyra made her first formal decree as queen. The betrothal of her son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, to Lady Leona Lannister was announced, uniting House Targaryen and House Lannister in a powerful alliance. The decision came as no surprise to those who had observed the growing affection and respect between Jacaerys and Leona, though Jason Lannister’s reluctance had long been whispered of.

Gerardys writes:

"Lady Leona stood beside her father, her golden mask gleaming like the sun itself. When Queen Rhaenyra spoke of her betrothal to Prince Jacaerys, the young woman bowed her head in acceptance, her voice calm and clear as she swore to honor her duty. It is said that Prince Jacaerys looked upon her with admiration, his face alight with quiet joy."

Mushroom, however, could not resist a bawdier telling: “Though Jason Lannister grumbled like a stormcloud, his daughter stood proud, as fierce as a lioness in the dragon’s den. And mark my words—she’ll wear that crown as easily as her mother wore Jason in the hunting woods all those years ago. A steadfast union, they say, for the Lord of Casterly Rock and his lady, who still rumble their chambers like the very dragons of Dragonstone.”

Mushroom’s allusions to the infamous hunt that celebrated Aegon II’s second nameday—where he claims Jason and Y/N first took liberties with one another—have been widely dismissed as typical exaggeration. Yet, even those who dismiss the fool’s words cannot deny that the union between the Lannister lord and the Targaryen princess remains as resolute as ever.

Aemma Lannister and the Claiming of Silverwing

On that same day, while plans were made to send word of the queen’s coronation to allies across the realm, an event of unexpected joy took place within the caverns of the Dragonmont. Young Lady Aemma Lannister—third-born child of Jason Lannister and Y/N Targaryen—had wandered toward the great fissures in the mountain where unclaimed dragons made their lairs. Among them was Silverwing, the aged companion of Queen Alysanne, who had long gone riderless since the queen’s death decades earlier.

Grand Maester Gerardys records the event with wonder:

"The girl, scarcely thirteen years of age, approached Silverwing with a boldness that could only be born of dragon’s blood. She spoke no command, nor offered bribes of food—only words whispered softly into the dragon’s ear. To the astonishment of all who bore witness, Silverwing lowered her great head, allowing the girl to climb atop her back. It was a sight out of legend—the daughter of a lion astride the queen’s dragon, the past meeting the present in fire and awe."

Mushroom adds his usual flair to the tale: “Aemma spoke the dragon’s name like it was an old friend, or so they say. I’ll wager her mother wept with pride, and her father swore loud enough for the whole of Westeros to hear—whether it was joy or terror, I’ll let you decide.”

Thus, within the span of a day, fire and grief were met with moments of strength and renewal. Princess Visenya’s death, Rhaenyra’s coronation, the betrothal of Jacaerys and Leona, and Aemma’s claiming of Silverwing all marked the beginning of a new chapter in the Dance of the Dragons. The Black Queen now wore her father’s crown, her claim made plain for all to see.

And though grief and fury still burned in her heart, those fires would fuel the war to come.

The Westerlands and the Return of Loren Lannister

While Queen Rhaenyra consolidated her power at Dragonstone and prepared for the looming war, the Westerlands stood firm under the golden lion of House Lannister. With Lord Jason Lannister remaining at Dragonstone alongside his wife, Princess Y/N Targaryen, their eldest son Loren returned to Casterly Rock to secure their lands, accompanied by his younger siblings—Tyland, Daena, Rhaegel, and Rhaelle—as well as Baela and Rhaena Targaryen and the young Targaryen princes, Aegon and Viserys.

Grand Maester Gerardys writes:

"The sight of Loren Lannister returning to the Rock astride his dragon Morghan was one of triumph and burden both. He bore the weight of responsibility far beyond his years, yet he carried it with quiet resolve. Alongside him rode Baela Targaryen, a sharp and willful girl, whose silver hair caught the sun like a blade’s edge. Between the two dragons—Morghan and Moondancer—the skies above the Westerlands were guarded with a ferocity that gave even the most daring of foes pause."

At Casterly Rock, the return of Lord Tyland Lannister—Jason’s twin—was met with quiet relief. Having fled King’s Landing under the cover of night after Ser Erryk freed him, Tyland quickly fortified the Rock, organizing defenses and ensuring the gold of the Westerlands remained under Lannister control.

The Clashing of Loren and Baela

It was not long before rumors began to spread of the frequent bickering between Loren Lannister and Baela Targaryen. The two, though often at odds, formed a formidable partnership when duty called. Gerardys notes their dynamic in his typically diplomatic style:

"Young Lord Loren carried the weight of his father’s absence with the pride of a lion, though some said his seriousness was tempered by the fire of Baela Targaryen. Where Loren sought order, Baela brought boldness, and their arguments were often as fierce as their loyalty to one another. Yet when it came to matters of defense, the two worked with a singular purpose—like the twin heads of a dragon. Together, they secured the borders of the Westerlands with dragons above and steel below."

Mushroom, as always, offered a bawdier account: “The lion and the dragon fought like storm and fire, but mark me—there’s love brewing in those battles. Baela’s sharper than any sword Loren wields, and the boy knows it. If the war doesn’t wed them, I’ll eat my hat.”

Whether such feelings existed remains a matter of speculation, though their bond was undeniable.

The Mischief of Young Tyland Lannister

Among the children at the Rock, none proved more troublesome—or more entertaining—than young Tyland Lannister. Named for his uncle, Lord Tyland, the boy was as quick-tongued and sharp-witted as his father, Jason.

Lord Tyland himself was said to have bemoaned the boy’s antics on more than one occasion, grumbling to his stewards: “It’s like having Jason back again, except this one’s smaller, louder, and far less inclined to listen.”

Young Tyland took great joy in testing his uncle’s patience, often playing pranks that disrupted council meetings and causing headaches for the stewards of the Rock. Despite the mischief, even Lord Tyland could not deny the boy’s cleverness, remarking once, “He’ll either be the salvation of the Rock or its ruin, and I pray to the gods for the former.”

The Bonds of Daena, Rhaegel, Rhaelle, and Rhaena

Meanwhile, the younger children—Daena, Rhaegel, and Rhaelle—formed a strong bond with Rhaena Targaryen, whose calm and nurturing demeanor made her a beloved presence among them. Gerardys describes their time together with fondness:

"The young ladies of House Lannister were often seen alongside Rhaena Targaryen, playing in the sunlit courtyards or walking the walls of Casterly Rock. Rhaena, with her quiet grace, took to them like an elder sister, teaching Daena the art of embroidery, calming Rhaegel’s boundless energy, and holding Rhaelle’s hand as they watched the skies for dragons. These moments, though fleeting, brought warmth to an otherwise somber castle preparing for war."

Dragons Above the Westerlands

The presence of dragons in the skies above the Westerlands was both a deterrent and a warning. Loren’s dragon, Morghan—a mighty beast with midnight-black scales and even darker wings—often patrolled the borders, his roar echoing like thunder through the valleys. Baela’s Moondancer, smaller and more agile, flew alongside him, her pale green scales shimmering in the sunlight.

Mushroom, in his usual tone, remarked: “The Greens would sooner piss themselves than face two dragons guarding the gold of Casterly Rock. Loren’s beast could devour a man whole, and Baela’s Moondancer could dance around a storm of arrows. Between the two of them, the Westerlands might as well be ringed in fire.”

The Westerlands Hold

Under Loren’s leadership and Baela’s fire, the Westerlands remained secure. Lord Tyland fortified the Rock with gold and steel, young Tyland caused chaos wherever he went, and the bonds between the Lannister children and the Targaryen twins grew stronger with each passing day.

It was a time of uneasy calm, as though the entire realm held its breath. The Rock stood tall, dragons guarded its skies, and whispers of love and loyalty danced through the halls. Yet all knew that this peace would not last, for war was inevitable—and when it came, the lions and dragons of the West would be ready

The early morning light seeped into Dragonstone’s great hall. The air smelled of salt and smoke, carried on the winds that blew in from the narrow sea. You stood beside Jason near the main gates, your daughters Leona and Aemma clad in their traveling cloaks, their dragon-riding gear fastened snugly. Their dragons—Leona’s fierce Vaelora and Aemma’s newly bonded Silverwing—waited outside, wings stirring impatiently as the sound of waves crashed below.

Jason’s jaw was set, his face as hard as the stone walls surrounding you. It had taken hours of whispered arguments the night before for him to relent, and even now, his reluctance weighed heavy in the silence.

“Do you understand what you’re being asked to do?” Jason’s voice broke the stillness, his sharp green eyes sweeping over both of his daughters. “This is no trivial task. You will be flying across hostile skies, carrying the weight of our queen’s words. Oaths may have been sworn, but men’s loyalty fades as quickly as morning dew.”

Leona nodded, standing straight and proud in her crimson cloak, her golden mask gleaming faintly. “We understand, Father,” she said calmly, her voice unwavering. “Queen Rhaenyra has entrusted us with this task. We will not fail.”

Beside her, Aemma shifted slightly, her softer expression betraying her nerves. Yet, there was resolve in her eyes as she spoke. “Silverwing and I will fly swiftly. We’ll be safe.”

Jason turned his gaze toward you then, searching for some last refuge of support. “Tell me this doesn’t sit ill with you,” he muttered, his voice low and clipped.

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Of course it does, Jason,” you whispered. “They are our daughters. But we swore our loyalty to Rhaenyra, and they are dragons. It is their duty, just as it is ours.”

Jason exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He turned back to the girls, his voice softening slightly. “Leona,” he began, “the Riverlands are fractured. Lord Grover Tully is an old man. You must be careful whom you trust—do not mistake smiles for loyalty.”

“I will be vigilant,” Leona replied firmly. “Vaelora and I will remind them of the oaths they swore.”

Jason’s gaze shifted to Aemma then, his expression betraying the slightest flicker of worry. “And you,” he said, his tone gentler, “the Iron Islands are no place for a girl. The Greyjoys respect strength and power—do not let them see your fear.”

Aemma lifted her chin slightly, her face determined. “I won’t let them, Father. Silverwing will fly high and proud. They’ll know the might of dragons.”

Before Jason could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall as Jacaerys Velaryon strode forward, his own riding leathers fastened, Vermax waiting for him in the courtyard. He nodded to you and Jason before turning to the girls.

“Leona,” Jace said, offering her a faint smile. “We’ll meet at the Trident when your business in the Riverlands is done and mine in the Vale. From there, we’ll fly north together.”

Leona dipped her head slightly, though her voice carried a teasing edge. “Try not to keep me waiting, Prince Jacaerys.”

Jace smirked faintly but turned to Jason then, his face serious. “Lord Jason,” he said, “I promise you—I’ll see both your daughters safely to Winterfell. They will not fly alone.”

Jason studied Jace for a long moment, searching his face. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod. “You’d best keep that promise, boy. If any harm befalls them, you’ll answer to me before you answer to the queen.”

Jace inclined his head respectfully. “I understand, my lord.”

Aemma stepped closer to you then, her face slightly pale. “Mother,” she murmured softly, “will you… be here when I return?”

