#common scar w

[latenightdaydreams]

Christmas Party w/ König

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw:fem/afab, drinking, p in v, public-ish sex

🎅

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König loses a bet with Horangi and comes into work dressed as Santa Claus during the small Christmas party being held in the common room. While everyone is sitting around and eating food while chatting, a heavy silence falls upon the room when König’s heavy footsteps disrupt the festivities. 

In the doorway he stands with a scowl hidden beneath his cheap Santa beard. It’s the most anyone has seen of his face before, the only reason everyone knows it’s König is because of his massive size. The silence is disrupted by Horangi’s loud cackles; one arm wrapped around his abdomen as he points with his other hand. 

“You look so fucking stupid!” Horangi nearly falls off of his chair. 

König says nothing just walking in with a velvety sack over his shoulder. He walks up to Horangi and simply pushes his head to the side in anger. “Shut up.” He hisses. 

You sit there giggling softly. König notices, blushing softly. He clears his throat trying to push down the butterflies he always gets when he’s near you. Walking past you, he sits on an empty chair and leans back. 

Most people in the room go back to their small conversations, but you, with the courage of heavily spiked eggnog, stand from your seat and make your way over to König. He looks up at you with a surprised look on his face. Before he can say anything to you, you sit on his lap and place an arm around his shoulder. 

“Hey there, Santa.”

“Hallo…” König’s voice cracks as he looks into your glimmering eyes. 

Horangi looks at you sitting on his lap with astonishment. 

“Am I on the naughty or nice list this year?” You ask giggling. 

That giggle. 

“You…” his eyes unintentionally drop to the curve of your breasts, “are on the nice list.” 

“Am I?” You reach out and tug on his beard, lightly letting it snap back against his face. 

“Ja…”

König can feel his cock beginning to grow erect as you wiggle on his lap slightly. The side of your leg rubbing against the crotch of his red Santa pants. His heart thumps in his chest as he tries his best to act unaffected by your presence. 

“That’s a shame. I wanted to be on the naughty list.”

“Why would you want that?” He asks, chuckling slightly. 

You giggle at the sound of his nervous chuckle. The light in the room makes his pale blue eyes shimmer in yours. His cock twitches slightly, bumping your leg and causing your attention to drift downwards. 

“Maybe I wanted Santa to punish me.”

“Punish you?”

“Punish me.” You lean closer to him as you speak, the smell of the alcohol on your lips wafts to his nose. 

König stands, grasping the plump flesh on your ass and hips, fingers digging in, as his hips ram into yours at a quick pace. His red pants dropped and resting around his ankles. Your loud drunken moans fill the room as your breasts bounce free from your blouse.

“Naughty girl.” König growls as his wide palm comes down to spank your ass, leaving a red mark in its wake. 

“Fuck yes! Punish me with your fat cock!” You cry out as you feel the stinging burn from the slap. 

“Perfect fucking ass…” Is all you’re able to understand before König begins to speak in German. Telling you how long he’s been wanting to feel you wrapped around his cock, see you underneath him. 

A smile crosses your face as your body feels as if it’s floating on a cloud of pure ecstasy. You can feel yourself drop down the side of your leg each time his cock pulls out before pulling a pathetic moan from you once he buries himself back inside of you. Your head turns to look at him, the Santa beard barely even in his face, exposing his scarred handsome face. His eyes meet yours and he simply smirks before grasping a handful of your hair and forcing your face down. 

Outside the door Horangi and a few other soldiers stand with jaws dropped and looks of shock on their faces. The sound of the creaking desk, flesh on flesh, and orgasmic pleasure pour out into the hallway where they stand.

[saszor]

hi!!! sorry if this is dumb, big fan of your how to draw burns tutorial ^w^ i was wondering if you had any tips for drawing chemical burns?? i've had a few minor chemical burns myself but i can't figure out how to consistently draw extensive chemical scarring :<

Hey! I've answered a very similar question somewhere in the comments to that post so I'll copy it here;

acidic burns tend to be much more severe and result in a lot more tissue loss than from a thermal burn of similar severity. So features like missing noses, eyes, ears, etc. are more common because it's corrosive. Skin also tends to be tighter and more shiny in acid burns than in thermal ones, but I don't know much about non-acidic burns unfortunately.

That'd generally be the biggest difference for acid burns vs thermal burns from what I've noticed. Here are some examples of how a chemical burn could (!) look like on the face area;

But as I said, I don't know much about other kinds of chemical burns and there might be stuff about alkaline ones that's completely different from anything I said here, so keep that in mind if that's what you're planning to draw

[jemiswumbo]

bulletproof love (18+)

twitchstreamer!luke x reader

author’s note: omgg this oneshot took all my blood sweat and tears to produce. i am NOT a graphic designer. i do NOT normally write smut. but this idea had to come to fruition before i went insane. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

title is from bulletproof love by pierce the veil. lyrics have no correlation but it IS a certified banger.

tags/warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral (m receiving). use of y/n. not proofread. kinda long. teeheehee etc.

i.

You met Luke Castellan at the grocery store.

He looked like a completely normal (albeit, very attractive) guy in his twenties. His dark curls fell slightly over his warm, chocolate brown eyes. A mischievous smirk was plastered across his cheeks, showing off a small dimple on the left side. He wore a simple hoodie and sweats as he perused the pasta aisle, picking up different jars of sauce and reading the labels absentmindedly. He did, however, have an interesting scar sitting jagged over his cheekbone, but it was so faint that you hadn’t noticed it until way later on.

You would have never guessed he was a near millionaire with close to a million social media followers. You would have never guessed he spent the majority of his life not at the grocery store, but rather streaming FPS and RPG games for an average of fifty thousand views at a time.

You would have never guessed he’d take a liking to you.

You, who worked part time at this very grocery store. You, who didn’t really know the first