You cupped her face gently, brushing her curls back as you smiled faintly. “Of course I will, my sweet girl. I will be here, and I will be waiting.”

Leona approached Jason, her back still straight and unflinching as she placed a gloved hand on his arm. “We’ll make you proud, Father.”

Jason stared at her for a moment, his features softening as he reached up to grip her shoulder. “You already do, Leona,” he said quietly. “You always have.”

Outside, the dragons stirred impatiently, their calls reverberating through the courtyard like thunder. The time had come.

Together, you and Jason walked with them to the gates, where Jace, Leona, and Aemma stood beside their dragons. Jace climbed onto Vermax first, his movements confident and fluid. The young dragon shifted beneath him, its green-bronze scales catching the light as it stretched its wings.

Aemma approached Silverwing, her small form dwarfed by the ancient dragon’s shimmering silver scales. “Easy, girl,” she whispered, placing a steady hand on Silverwing’s neck before climbing onto her back. The dragon rumbled softly in response, lowering herself to make it easier.

Lastly, Leona strode to Vaelora, the white dragon standing tall and proud as smoke curled from her nostrils. She regarded Leona briefly, almost as if awaiting her approval, before bowing low. She climbed into the saddle, her crimson cloak flaring behind her like a banner.

Jason’s hand found yours, his grip tight as he watched his daughters prepare to leave. “It feels like I’m letting them fly straight into the jaws of wolves,” he muttered.

You squeezed his hand gently. “They are dragons, Jason. The wolves will fear them.”

Jace raised his voice as he looked back at Jason one last time. “We’ll return to you with news, my lord,” he called.

Leona glanced back briefly. “And victory,” she added, her voice carrying clear and strong.

Jason said nothing, though his face was hard as stone. He simply lifted a hand in farewell, his grip on you never faltering.

With a final look, Jace gave the signal. “Fly!”

The dragons launched into the air with a thunderous force, their wings slicing through the sky as they rose higher and higher. Vermax, swift and agile, led the way with Silverwing trailing close behind, her silver wings shimmering against the pale blue morning. Vaelora brought up the rear, her red markings a sharp contrast to the others, her roar echoing across the cliffs of Dragonstone.

You and Jason stood in silence, watching them vanish into the clouds, their figures growing smaller until they were little more than specks on the horizon.

Jason finally spoke, his voice low and tight. “We’ve sent our daughters into the storm.”

You nodded, unable to look away from the sky. “And they will fly through it, Jason,” you said softly. “Because they are dragons.”

And in that moment, you knew it to be true. Whatever lay ahead—oaths broken, wars waged—your daughters would endure. And they would return, their fire unquenched.

The wind howled through the stone halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the salt-heavy scent of the sea and the distant cries of dragons. You moved through the dim corridors, your thoughts still lingering on the sight of Leona and Aemma disappearing into the clouds alongside Jacaerys. Their dragons had roared into the sky, powerful and defiant, but now the silence they left behind felt heavy.

You found Rhaenyra standing at the edge of the courtyard, staring out toward the horizon. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, though whether it was against the chill or the weight of yet another goodbye, you couldn’t tell. She had just said farewell to Lucerys, the youngest of her boys now sent to the Stormlands. His small dragon, Arrax, had taken flight not long before, leaving her to watch the empty sky as though he might return at any moment.

When she heard your footsteps, Rhaenyra turned slightly, her face pale but composed. “He’s gone,” she said softly, though the words seemed to weigh her down. “Luke is so young still, younger than Jace when he first took to the skies alone.”

You moved to stand beside her, your gaze following hers toward the endless sea. “They’re strong, Rhaenyra,” you replied, trying to reassure her—though the words felt as much for you as for her. “They are their mothers’ children.”

Rhaenyra let out a soft breath, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips. “And their fathers’,” she added quietly, though a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “Luke has Jace’s bravery, but Arrax is small compared to Vermax.”

You placed a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. “He’ll return, Rhaenyra,” you said firmly. “And so will ours.”

Rhaenyra looked at you then, her gaze softening. “And how did Jason take it?” she asked knowingly, though there was a faint amusement in her voice.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not well,” you admitted, half-jesting. “Not well at all. I thought for a moment he might lock Leona and Aemma in the cellars to keep them grounded. He’s probably still cursing himself for agreeing.”

Rhaenyra chuckled faintly, a sound that was welcome against the quiet gloom. “I can imagine. I never thought I’d see Ser Jason Lannister so… unraveled.”

You tilted your head, smiling as you studied her. “Do you remember the first time we met him?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes lit with faint mirth at the memory, and she turned to fully face you, her arms dropping to her sides. “Oh, I remember,” she replied with a knowing smile. “The great lion of Casterly Rock, strutting about the Kingswood as though he’d already conquered it. He was so full of himself, I thought his pride might suffocate him.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as the memory came flooding back. “He tried to impress us both during the hunt for Aegon’s nameday. I thought you’d take a sword to him after the second jest about lions outrunning dragons.”

“And I might have,” Rhaenyra said with a smirk, though it quickly softened. “But he surprised me. I never took Jason Lannister for a family man back then. To see him now… with you, with his children—it’s almost hard to believe.”

You sighed, smiling fondly. “He’s changed,” you agreed softly. “Or perhaps he was always this way, and we never cared to look close enough.”

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly, studying you with an appraising eye. “And yet you’ve given him seven children,” she teased lightly. “You must see something in him that no one else ever has.”

You shook your head with a laugh, though your cheeks warmed faintly. “More than I ever expected, I suppose. He’s stubborn and vain, but he loves fiercely.” You paused, suddenly grinning despite the somber day. “Would you believe he wants more?”

Rhaenyra blinked, clearly caught off guard. “More children?”

You nodded, the incredulous smile still tugging at your lips. “I told him we already have seven—seven, Rhaenyra. That’s more than enough to fill Casterly Rock twice over. But he just shrugs and says there’s always room for more lions.”

Rhaenyra barked out a short, surprised laugh, the sound echoing faintly in the open air. “More lions?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Has he forgotten how war looms over us all? How will he manage to protect you and a nursery full of babes?”

“I asked him the same,” you replied, still smiling despite the weight of the conversation. “He only said it’s because of the war that he wants more. He fears for us, for our children. I think he believes filling the halls of the Rock with more family will somehow keep us all safe.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened again, though this time with understanding. “It is the curse of fathers, I suppose,” she murmured. “Daemon would have said much the same, once. That our bloodline—our children—are what anchor us to this world, even when everything else is ripped away.”

You nodded quietly, glancing back toward the skies where your daughters had disappeared not long before. “They are everything,” you agreed softly. “And Jason knows it as well as we do.”

Rhaenyra stepped closer, her hand reaching out to take yours. “They will return,” she said again, her voice low but steady. “Jace will look after them both, as he promised. And when this war is over, the skies will belong to dragons once more.”

You squeezed her hand in return, the weight of her words grounding you as much as they pained you. “Let us hope the gods are listening.”

The two of you stood there together, the salt wind tangling in your hair and the roar of the waves far below filling the silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, both consumed by your thoughts—your children, your husbands, the realm teetering on the edge of war.

But as you looked toward the empty horizon, you reminded yourself of the truth you both shared. You were dragons, and dragons did not falter.

The Painted Table was once again surrounded by men of influence and power, their faces set with grim determination as they listened to Daemon Targaryen. Lords, knights, and bannermen loyal to Queen Rhaenyra filled the chamber—faces familiar and new, united by oaths, blood, and the looming specter of war. Jason Lannister stood to Daemon's immediate right, his arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes sharp and calculating as they followed the Rogue Prince’s every move.

The air in the room crackled with tension as Daemon, leaning over the Painted Table, ran his gloved hand across the carved Riverlands. His voice was low and authoritative, every word carrying the weight of unspoken action.

"When the time comes,” Daemon began, his violet eyes narrowing as they swept the gathered lords, “we will need to take Harrenhal.” His finger tapped hard against the fortress carved into the wood. “It is the key to the Riverlands. Without it, we cannot hope to rally the lords who owe us their swords. Securing Harrenhal will give us the space to host our armies and strike out where we need to. A foothold.”

A murmur ran through the room as the lords considered the words. Harrenhal was a name that carried weight—once a seat of great power, now a cursed ruin that loomed over the Riverlands like a great black shadow.

Lord Staunton spoke first, his tone cautious. “My prince, the Riverlands will be slow to act unless their safety is guaranteed. Harrenhal is poorly garrisoned, aye, but its walls are as strong as any in Westeros. It may not hold the numbers of a great army, but whoever sits behind its walls will not give them up lightly.”

Daemon’s lip curled faintly, the ghost of a smirk. “Let them try,” he said softly, though the threat in his voice was unmistakable. “The dragons of House Targaryen will remind the Riverlands where their loyalty lies.”

Jason shifted slightly at Daemon’s right, nodding in agreement. “The Riverlords are practical men. Once they see dragons shadowing their skies, they’ll bend the knee readily enough.” His voice carried the easy confidence of a seasoned lord.

Daemon looked to him, a rare glint of approval in his violet eyes. “Precisely, Lord Jason,” he said smoothly. “The Vale will hold true, and the North is loyal. Once Harrenhal is ours, the Riverlords will have no choice but to come to us. And when they do…” His hand swept south across the table, lingering near King’s Landing, “we will tighten the noose around the usurper’s throat.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the table—low voices of men who had seen their share of war. Jason’s expression remained composed, though his green eyes were alight with focus.

Daemon straightened then, turning toward the assembled men. “I will fly to Harrenhal first, with a small force to hold the castle once it is taken. Caraxes will remind the current garrison of their folly. Lord Jason will fly on dragonback with me.”

Jason’s brows furrowed faintly, his head tilting slightly as he regarded Daemon. “Wait,” he said, his voice breaking the flow of conversation. “Did you say we will fly to Harrenhal?”

Daemon’s gaze flicked toward Jason, unreadable but unbothered. “I did.”

Jason frowned, uncrossing his arms. “I have no doubt Caraxes would make quick work of Harrenhal’s defenses, but I assumed you meant to fly there alone, Prince Daemon. My place is not on dragonback—I’ve armies to organize and—”

“You will come,” Daemon interrupted coolly, ignoring Jason’s protests with the dismissive air of a man used to having his way. “A Lannister riding at my side will send a message to the Riverlords. You are Rhaenyra’s commander, Jason. Not some lord hiding behind castle walls.”

Jason blinked, visibly taken aback at Daemon’s assumption. He opened his mouth to speak again, his voice hardening. “Prince Daemon, I may be a commander, but I am not a dragonrider. I have not even taken the saddle with my wife on —”

Daemon ignored him entirely, already turning his attention back to the map as if the matter had been settled. “With dragons in the sky and the Riverlords rallied beneath us, we will send the Hightowers crawling back to Oldtown where they belong.”

Jason’s jaw twitched, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he exchanged a quick glance with you, who stood to the side, observing the scene. You offered the faintest shrug—one that said, Daemon does as he pleases.

The room had fallen silent, the lords and knights watching the exchange with interest. Jason cleared his throat, his voice clipped as he spoke again, louder this time. “Prince Daemon, I cannot fly with you to Harrenha. Maybe I can follow with our armies—”

Daemon cut him off again, this time with a sharp, pointed look. “If the time comes, you will do what needs to be done, Lord Jason.”

Jason stared at him for a moment, his frustration thinly veiled beneath a forced smile. “And if I refuse?”

Daemon’s smirk returned faintly, though his tone remained cold and unyielding. “Then I suppose I’ll find another commander willing to ride with me into fire and blood.”

The tension in the room was palpable, though it broke with a chuckle from Lord Celtigar, who muttered something about “dragonlords and their tempers.” Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said no more, stepping back and folding his arms again.

The meeting continued as Daemon laid out strategies for what would follow Harrenhal’s fall—plans to hold the Riverlands, to rally allies to Rhaenyra’s cause, and to prepare for the inevitable march toward King’s Landing. But you could see the lingering frustration on Jason’s face, his green eyes flickering toward Daemon more than once as the prince spoke.

When the lords were dismissed, Jason leaned toward you, muttering under his breath, “If he thinks I’m taking the skies like some silver-haired daredevil, he’s lost his wits.”

You bit back a smile, resting a calming hand on his arm. “He’s testing you, Jason,” you replied softly. “And you’ll rise to the occasion, as you always do.”

Jason snorted faintly, though the irritation didn’t fully leave his voice. “He can test all he likes, but if I end up in a dragon’s saddle with him, you’ll find me praying to the gods to save my arse.”

You laughed quietly, squeezing his arm. “Well, then we’ll make certain you’re prepared before the time comes.”

Jason sighed heavily, shaking his head as he muttered, “The things I do for Targaryens…”

You smiled, though the weight of Daemon’s words remained with you both. If war was to come, every piece on the board would be forced into motion. And whether Jason Lannister took to the skies willingly or not, the realm would soon know that fire and blood had come for the Greens.

The solar of Dragonstone was awash with late afternoon light. You were seated beside Rhaenyra at the long table, surrounded by a small group of noblewomen—the ladies of lords who had declared for the Queen. They were deep in conversation about supplies, the tending of the wounded, and which maesters should be trusted when the inevitable bloodshed began. It was the quiet work of war, the often overlooked discussions that kept an army from falling apart.

You nodded politely as Lady Staunton mentioned the need for healers skilled with poultices, though your focus wavered as you caught movement from the doorway. Jason entered, his stride purposeful and his usual air of smug confidence softened into something more playful. His golden curls caught the sunlight, his green eyes shone faintly as they sought you out from across the room.

You arched an eyebrow in silent question as he approached. Rhaenyra paused mid-sentence, glancing up with mild curiosity. “Your lord husband comes,” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice. “What mischief could he be plotting now?”

Jason stopped just behind your chair, resting a casual hand on its back. “Ladies,” he greeted smoothly, nodding toward the small assembly with a charming smile. “My apologies for the intrusion. Might I borrow my wife for just a moment?”

You looked up at him, lips curving faintly into a smile. “Borrow me?” you echoed, puzzled. “For what purpose, Jason?”

He cleared his throat, shifting slightly under the weight of the assembled women’s gaze. “A private matter,” he said smoothly, though his tone faltered at the end as if already realizing the uphill battle before him.

Rhaenyra smirked faintly, clearly amused. “A private matter? Then say what you need, Lord Jason. We are all allies here.”

Jason shot Rhaenyra a glance that was somewhere between pleading and exasperated before looking back down at you. “It’s… not something for polite company.”

Your brows furrowed, bewildered. “Are you unwell? Have you been summoned?”

“Not quite.” Jason’s smile flickered, his green eyes darting toward the others before returning to you. “I merely thought you might be in need of… rest, my love. A reprieve.”

You tilted your head at him, still not following. “I’m quite fine, Jason. There’s much to discuss—”

“I assure you,” he interrupted with a low, almost conspiratorial voice, “it is you who deserves a reprieve, darling.” His fingers lightly brushed the back of your chair, his grip almost pleading. “Some time alone. Away from… chatter.”

The ladies around the table exchanged amused glances and polite coughs to hide their smiles. Rhaenyra’s expression was entirely unhelpful, her smirk deepening as she leaned back in her chair. “Are you asking your wife to abandon her duties, Lord Jason?”

Jason’s jaw tightened slightly, though he forced a smile, his tone still light—if strained. “Of course not, Princess. But even the most dutiful wives require… a moment’s rest. I am concerned for her well-being, that is all.”

Your confusion only deepened as you regarded him, not missing the faint flush in his cheeks. “Jason, what are you trying to say?”

For the briefest moment, Jason faltered, his confidence replaced by something bordering on defeat. “I am trying to say, my love,” he muttered under his breath, though still loud enough to carry, “that I wish to spend time with you—alone.”

The solar went silent for a heartbeat before Rhaenyra broke into soft laughter, her shoulders shaking faintly as she turned toward you. “Seven hells, sister, your husband is a subtle one.”

You blinked, realization finally dawning as warmth crept into your cheeks. Jason looked caught between embarrassment and resignation, his green eyes narrowing faintly as though blaming Rhaenyra for his predicament.

“Well, you could have said that, Jason,” you teased lightly, though your own face was warm now.

“I thought I had,” Jason grumbled, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as the ladies around the table tittered behind their hands.

Rhaenyra’s grin was positively wolfish as she regarded him. “And yet, for all your silver tongue, you’ve only managed to confuse us all. Perhaps you’ve lost your touch, my lord.”

Jason let out a sharp exhale, his pride clearly stung. “Very well. I can see when I’m outnumbered.” He shot you a look, a mix of fondness and defeat. “When you find yourself in need of better company than this, you know where to find me.”

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “And where will you be?”

“Anywhere but here,” Jason replied with a pointed glance at Rhaenyra, before turning on his heel. “Perhaps I’ll find Daemon. At least he doesn’t mock me to my face all the time.”

As he strode out, the laughter followed him faintly, the golden lion of Casterly Rock momentarily outmatched. Rhaenyra watched him go, shaking her head with mirth as she turned back to you. “He really does love you, doesn’t he?”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest despite your amusement. “He does,” you murmured softly. “And I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

Rhaenyra smirked again, her eyes glinting. “Be careful, sister. He might return with a bottle of wine and a battalion of excuses.”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair as you shook your head. “At least he tries.”

And though Jason had left the room sulking, you knew well enough that his pride would recover quickly. For no matter how defeated he seemed now, the lion always roared loudest when he got his way—and you had little doubt he’d try again before the day was done.

Jason Lannister stormed into the chamber where Daemon and several of the loyal lords of the Queen were gathered around the Painted Table, his boots echoing off the stone floor with each heavy step. He wore his irritation plainly, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he dropped himself unceremoniously into a chair near Daemon.

“Seven bloody hells,” Jason muttered, raking a hand through his golden curls. “I’ve fought wars with less resistance than trying to have a moment alone with my wife.”

Daemon, who had been listening to Lord Celtigar drone about supply routes, glanced up with a faint smirk. His violet eyes glimmered with amusement as he leaned back, one brow arched. “Turned away by your lady wife, were you?” His voice carried that ever-present edge of mockery. “You’re losing your touch, Lannister.”

Jason scowled, pouring himself a cup of wine from the flagon set nearby. “Not all of us have the luxury of stealing wives off their husbands, Daemon,” he shot back pointedly, though there was little venom in the remark. He took a long drink, slamming the cup back onto the table with unnecessary force. “I swear, a room full of women can cut a man down quicker than swords ever could.”

A low chuckle rippled through the room as the lords exchanged knowing glances. Lord Staunton grinned, shaking his head. “Perhaps you ought to take your woes to the battlefield instead, my lord. The enemy is far less crafty.”

“Or find solace in the company of men,” Lord Darklyn suggested, earning laughter from the others.

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he looked toward Daemon. “This is your fault, you know,” he grumbled, pointing a finger in mock accusation. “If you didn’t summon us here to sit around tables and sharpen daggers, I might actually get to enjoy the spoils of my marriage.”

Daemon’s smirk widened. “Your misfortunes are your own, Lannister,” he replied, his tone light, though his gaze flickered back toward the map with growing focus. “Besides, there will be time enough to take your pleasures when this war is won.”

Jason sighed dramatically, slouching back in his chair, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his lingering humor. “If I live to see the day.”

“Let us hope you do,” Daemon replied dryly. “We’ll need men like you for the fight ahead—assuming you can pry yourself away from the comforts of the Rock.”

Jason opened his mouth for another retort when the doors to the chamber swung open suddenly, the sharp creak cutting through the room’s low laughter like a blade. A young messenger stumbled inside, his face pale and breath ragged, as though he’d ridden straight through the night. The jovial mood evaporated at once, the air turning heavy as all eyes turned to him.

“Speak,” Daemon commanded, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

The messenger fell to his knee, clutching a small, weathered scroll in one hand. “A message, my lords,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “From Storm’s End. From Lord Borros Baratheon.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed as he strode forward, his boots echoing ominously against the stone. He plucked the scroll from the messenger’s shaking hand, breaking the seal with one quick motion. Silence gripped the chamber as he read, his face hardening with every word.

Jason leaned forward, his earlier sulking forgotten. “What is it?” he asked sharply.

Daemon’s grip on the parchment tightened, the veins in his hand visible beneath the skin. Slowly, he lifted his head, his violet gaze dark with fury and grief as he looked around the room. His voice, when he spoke, was as cold as the grave.

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

The words fell like a thunderclap, the silence that followed suffocating. Jason blinked, the shock etched plainly on his face. “Dead?” he echoed, as though he had not heard correctly.

Daemon’s jaw clenched as he continued, his voice steady despite the rage building beneath the surface. “The boy flew to Storm’s End to speak with Lord Borros Baratheon. But Prince Aemond was there before him, riding Vhagar.”

The mention of the ancient she-dragon sent a chill through the room. Lords exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the words sinking in.

Daemon’s eyes flickered toward Jason, but it was not mockery in his gaze now. It was the cold fire of vengeance. “Aemond chased Lucerys into the storm. The boy never returned. His dragon, Arrax, was torn apart—what remained of their bodies washed ashore this morning.”

The chamber fell into chaos. Gasps, murmurs, and curses filled the air as the lords reacted to the news. Jason swore under his breath, rising to his feet. “The boy was no warrior—he was a messenger,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “They slaughtered him like a lamb.”

Daemon said nothing for a moment, his hand crumpling the scroll as his face turned to stone. “This will not go unanswered,” he said, his tone soft but deadly. “Aemond Targaryen will pay for what he’s done.”

Jason’s fists clenched at his sides as he looked toward the Painted Table, where Storm’s End loomed ominously beside the sea. “Rhaenyra must know,” he said quietly, the words feeling heavy in his throat. “The queen must hear this.”

Daemon nodded once, sharply. “She will.” His gaze flickered to the messenger, who was still kneeling, his head bowed low. “Go,” Daemon commanded. “Get word to the queen. Now.”

The boy scrambled to his feet and fled the chamber, leaving the lords in grim silence. Jason turned toward Daemon, his voice low and hard. “This changes everything. You know it.”

Daemon’s gaze was fierce, unrelenting. “It changes nothing,” he replied coldly. “The Greens have drawn first blood. Now we will give them war.”

Jason said nothing, though his eyes burned with the same fire. He glanced toward the door, knowing that the news would soon reach the rest of Dragonstone, to Rhaenyra—to you. And though he dreaded the pain it would bring, he also knew that the realm would never forget this moment.

The Dance of the Dragons had begun. And there would be no turning back.

The heavy silence that had fallen over Dragonstone was broken only by the soft patter of hurried footsteps as the messenger was ushered into the queen’s solar. Rhaenyra sat by the window when he entered, the afternoon light casting pale shadows across her face, though she appeared as regal as ever—calm, composed, unshakable. Or so it seemed.

You stood near the doorway with the other noble ladies, your mind still reeling from the earlier news Daemon had shared with the lords. The messenger looked pale, his hands trembling slightly as he unrolled the scroll he carried. His voice wavered as he spoke, but it carried all the same.

“A message from Lord Borros Baratheon, Your Grace,” he began, his voice faltering at the weight of his words. “Prince Lucerys Velaryon… and his dragon, Arrax… were struck down above Storm’s End.”

Rhaenyra froze. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound escaped. The faint light from the window turned her features ghostly pale, as though the blood had drained from her body entirely. She looked at the messenger, but her violet eyes seemed to see nothing at all.

“Struck down,” she repeated, her voice a whisper—a broken thing that barely carried across the room.

The messenger swallowed hard, his head bowed. “Prince Aemond was there. Riding Vhagar.”

The air seemed to thicken, as though the walls of Dragonstone had drawn closer, suffocating everyone within. Rhaenyra swayed faintly, her hand gripping the edge of the window seat to steady herself.

“Rhaenyra,” you whispered sharply, crossing the room in quick strides. You knelt beside her, one hand reaching for her trembling arm. “Sit down. Please.”

She looked at you then, her expression stricken, her eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “Lucerys,” she choked, her voice breaking. “He—he was only a boy. My sweet Luke…”

“Sit,” you said again, firmer now. You guided her gently to the chair near the hearth, her body moving as though in a trance. The other ladies began to back away, their eyes lowered, the weight of grief filling the room like a dark fog.

Rhaenyra’s hands trembled in her lap, her breath ragged as she tried to compose herself, though it was clear her composure was already shattered. “Why send him there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I should have sent someone else. I should have—”

“Stop,” you interrupted softly, kneeling beside her as you took her hands in yours. “You did what you thought was right. Luke was strong, Rhaenyra. He wanted to go. He wanted to prove himself, as any son of yours would.”

Rhaenyra squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear slipping down her cheek. Before either of you could speak again, the door swung open with a loud creak, and Daemon entered, his face like carved stone. His violet eyes flickered between you and Rhaenyra before settling on his wife, his expression unreadable—but you saw the storm roiling beneath.

You stood quickly, nodding to Daemon as you released Rhaenyra’s hands. “She needs you now,” you said softly, stepping back to allow him space.

Daemon inclined his head faintly, though his eyes remained on Rhaenyra as he crossed the room. The other ladies, sensing the need for privacy, began to slip out of the solar quietly. You followed them, though as you reached the door, you couldn’t help but pause.

“Luke…” Rhaenyra’s voice was soft, almost childlike as she looked up at Daemon. “He’s gone.”

Daemon knelt before her, his expression softening ever so slightly, though the anger in his eyes burned like coals beneath a fire. He reached for her hand, his grip firm but steady. “He shall be avenged,” he said, his voice low but steady—dangerous. “Son for a son, Rhaenyra. I swear it.”

Rhaenyra let out a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks as she bowed her head. You closed the door softly behind you, Daemon’s promise still ringing in your ears.

Son for a son.

You walked down the dim corridor, your steps echoing faintly in the silence. The pain in your chest was heavy, as though Luke’s loss had struck a blow to the family you all shared. A child—a boy—gone too soon, his life stolen before he’d had the chance to see manhood.

As you turned a corner, you saw Jason waiting for you near one of the windows. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his expression clouded with both grief and anger. He looked up as you approached, his green eyes searching yours.

“How is she?” he asked quietly, though the answer was plain to see.

You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “Shattered,” you replied, coming to stand beside him. “Daemon is with her now. He’ll hold her together, for a while.”

Jason was silent for a long moment, staring out at the darkening sea. His jaw worked slightly, as though he were chewing on words he didn’t want to say. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “The Greens will pay for this.”

“They will,” you agreed softly, though your voice held little comfort. “Daemon has already sworn as much.”

Jason turned to you then, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. “You know what this means,” he said. “Once Rhaenyra rises from this grief, she’ll give the word. War is coming, and there will be no turning back.”

You nodded, your heart heavy. “I know.”

Jason reached for your hand, his grip firm and steady as he pulled you closer. “We’ll endure it,” he said quietly. “We’ll endure it for our children, for our family.”

You looked up at him, finding comfort in the familiar strength of his gaze. “And for Luke,” you whispered.

Jason nodded solemnly. “And for Luke.”

The two of you stood there in silence, your hands entwined as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Dragonstone in shadow.

A storm was coming—one unlike any the realm had ever seen. And as the winds howled beyond the castle walls, you could feel the shift in the air, the first tremors of fire and blood that would consume everything.

[morningsharksworld]

Right, but what if - Hazard and Reader who's a tattoo artist

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FICS, EACH AND EVERY ONE IS SO GOOD

DARE

Hazard x Tattoo Artist!Reader [REQUEST]

A/N: OKAY SO hear me out first, me and a couple of friends were on VC one day looking at Hazards emotes n shit right. We notice something on his sitting emote. Although dude is decked out head to toe with spikes or just overall darker clothing his lower back however, is EXTREMELY empty no mods, no marks, NOTHING, NADA.

And if you ask me, it’s perfect spot for one specific tattoo

A tramp stamp tattoo

Summary: Hazard lost a bet :]

Hazard stood outside Lucky 13 Ink, glaring at the neon skull above the door as it flickered mockingly. He adjusted his jacket, grumbling under his breath, his Scottish accent thickened by frustration.

“Fuckin’ stupid bet” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Coulda just taken the bloody fold, but nooo, Hazard’s got tae go all in.”

His so-called friends—Boomslang, Jackdaw, and Revel—had been unbearable ever since the bet. The three had orchestrated his downfall with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and now here he was, about to get a tramp stamp.

If they thought they were picking the design, though, they had another thing coming. He’d take the hit, aye, but on his own terms.

With a resigned sigh, he shoved open the door. A bell jingled overhead, announcing his arrival.

The shop was dimly lit, with glowing panels on the walls showcasing intricate tattoo designs that looked like something out of a cyberpunk fever dream. A low bassline hummed in the background, vibrating through his boots.

You were behind the counter, sketching on a glowing tablet. The mechanical arm you were using whirred softly as you worked, the faint blue light from its wiring casting shadows on your face.

Without looking up, you spoke. “Walk-ins are welcome, but if you’re here for a bad decision, I’ll need to see some ID first.”

Hazard froze, caught off guard by your dry tone. “Eh? Whit’s that supposed tae mean?”

Finally, you looked up, eyeing him critically before smirking. “Let me guess. Lost a bet?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Ach, why does every bugger keep sayin’ that?”

You leaned on the counter, amused. “Because no one who looks exactly like you walks in asking for a tattoo last minute unless they’ve been bullied into it. So, what’s it gonna be? A little butterfly? Maybe some flames? Or a nice, dainty bow?”

Hazard scowled, his pride taking yet another hit. “Something cool, alright? Lower back. But make it look decent, aye?”

Your smirk widened. “Cool? You’re giving a lot to work here big guy.”

=====

You set to work on your tablet, the stylus gliding across the screen as glowing shapes materialized. Hazard leaned on the counter, his scowl softening into curiosity as he watched you work.

“So” you said after a moment, not looking up, “what kind of bet are we talking about?”

“Poker” he grumbled. “Thought I had a full house. Turns out, the bastards rigged the whole game. Loser gets a tramp stamp. Apparently, that’s me.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and teasing. “Sounds like you need better friends.”

“They’re eejits” he admitted, “but they’re my eejits.” He smiled softly to himself.

You glanced up at him briefly, your smirk softening. “Fair enough. Good thing you came here, though. I don’t do embarrassing tattoos. Only masterpieces.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Aye? And whit’s yer idea o’ a masterpiece?”

You turned the tablet toward him, revealing the design.

Hazard blinked, his jaw tightening slightly as he took in the image. It was stunning—a cybersigil that looked alive, its sharp, glowing lines forming an intricate symbol that pulsed with an almost otherworldly energy. It was futuristic and ancient all at once, like something ripped straight from the digital ether.

“Well?” you asked, clearly enjoying his stunned silence.

“This…” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “This is Fuckin brilliant!.”

You grinned. “Thought you’d like it. Ready to make it official?”

“Aye” he said, his voice steadier now. “Let’s get it done.”

=====

Hazard shifted in the chair as the tattoo gun buzzed to life.

“Relax” you said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ve done this a thousand times. You’re in good hands.”

“Relax, ye say?” he muttered, gripping the chair. “Aye, easy for you tae say. Yer no’ the one about tae be permanently marked.”

You chuckled, leaning in as you worked. “Trust me, it’s not that bad. You’d be surprised how many tough guys turn into babies once the needle starts.”

“I’m nae a bloody baby” he shot back, though his knuckles whitened as the needle touched his skin.

“Uh-huh” you said, your tone dripping with amusement. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Hazard huffed, trying to focus on anything but the sting of the needle. “So” he said after a moment, “ye think this’ll shut ma pals up?”

“Oh, absolutely” you replied. “But when they see this, they’re gonna be jealous. This thing’s a work of art.”

“Aye, well, it better be” he said with a smirk. “Dinnae want tae hear about this for the rest of ma days.”

You chuckled to yourself and went back to concentrating, as you worked, your eyes occasionally flicked over to him. At one point, you caught sight of his muscles flexing as he tensed up. You couldn’t help but smirk.

“Not bad” you said casually, breaking the silence. “You’ve got some serious muscle, huh?”

Hazard’s ears turned slightly red at the unexpected compliment, but he hid it behind a half-grin. “Aye, well, nae bad for a guy who spends his time blowing stuff up, eh?”

You chuckled, your mechanical arm adjusting to get the perfect angle. “Well, I’d say it’s paying off. You’ve got a solid build. Could probably lift a ton and still look good doing it.”

Hazard’s jaw dropped slightly, then he flashed a cocky grin. “Ah, ye like what ye see, then?”

You looked at him with a playful, teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh, yeah. You’ve definitely got the look for a tattoo like this. It's like the tattoo was made for you.”

Hazard shifted a bit but was clearly flattered by the compliment. “Ha! Guess ye’ve got an eye for these things, eh?”

You smiled as you continued to work, the needle buzzing steadily. “I’m just stating the obvious. You’ve earned that design—looking like you do.”

“Ach, ye’ll make me blush if ye keep this up” he grumbled, though there was a definite smile behind his words.

=====

When you finished, you wiped down the tattoo and handed him a mirror.

Hazard twisted in the chair, craning his neck to see the design. His eyes widened slightly as he took it in—the cybersigil glowed faintly, the sharp lines and flowing patterns perfectly complementing his form.

“Fuckin’ hell” he muttered, a rare grin spreading across his face. “That’s… that’s somethin’ else.”

“Told you I don’t do ugly tattoos” you said, clearly pleased with his reaction.

He stood, adjusting his shirt carefully over the fresh ink. “Aye, thanks for no’ makin’ me look like a complete eejit. Yer a lifesaver.”

“Anytime” you said, handing him a care sheet and your card. “Take care of it, and come back if you ever want more ink. Or, you know, if your friends rope you into another dumb bet.”

He took the card, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment. “I might just do that.”

=====

Back at the hideout, Boomslang, Jackdaw, and Revel were waiting, drinks in hand and smug grins plastered across their faces.

“Well?” Boomslang said, leaning forward eagerly. “Let’s see it!”

Hazard sighed, turning around and lifting his shirt just enough to reveal the glowing cybersigil.

“What the hell?” Jackdaw muttered, squinting at the intricate design. “That’s… that’s actually cool.”

Revel whistled. “Mate, you got a bloody masterpiece back there.”

Boomslang frowned, his smug grin replaced with a scowl. “This doesn’t feel like a loss. You cheated.”

Hazard smirked, dropping his shirt and leaning back in his chair. “Can’t help it if I’ve got good taste, eh?”

As his friends bickered about the fairness of his “punishment” Hazard found his mind drifting back to you—the way you worked with such precision, your sharp wit, and the easy confidence that had made him feel like this whole ordeal wasn’t such a disaster after all.

Maybe losing that bet wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Eternal LMK Au (Part 17) Interactive Story

Chang'e arrives~

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story; Eternal Au

Ship; ShadowPeach

Wukong's battle-ready stance immediately dissolved into pure delight. His eyes widened, sparkling with childlike wonder as the robotic bunny approached. "OH MY GOODNESS!" he squealed, bouncing on his toes. "LOOK HOW CUTE YOU ARE!"

---------

If he could see Mihou... he had a feeling he would be smacking his forehead right now.

The robotic bunny, clearly designed for surveillance and defense, seemed momentarily confused by Wukong's enthusiastic response. Its mechanical ears twitched, sensors scanning the unexpected visitor. It had come out here with the intention of tracking the unwanted visitor. Typically to scare them off… not get fawned over.

Wukong was practically vibrating with excitement, his previous tension completely forgotten. "Aren't you just the most adorable little thing?!" he cooed, taking a step forward with outstretched hands.

The robotic bunny's metallic ears pivoted, tracking Wukong's movement. Its glowing eyes flickered between scanning modes, assessing whether this strange monkey was a potential threat.

A synthesized voice emerged, crisp and precise. "Unidentified entity detected. State your purpose." as it scanned it, it reached into his memory to recall why this man seemed familiar. As Wukong swayed a little, it was quick to realize.

Target identified as: Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. Threat level: RED.

The robotic bunny's demeanor shifted instantly. Where moments ago it had been a cute, potentially friendly surveillance unit, now it transformed into a defensive mechanism. Its metallic ears hardened like blades, and its cute exterior seemed to ripple and reshape, revealing intricate defense systems.

"Threat detected," the synthesized voice announced, now cold and clinical. "Sun Wukong: Known disruptor. Initiating defensive protocols. Commencing capture."

Wukong, who had been mid-squeal about how adorable the bunny was, suddenly froze. His excited expression morphed into a bewilderment. “Oh-” He blinked rapidly, gagging a moment later when the Robot pounced on him, "WHOA-!" Wukong yelped as the robotic bunny launched itself at him with surprising agility. Its metallic limbs unfolded, revealing an array of restraining mechanisms and defensive weaponry. "Hey now, let's talk about this-!"

The robot's synthesized voice remained emotionless. "Capture protocol activated. Subject: neutralization required."

With it’s arm around Wukong, a sudden controlled shock, similar to a high voltage razor, sprung from it’s fingertips. Wukong yelped as his fur puffed, vision going fuzzy for a moment. He had been hit by far worse, but it certainly caught him off guard.

The shock jolted through Wukong's body, causing his fur to stand on end and his muscles to seize momentarily. "Okay, that's not cute anymore!" Wukong shouted, eyes like swirls. If he could hear Mihou right now, he probably would have been screaming that he was an idiot. Probably had been warning him to take this all serious for a while now, actually.

Wukong's initial shock quickly transformed into irritation. These robotic contraptions were always so dramatic. He twisted in the bunny's grip, "Listen, little bunny," he attempted to reason, "You are super cute, but I don’t appreciate being shocked. I'm not here to cause trouble.”

The robotic bunny's sensors flashed red. "Threat level increasing. Initiating full restraint protocol."

Binding rings of light seemed to form from the bunny’s hands, wrapping around Wukong’s torso to pin his arms to his side. Wukong struggled against the robotic bunny's restraints, his initial delight transforming into mild annoyance. "Hey! This is NOT how you treat guests!" he shouted, writhing against the light-based bindings.

The robotic bunny remained impassive, its mechanical voice cutting through the lunar silence. "Sun Wukong: Recognized threat. Containment mandatory." grasping the back of his shirt, it turned, dragging him back the way it came.

“Heyyy~!” Wukong kicked and pouted. Clearly captured…

Though, if he was honest, it wasn’t exactly like he was trying to escape or avoid this. Could easily change shape to get out of this- or brute force it open. But, breaking Chang’e’ things was the last thing he needed going for him right now. After all, his goal was to convince her to listen to him, so best to come in by playing by her terms.

Either way, it got him back towards the little Moon town, which is where he was going anyway. He just wished he didn’t have to deal with the judging sensation in the air.

Mihou definitely wasn’t happy…

He laughed nervously, “T-This is one way to make an entrance,” he joked to the open air. He half expected a cricket to sound back in return.

Dragged into the little domain, he was tossed into the open court yard, his face smacking into the dirt. He grumbled, peeling his face off the cement to look up.

The courtyard was immaculate, perfectly manicured gardens surrounding pristine white marble pathways. Elegant lunar architecture rose around him, with delicate archways and crystalline structures that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light - Chang'e's celestial residence. All at full alarm.

Seemed the bunny had notified the entire domain and put everything into lock down. Expected, he understood, but a tad loud.

"Wonderful," he muttered, spitting out a bit of dust. "Just wonderful."

The robotic bunny stood guard, its mechanical ears twitching as it monitored his movements. Wukong slowly picked himself up, shacking off his fur and trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as he sat on his knees.

A series of soft, melodic footsteps approached, and Wukong looked up to see a figure emerging from the pristine archways. Chang'e herself, resplendent in flowing lunar robes that seemed woven from moonlight itself, stepped forward. Her expression was a complex mixture of curiosity, wariness, and a hint of something deeper - perhaps pain-hurt… fear.

"Sun Wukong," she said, her voice cool and measured, clear she was keeping her distance, "I did not expect to see you here." normally she was so peppy and upbeat. Her expression solemn, very aware that bring across Wukong's chest was not something that would hold the person before her. "Why are you here?"

Wukong hesitated at the sight of her lingering a distance. Beyond her, he could sense more of her robots on guard. As well as another presence. Powerful, familiar- and seething...

It seems Princess Iron Fan had arrived just in time for him to be dragged in too. She wasn't revealing herself yet, perhaps waiting to see what he would do?

This was the first time he had seen either since what happened with Mihou. As the only person who could communicate with them on his mate’s behalf, and desperately needing their help, he felt he needed to consider his first words carefully. He would turn on his gold vision to ask for help from Mihou, if doing so wouldn’t put everyone on more edge than they already were.

So that left himself to figure this out until he could explain.

Previous

next

[delusional-through-and-through]

HANDMADE 🥀

It was nearly Christmas, and Class 1A dorm were buzzing with excitement. The class decided to host a Christmas party, complete with a exchange gift event. The rule was simple, draw a name and keep it a secret until the party.

Akira sighed deeply as she looked at the name she had drawn.

“Of course, it’s you,” she muttered, glaring at the name 'Katsuki Bakugou' .

The girls noticed her expression. “Hey, Akira, you good?” Mina asked, bouncing up to her.

“Yeah, fine,” Akira replied, stuffing the paper in her pocket.

“Wanna come shopping with us next week? We’re getting gifts,” Jirou offered.

“Sure,” Akira said with a shrug. She figured she might as well find something fitting for the exploding guy.

...........

A week later, the girls found their selves on the mall shopping for their gifts. As they browsed the stores, the girls chatted about their gift ideas.

“I think I’ll get some accessories,” Yaoyorozu said.

“I’m going for something fun, maybe snacks,” Mina added. “What about you, Akira?”

Akira smirked. “I’m gonna go with a plushie.”

“A plushie?” Ochaco asked, curious.

“Yeah, I’ll make a handmade plushie. Oh, and I’m throwing in some recorders too". She said holding up the recorder she just bought.

“The person I’m giving it to is gonna love it.” Her sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed, but the girls just giggled, assuming it was her way of showing care.

..........

After a good night's sleep, she began crafting the plushie with utmost concentration. The winter break gave her plenty of time to perfect it. Once it was done, she installed a recorder inside and loaded it with a snippet of a song.

“Perfect,” she muttered, smirking at her creation.

...........

Finally, Christmas arrived. The dorm were decorated in Christmas decors all over, and all the students were dressed in Santa costumes.

Akira helped prepare the food, skillfully dodging Mineta's attempts to sneak snacks and perverted attacks.

When the time came for the gift exchange, everyone gathered around the tree. It was Akira’s turn to reveal who she had drawn.

She stood up, holding a neatly wrapped box. “Alright, I got Bakugou,” she announced.

Akira handed him the gift, smirking. “Merry Christmas”

The room collectively “oohed” and turned to Bakugou, who rolled his eyes. “Tch, this better not be stupid.”

He tore open the wrapping, revealing an angry pomeranian plushie in his hero costume. The plushie's expression almost a mirror of his own.

Bakugou's eye twitched as the class burst into laughter.

“YOU MADE ME A DAMN DOG?!” Bakugou growled, his voice rising.

He clenched the plushie tightly, activating the recorder, then the plushie began to sing in a tinny but loud voice.

“I’M T.N.T., I’M DYNAMITE!

T.N.T., AND I’LL WIN THE FIGHT!

T.N.T., I’M A POWER LOAD!

T.N.T., WATCH ME EXPLODE!”

The class burst out laughing again, with Kirishima and Kaminari holding their stomach and Mina smacking the table. Even Todoroki cracked a smile.

"That’s perfect!" Kaminari said enjoying the show.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EXTRA?!” Bakugou yelled, his face bright red clearly from annoyance.

His grip on the plushie tightened more as he shouted, “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, HUH?!”

“Hilarious, actually. You’re welcome.” She crossed her arms, grinning. “What?You don��t like it? I thought it suited you.”

“YOU WANNA DIE?!”

“Relax, it’s Christmas. Besides, it’s handmade. You should be grateful.”

The class laughed harder as Bakugou glared at her, his face a mix of annoyance and reluctant appreciation.

Finally, after the teasing died down, Bakugou muttered, “Tch. Thanks, I guess.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you actually said thank you. Guess it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, turning away, but he didn’t throw the plushie. Instead, he tucked it under his arm, grumbling as the next person took their turn.

..............

The party continued in full swing after the gift exchange, with blasting music and everyone enjoying the food and little activities.

Akira found herself leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of hot cocoa, watching the chaos from a distance.

“Oi,” a familiar gruff voice called out.

She turned her head to see Bakugou standing there, the angry pomeranian plushie still tucked under his arm. His face was as stormy as ever, but there was an almost unnoticeable awkwardness to his posture.

“What’s up, Kacchan?” Akira asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

He clicked his tongue. “You really thought that thing was funny, huh?”

Akira chuckled, setting her cup down. “I mean, yeah. The whole class thought so too. Admit it, it’s the perfect gift for you.”

She pointed at the plushie. “That little guy? He’s you in every way.”

“It’s not me,” Bakugou snapped, though his grip on the plushie tightened slightly. “You’re just an idiot with too much free time.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Akira teased, leaning closer with a grin. “You like it, don’t you? I caught you carrying it around. Pretty sure you’ve already named it.”

“What?!” Bakugou glared at her. “Why the hell would I name some stupid plushie?”

“I dunno,” Akira said, crossing her arms and pretending to think. “Hmm....maybe something like… Mini-Me? Or Boomie? Oh! What about Pomsplosion?”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou barked, his voice cracking slightly as he turned away.

Akira couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, so you do like it!”

“I don’t like it!” Bakugou growled, but he didn’t let go of the plushie, which only made Akira laugh harder.

“Alright, alright,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. For now.”

He glanced at her, his scowl softening for just a second. “Tch. Whatever. Just don’t expect me to do somethin’ like this for you next year.”

“Noted,” Akira said, her smirk turning into a genuine smile. “But hey, I’m glad you didn’t throw it out or set it on fire. That’s basically a compliment coming from you.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he muttered, turning on his heel.

As he walked off, Akira called after him, “Merry Christmas, Bakugou!”

He raised a hand in response but didn’t look back. The faint redness in his ears didn’t go unnoticed by Akira, who couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, that went better than expected,” she murmured to herself, sipping her cocoa.

[seokmthw]

the good side | kim jiwoong

⇢ pairing: jiwoong x reader

⇢ warnings: harry potter au, slytherin!jiwoong, hufflepuff!reader, fluff, angst, all characters are adults, implied afab reader but still gender neutral terms, pretty hot & heavy makeout scene, mentions of sex (nothing explicitly written out, but i'd prefer minors not interact), jiwoong acts kinda like draco malfoy

⇢ synopsis: a slytherin and a hufflepuff are an unlikely pairing, but somehow you found each other into the late hours of the night, keeping each other company and developing feelings you eventually have to face.

⇢ word count: 5k

⇢ note: my harry potter hyperfixation is coming back and this is entirely self indulgent, but i hope you all enjoy too!

i.

there was an excited buzz filling up the great hall as you stood by its entrance with the other batch of anxious first years, awaiting to go in and be sorted. you weren't sure where you would end up, but you really didn't care – so long as you got along with your classmates and you were able to find friends that were genuine. you twiddled with the sleeves of your robes, feeling your heart lurch in your chest as the large doors finally opened with a loud squeak, announcing your arrival to the hundreds of other hogwarts students inside.

all eyes were on your group as you walked down the aisle and up to the front, where the stool was sat just up a few stairs and professor mcgonagall was holding the sorting hat in all of its tattered glory. you made small talk with a girl you'd slowly become friends with as you watched the first person clumsily clamber up the stairs and have the hat placed on its head.

your eyes kept scanning the area surround you, and you'd locked gazes with kim jiwoong, who had made his presence known and commanded the attention of everyone on the train earlier that day. you'd heard a lot about him from the whispering voices, about how he was incredibly hateful and always barking orders to people around him, but didn't care to listen to other people’s perceptions of him. his eyes bore into yours, but it didn't feel scary, as other people had described him – he was almost unreadable. you offered him a small, genuine smile, and you swore you saw him flash one back at you, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with his usual scowl as he was called up to be sorted.

you watched as he sat down, and the sorting hat was placed on his head for less than thirty seconds before it was bellowing out “slytherin!” and a look of pride had washed over the dark haired boy before he went and sat down with the table of older students who were cheering for him.

you watched as people continued to be called and sorted, anxiously awaiting for your name. and soon, there it was, and you were leaving your friend behind and nervously sitting down on the stool. professor mcgonagall smiled at you, her eyes turning into crescents before she set the hat atop your head. it almost felt like all the voices around you were drowned out, and you could only hear the hat as he got lost in thought, announcing everything to the rest of the crowd in front of you.

“hmm, you're a tough one, my friend. i can sense your courage and bravery, your willingness to stand up not only for yourself but for the people you love…” his voice trailed off as he thought some more, the table of gryffindors growing antsy with anticipation for you to be sorted into their house.

“ah! but wait, i can feel something deeper. you're gentle and kind, loyal to your friends, and you have a pure heart. one that shouldn't be tinkered around with. this feeling is growing stronger within me, and i think i have made my decision.”

he grew silent for a moment and it felt like the chatter of the room had gone away completely. every second that passed by was agonizing and you wanted so badly to just be off that stool and away from the burning eyes of the student body.

finally, he bellowed, “you'll be best in hufflepuff!”

a roar of cheers erupted from the students dressed in yellow and black and they graciously welcomed you to their table. amongst the sea of people, you caught the gaze of jiwoong once again, this time a knowing look on his face.

almost as if he'd known this is where you'd be.

ii.

your time at hogwarts felt like they were flying by – you were in a constant state of honing your magic skills, studying for exams and finding the time for recreational activities. before you knew it, you were in your fifth year, and you were under the tyranny of dolores umbridge and her constant nitpicking at each and every little thing the student body did.

it was exhausting.

you found yourself sneaking out of the castle late at night after finishing your studies, careful not to get caught, and sitting by the black lake, watching as the stars glittered beautifully in the sky and moon reflected off the still water before you. it was peaceful, and you found solace in getting away from the hustle and bustle you'd been surrounded by for so long.

which is where you were tonight, where it was chilly, and you were wrapped up in a cardigan and sighing in contentedness, your breath clouding before you as you did so. you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling you had, until a cool, quiet voice drew you away from your thoughts and back into the present.

“i didnt think you would be one to sneak out of the castle.”

you opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of jiwoong in front of you, one of your eyebrows quirking up in confusion, “i suppose this is why we shouldn't always judge people based upon our first impressions of them.”

jiwoong gave you a curt nod, motioning at the spot on the ground next to you, “care if i join you?”

“not at all,” was your reply.

you kept your eyes trained on the lake, feeling the chill in the air fight to cut through your cardigan and to your skin beneath it. there was an oddly comfortable silence between the two of you, both just taking in your surroundings and letting the stress of the first few months of fifth year wash away from you.

but the silence didn't last for long because jiwoong was opening his mouth again, asking you, “i’ve seen you come out here a lot, why? what's so special about it?”

you turned to look at him, taking note of how attractive he actually was up close. his dark hair was parted in the middle, exposing just enough of his forehead, the moonlight was caught in it almost perfectly. his slender nose and sharp features really stood out to you amongst the darkness, and you studied him for a moment before you finally said, “it's just nice to have a break from all the ruckus and commotion every once in a while,” you met your eyes with his now, “i could ask you the same.”

“i-” he began, but he shook his head, his intense stare now focused on the frost-covered ground below the both of you, “nevermind, it's stupid.”

you were sure what overcame you, but you reached out to him, resting a hand in his knee as you said, “nothing you feel is ever stupid, you know.”

at your words, jiwoong’s gaze softened, and you felt like he was showing you a side of him nobody else has seen before. he seemed to be fighting something internally, and finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he quietly said, “sometimes it's nice to not have to put on a front, not always uphold this reputation i've built for myself.”

“i get it,” you offered him a genuine smile. you began to stand up, shaking a few blades of grass from your pants. you looked at jiwoong once again, who was still sat in his spot, and said, “if you ever feel like you need a break from it all, you're always welcome to join me out here. there will never be any judgement.”

“thank you, y/n,” his words were sincere.

you gave a small smile to him, nodding in acknowledgment, “goodnight, jiwoong.”

–––––

jiwoong had taken you up on your offer more than you ever anticipated, and the both of you found yourselves enjoying the company. you'd fallen into comfortable conversation, and you'd finally gotten to know more about him, and to say you were starting to develop feelings for him was an understatement.

you couldn't help but feel giddy after every late evening spent with him, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks whenever you finally made it back to your dorm and recounted each night in your head. beneath the surface that was kim jiwoong was someone who was kind and caring, always thoughtful. at least, that's the side of him that he showed to you.

this evening was different, though – you'd arrived later after serving a detention issued by umbridge earlier in the day. you stumbled down the small slope that led to your little tucked away spot, blood trickling down the length of your fingers and tears blurring your vision as you attempted to find him amidst the cloak of darkness the night had to offer.

jiwoong's usually large smile was soon replaced with a frown, a look of concern washing over his features upon seeing the state you were in, and anger dancing in his eyes the moment he took notice of your crimson coated hand. he reached out, helping you sit down, and trying his best to get you to look at him, but to no avail. you were so ashamed to be sat in front of him like this, and you almost wished you didn't even come to sit with him.

he didn't pry, though. instead, he sat there with you, the only thing filling the silence being the faint chirp of the crickets and your sniffles as you continued to cry. he reached out, grabbing your hand with his gently, and you felt your heart flutter at the gesture. he wiped away the blood with the sleeve of his robe, revealing a sentence etched deeply into your flesh.

i will not talk back.

this is when he finally broke the silence, his voice quiet, but frustration and anger laced in each and every word he spoke, “what the hell did that woman do to you?”

“made me write dozens of sentences with my own blood,” you laughed scornfully, wiping away at the tears that continued to stream down your face with your unoccupied hand.

“she's lucky i don't hex her,” he stated, which earned a quiet chuckle from you, “i mean it, y/n, i don't understand how someone can be this cruel to you.”

“just the way the world works, i suppose.”

you finally looked up at him, your glossy eyes nearly making the slytherin’s heart break right then and there. if there was anything he never wanted to see again, it was you crying. he reached out and swiped his thumb beneath your eyes, collecting the fresh tears that had just fallen. the look on his face was tender, and you felt your stomach doing backflips the longer his hand lingered on your face. but it was gone all too soon, and he looked you up and down, taking notice of your lack of robes on a night as cold as that one.

he slipped his overcoat off and draped it around your shoulders, ignoring all of your protests and securing you in the warmth that lingered inside of it. the fabric smelled so good, of expensive cologne, and you closed your eyes, quietly thanking him for such a kind gesture. you sat next to each other now, the silence comfortable but you felt yourself longing for his touch again.

you decided to be bold, to make a move, and rested your head on his shoulder. you didn't feel him tense up like you thought he might, the feeling in the air didn't change.

instead, he rested his head atop yours, gazes cast out to look at the moon as it glistened on the water.

iii.

your fifth year had come and gone, umbridge was finally out of hogwarts, and your feelings for jiwoong grew stronger by the day. your nights were spent getting cozier, sometimes his arm laid around your shoulder, other times your head in his lap, and occasionally your fingers intertwined with each other.

you'd delved into the conversation of how you didn't really acknowledge one another aside from sparing a few glances outside of these stolen moments at night, and you'd spent a great deal of time promising jiwoong you understood how much his reputation meant to him and that you were okay with how things were now.

since your sixth year was just starting, many of your classmates were our mingling and not returning until the very last possible moment, so jiwoong had mustered up the courage to invite you spend time with him in the slytherin dorm, which you'd accepted almost too eagerly. but your friends had peeved you greatly before you left, and you needed to get it off your chest. so there you were, sat on his bed, ranting to him about how some of your friends had made fun of you for not kissing anyone yet.

“i mean, i know it makes me a loser, but i don't just going around kissing people that mean nothing to me,” you stated, though you were growing more and more upset by the second.

jiwoong sat and listened quietly as you continued, his fingers tracing shapes on your back and a soft smile delicately tugging at the corners of his lips. once you finally stopped talking, you felt your cheeks heat up, surely fire engine red by now, and bashfully smiled, “sorry, i got a little carried away.”

“nothing to apologize for,” he softly responded, “and for the record, not having been kissed doesn't make you a loser.”

“i don't know, it feels like everyone around me has, my friends, strangers in the hall, hell, even you,” you replied.

jiwoong chuckled, his fingers still continuing their pattern, “actually, i haven't.”

your eyes widened at his confession and you began profusely apologizing, “i shouldn't have assumed, i’m so sorry. i just know you have a lot of friends and i figured -”

“y/n, it's alright,” jiwoong cut you off, amused with how flustered you had gotten. you were frustrated with yourself.

maybe it was because your friends had really gotten under your skin. maybe it was because you were sitting in jiwoong’s bed, surrounded by his smell, grazed with his touch. maybe it was because your feelings for him had grown impossibly big. you weren't sure, but you did know that you were embarrassed beyond belief.

a silence fell amongst you, and while you would normally welcome it, you couldn't help but feel like there was tension. not bad tension, though. you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

jiwoong parted his lips to speak, “you know, y/n, i think we might be able to help each other out in this situation.”

“please don't feel like you have to do that because i'm upset about it, i’ll be okay, really,” your eyes were as wide as saucers and you were fighting the urge to just get up and run back to your dorm, but you didn't.

instead, jiwoong reached his hand out to cup your cheek, his gaze almost unreadable, as he said, “i want to. if you'll let me, of course.”

you nodded, feeling your breath hitch in your throat as he inched closer, tilting his head as he closed the distance between the two of you, sealing your lips in a gentle, relieving kiss. he was warm and soft and so perfect. you snaked your arms around his neck, which granted him access to kiss you deeper, his hands finding purchase on your waist.

he finally pulled back, a grin immediately visible, and he asked, “how was that?”

you giggled, “perfect, you're perfect.”

he kissed you again, this time with a little more intent behind it, and molded your lips together. his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, begging for access, and you granted that to him, allowing him to explore your mouth. he shifted his weight, laying you down onto the mattress, your head resting on his silk covered pillows and arms still around his neck.

he kept one hand on your waist while the other propped him up as he hovered over you, the same smile on his face as he leaned down, hot breath fanning onto your ear as he mumbled, “you're the perfect one.”

his lips met with the tender skin of your neck, leaving gentle, but intentional kisses in a spot that made your head spin. your hands gripped the hair at the base of his neck and he chuckled, the vibration blooming as he worked his way to your jaw and back up to your lips, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

you pulled away from him, feeling slightly panicked, but he remained as calm as ever, smooth voice saying, “we don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

“it's not that, i just, i haven't…” you didn't go on to finish your sentence, because he knew what you were alluding to, and you felt relief wash over you as he whispered, “me either.”

the rest was a blur, your clothes coming off piece by piece and the soft kisses he left scattered about your body causing electricity to flow through your veins in a way you never thought it could. he was impossibly gentle, his touches feather light and his words sweet as he mumbled how beautiful you were against your skin. he kissed you through it all, making you feel so special and so cared for, and made sure your comfort was a priority.

now you were curled up into his side, one of his shirts engulfing your frame and your cheek pressed against the bare skin of his chest, listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing as the two of you laid there, basking in each other for what felt like ages. the sun was beginning to set and students would be coming in from curfew soon, so you reluctantly put your clothes back on allowed him to walk you out of the his dorm, through the common room, and back into the usual hustle and bustle of hogwarts.

“see you tomorrow?” you asked, the hopeful glint in your eyes difficult for him to miss. there was something unreadable in his expression, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and his usual soft smile he reserved for you was back.

“of course."

iv.

running late for potions was not something on your morning agenda, but here you were, sprinting through the halls in a futile attempt to make it on time. overslept and managed to get ready at a speed you never have, but since you'd started making your way there class had started. sure, it wasn't long, but it wasn't the start you wanted for your first day back at classes since having the summer off.

but your mind had been in a haze since your previous night with jiwoong and you were up late overanalyzing the look on his face that you briefly caught. you finally managed to convince yourself it was nothing, but it was mere hours before you were supposed to be awake when you finally dozed off.

you grateful to see the door to the potions classroom and even more thankful to see at least two other students hanging their heads as you walked into the room behind them. you got a scolding from professor slughorn, but you were lucky enough to scrape by without having any points taken from your house.

you slid into the first empty seat you saw, trying to tune into the lecture about the polyjuice potion, but you found yourself scanning the faces of your classmates to try and find the one you wanted, finally finding him at his potion station just a few away from you. he looked up, almost as if he could feel your gaze burning into him, and locked eyes with you all for a brief moment before he quickly turned away, cracking a joke with one of his friends.

you both did talk about the whole bit acknowledging each other that much, but you had never seen him turn away so quickly; he always at least shot a smile your way.

you blinked in confusion, but shook your head to yourself as you turned the page in your book to the recipe you needed, getting to work upon professor slughorn’s command. you somehow managed to get it perfectly on the first try, despite your mind being fuzzy, but you hoped that maybe you could talk to him later that evening about it. he was always receptive.

but your typical nightly escapade came and jiwoong was nowhere to be found. he hadn't missed a day since he first came and sat with you. your hand furiously wiped at the tears prickling at your eyes as you made your way back into the castle, heart lurching in your chest at the thought of having to go to bed without talking to him.

the next few days passed by exactly the same; he refused to look at you, avoided you in the halls, and never met you in your spot by the lake. your confused heart couldn't take much more of it, and against your better judgement one morning, you followed him amongst the sea of students when he was walking alone and grabbed his wrist, pulling him off into a secluded corridor.

he was caught off guard, but his expression turned from one of surprise to one of guilt. you did what you could to keep your voice steady, but you knew it was a matter of time before you snapped.

“why are you avoiding me?”

the silence hung thick in the air between the two of you, and jiwoong’s eyes softened when he saw the mournful expression you adorned. his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, desperate to get the words out. his expression hardened a little bit as he said his next words, “i just have my reputation to think about.”

“you've got to be joking,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “that hasn't stopped you from meeting me every night for the past year, and it certainly didn't keep you from kissing me or making your way into my pants.”

jiwoong’s face contorted into a scowl, and his words were harsh, “you just don't understand.”

you were taken aback; in all the time you've known him, from the very first day you saw him at the ceremony, he hasn't so much as given you that scowl, let alone spoken to you in such a tone. regret flashed across his face, but you were quick to the punch, “you know, jiwoong, i think i understand perfectly,” your voice was quivering now as you desperately tried to keep the lump in your throat down and the tears from spilling onto your cheeks, “you're just like people say they are.”

and with that, you stormed off from him, tears clouding your vision and the sob you'd held back ripping from your lungs, earning confused looks from the students you passed by, leaving jiwoong in your wake.

he never wanted to see you cry like you did after your detention with umbridge, but here he was, and he was the cause of it.

v.

the following weeks consisted of avoiding jiwoong at all possible costs. you sat at the tables furthest from him in the classes you shared, sat at your house table in the great hall with your back facing slytherin entirely, and not even bothering to go to the lake, because you'd seen him there waiting for you, likely to try and fix the damage he had caused. but he made himself clear, and you were going to stick to that.

you were sat now in defense against the dark arts, cracking jokes with your friends in a futile attempt to feel better, and the room grew quiet when professor snape waltzed in, his usual intolerance for the chatter evident. he soon at the front of the room, voice deep and stern, as he began the lesson, “you all are in your sixth year now, and i suspect you've learnt enough in this class to be able to hold your own in a duel.”

an excited buzz filled the room; dueling was prohibited around school grounds, so this was an exciting thing to hear him say. he looked around the room once again, as if he was analyzing each student and their abilities. finally, he said, “i want y/n and jiwoong up to the front. an unlikely pairing, but both adept and skilled in this class.”

you could feel your heart sink at hearing jiwoong’s name called with yours, but you refused to let it affect you. instead, you would show him just how hurt you were, just how much his actions affected you.

jiwoong stood up hesitantly, watching you march down to the center of the room where professor snape had conjured up boundaries, and stood waiting. he reluctantly followed suit, standing across from you as professor snape went over the rules.

“wands at the ready!”

once given the cue to duel, jiwoong's expression became that of stone; you couldn't tell what he was thinking, or how he was feeling, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. instead, you casted spells at each other relentlessly, the students surrounding you erupting in cheers at how exciting the duel was getting.

you could tell he was getting lost in thought, because he wasn't dodging as well as he could have and he was hardly sending anything back. the rest of the slytherin students began booing at him, yelling for him to get it together, and it seemed to fuel him, but it was too late.

“expelliarmus!” you shouted, knocking his wand across the room and sending his body to the ground with a thud. your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, wand still pointed at him, and anger glimmering in your eyes as you stared at him.

he was at a loss, and hung his head in shame as snape announced you as the winner of the duel.

––––

you don't know what, but later in the day you felt compelled to go to your spot by the lake. you'd only seen jiwoong there at night, so you were hoping to catch a break at some point in the place you missed so much. you were grateful to see it empty, and plopped down with your things as you basked in the sunlight beaming down on you.

you breathed in deeply, appreciating the fresh air after such an eventful day. but a voice drew you out, a very familiar one, and you could feel your chest begin to tighten, “i thought i might find you out here.”

you opened your eyes and looked up, catching sight of jiwoong, his hair disheveled and the bags under his eyes unmistakable. you felt a pang of sadness, but still said, “what do you want?”

“to talk, y/n,” the tone of his voice was desperate, pleading, “please.”

there was sincerity in his expression and you found yourself motioning for him to sit. you were silent, because you had nothing to say to him quite yet. you didn't even know what to say. so instead, you stared at him and took him in again, trying so desperately not to let yourself fall and crash, but it was no use.

you turned and looked at the lake so he couldn't see you already crying, but he knew you were. he reached out and touched your leg, and when you didn't shove him away, he inched a little bit closer to you.

“y/n, i am so sorry, truly i am.” his apology hung in the air and you let it sink in, but you weren't sure you were ready to accept it. you needed to let him know just how badly he broke your heart, and if he showed he cared, you'd let him back in.

between your sniffles, you inquired, “why? why did you ignore me? after that night i thought things were going to change, i mean they felt different, jiwoong i though that maybe -” you cut yourself off to prevent any words you didn't want spewing out, “never mind, it's stupid anyway.”

jiwoong took your hand in his, giving you an encouraging squeeze, “please just say it.”

“i just,” you sighed, choosing your words carefully, slowly turning head back toward him to meet his eyes, “i thought that after something like that, maybe you liked me in the way i like you. but then you just started ignoring me and not meeting me at night and i just started overth-”

jiwoong pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, the sparkle in his eyes as he smiled at you luring you into him, urging you to kiss him again, but you didn't, because he was already talking, “i wouldn't have kissed you or slept with you if i didn't have the most intense feelings for you.”

“then why?”

“because i’m not used to feeling like this for someone, and it scared me to no end,” his confession was barely above a whisper, and there were tears welling up in his eyes, “but i really, really like you, y/n. a lot. the reputation excuse was just because i was scared to admit this out loud.”

“oh, jiwoong, you never have to be scared with me, not ever,” your actions reflected his from the night of your detention, reaching out to cup his face, and striking away his tears. he nuzzled into your hand, looking appreciative that you seemed to understand, like you always did. he leaned forward, kissing you again, the saltiness of both of your tears mixing in with it, but it made it all that much better.

because everything was okay, and you had each other back.

[akariarda]

Secret Santa

Ninjas, Misako, Garmadon and Wu play secret Santa. (At the end you have who got who if you want to watch it right away!!)

Request from ao3!

"This is a game where we all draw names from slips of paper, and then each person buys a small gift for the one they picked," Cole explained.

"And it's called Secret Santa!" Lloyd proudly completed the thought.

"Why?" Sensei Garmadon frowned.

"Like Santa Claus," Lloyd lamented.

"And you want Misako, Garmadon, and me to play this with you?" Wu looked at them in surprise.

"Yes!" Jay exclaimed.

"Isn't that a bit strange?" Misako asked, but Jay interrupted her.

"But it's fun! The more people, the better."

"No one is allowed to reveal who they drew, Nya pointed out.

"Unless they need help, but that person can't know," Lloyd corrected her.

"And no swapping," Nya added.

"If we all understand, let's start drawing names," Pixal announced as she stood up, took the box, and handed it to everyone to draw. For a while, they stood in silence as everyone drew their slips of paper.

"So, do we put these under the christmas tree?" Misako asked.

"I propose we exchange them before Christmas dinner," Nya suggested, and everyone nodded in agreement.

~~~~~~

"Misako, who did you get?" Sensei Garmadon asked her when they entered the living room.

"I can't tell you..." Misako smiled softly.

"You must!" Sensei Garmadon insisted.

"But the rules..." Misako reminded him.

"I need help," Garmadon said desperately. "I got Nya, and I have no idea what to get a teenager girl... Please, can we switch?"

Misako contemplated this and nodded. "Then you take Wu, and I'll take Nya."

"Wu!" Sensei Garmadon sighed with relief and suddenly hugged Misako. "Thank you, thank you, this will be perfect!"

~~~~~~

"Ughg..." Kai muttered to himself, frowning.

"What’s wrong?" Zane asked curiously.

"I got someone I least wanted..."

"Garmadon?" Zane immediately guessed.

"Maybe you should ask Lloyd for advice..."

"It feels silly that so many people know, but I’ll have to," Kai sighed. "Who did you get?"

"I don’t want to tell you," Zane winked at him. "Such are the rules."

~~~~~~

Wu was sweating as he walked around the room. "I don’t know, I don’t know..." He did know what to buy, but he was reluctant. "I don’t want to support that kind of behavior!"

~~~~~~

The evening before Christmas had arrived.

"Dad?" Lloyd called as he walked into the living room. "I thought Mom was wrapping the gifts..."

"You didn’t think your father could wrap gifts?" Sensei Garmadon smiled at Lloyd's expression.

"It’s his secret talent." Misako came in from the living room.

"He thinks we’re teasing him!" Sensei Garmadon laughed as he looked at Lloyd. "Let me wrap a gift for you, and you’ll see."

"Okay," Lloyd said, handing over his present.

"Here you go!" Sensei Garmadon beamed as he wrapped it.

"You’re really good at this!" Lloyd noted with enthusiasm.

~~~~~~

"It’s time for presents!" Nya officially announced as she approached the area where the gifts were.

"Who should we start with?"

"You go first," Lloyd suggested, and Nya went to find the gift with her name on it.

"This is really beautifully wrapped," she noted. When she opened it, she found several pieces she was missing for her Samurai X suit to upgrade it.

She was puzzled because she couldn’t figure out who had gotten this for her... She had talked about it with a few people...

"Now it’s my turn," Kai said as he went to his present. "Let’s see..." He smiled and was astonished when he opened it.

Inside was a plush mouse and a training strap with the message: "May your hair no longer get in your eyes as it used to."

"Who did this?!" Kai exclaimed angrily, looking at everyone in turn.

"It’s okay, Kai..." Lloyd tried to calm him, but Kai shot a glare at Jay.

"You... I’ll get you back."

"Enough!" Nya interjected. "Kai, this is a joke, and the plush mouse is really soft."

"I didn’t mean to sound so annoyed..." Jay defended himself.

"In the end, Jay, I’m sorry." Kai said as he sat down.

Next, Jay went and found a gaming console. "Woohoo!" he exclaimed, then read the note.

"Don’t get addicted to this, and let this gift not encourage your laziness!"

"Haha, that’s you, Sensei Wu," Jay smiled.

Cole followed behind him.

"Hmm..." he mumbled as he couldn’t quite figure out what he was holding.

"Need help?" "Press the button in the middle," Pixal suggested, and Cole opened it to reveal a hiking backpack that could hold many things.

"Awesome, thanks, Pixal!"

"Haha, this isn’t really Secret Santa," Lloyd chuckled. Zane went next and found a cookbook and a chess set.

"Someone who knows me well must have gotten this..."

"More or less everyone in this room, Zane," Kai said, and everyone began to laugh.

"Lloyd, it’s your turn now," Cole prompted. Lloyd approached and found a pile of comics. Honestly, he was a bit disappointed.

"But I don’t read comics anymore..."

"These are adult comics; give them a try, and you’ll like them. I promise," Cole said, and Lloyd looked at him in surprise. "You said you drew Zane!"

"I tricked you, didn’t I?"Cole laughed at that.

Pixal went next and found many tools. "This is really useful!"

"You don’t have to sound that surprised," Wu chuckled. "So far, all the gifts have been more or less useful."

"Master, now it’s your turn!" Kai said tensely. Sensei Wu approached his present. It was so beautifully wrapped that he immediately knew Garmadon had done it.

"So, Lloyd, Misako, or Garmadon?"

"Hand it over, Sensei!" Cole said as Wu opened the gift. Inside were his favorite teas and a mug with his embarrassing picture on it, where he was wearing curlers in his beard.

"Brother!" Wu immediately recognized it.

"Admit it, the teas are spot on!" Sensei Garmadon smirked.

"When we swapped, you promised you wouldn’t buy anything silly!" Misako looked at Sensei Garmadon in surprise.

"Swapped?" Everyone glared at them.

"I got Nya and had no idea what to get a teenager girl!" Sensei Garmadon defended himself.

"Misako, you buyed me..." Nya suddenly said.

"Come on, you two!" Kai interrupted.

"Let’s go!" Misako said, playfully patting him on the back.

"Alright." Sensei Garmadon stood up and opened the gift. Inside was a purple blanket covered in blue bunnies.

"Haha." Sensei Garmadon laughed at that.

"When I suggested a blanket, I didn’t mean this!" Lloyd glared at Kai.

Misako was the last to come and opened her gift. "These are some codes?" Misako looked at the book curiously.

"I thought you’d enjoy solving them," Zane said.

"Since this wasn’t exactly Secret Santa, maybe it’s best if we all say who we got!" Sensei Garmadon began, putting his arm around Misako's shoulder.

"I like that idea," Kai said. "Then I got Garmadon..."

"I got Pixal," Lloyd said, and Pixal looked at him in astonishment.

"How did you know?"

"Zane helped me," Lloyd smiled. "Who else doesn’t know who they got?"

"I think that’s everyone," Zane said.

"Then I’ll go get something else," Misako said and went to get a tray, bringing back hot chocolates and teas.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Jay cheerfully said once more, and they all settled in to chat and enjoy.

SECRET SANTA

Misako-Nya(Wu), Garmadon-Wu(Nya)

Zane-Misako, Nya-Zane

Lloyd-Pixal, Pixal-Cole

Cole-Lloyd, Kai-Garmadon

Wu-Jay, Jay-Kai

[patolemus]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @gege-wondering-around @hedwig221b and @endwersed

“Did you kill your pack, then?” instantly, whatever good mood had settled around the table is gone. The older pack members quiet down, and even the kids notice something is amiss. Talia’s lips are pressed against each other in a thin line. Her eyes burn into her brother in clear warning. Undeterred, Peter goes on. “Is that why you never announced your presence when you arrived?”

Stiles’ smile is gone. Clearly, it wasn’t the fire that made Peter the ruthless man he once knew.

Well, then. Stiles tried to remain civil. He really did, if only for Derek’s sake. But two can play this game, and unfortunately for him, Stiles has years of ammunition.

“How’s Corinne doing? Still at the desert?” he asks, voice purposely kept light even when his eyes lose all their life. Opposite to him, Sarah takes a sharp breath. Both Peter and Talia look startled, but Stiles has only eyes for Peter. He wants the man to know these words are for him. “Didn’t she have kids? Twins, I think. I wonder what happened to them,” then, finally, Stiles slides his gaze to Talia. She looks like she doesn’t know whether to try to silence him or to run out of the room, which is a new look for her. Stiles had never taken the great Talia Hale for a runner before.

Besides him, Derek tugs at his wrist, momentarily taking his attention. Stiles spares him a look, feeling bad when he notices Derek’s expression. He looks confused. He looks hurt. Worse, he even looks a little betrayed. Like he’s not sure who Stiles is anymore.

He swallows hard once. Then turns back to look at Peter and Talia.

things are getting heavyyyyy by my estimation I'm like 5 chapters from being done. let's hope it stays that way. tagging @salty-fryingpan @dear-massacre and @dontcallpanic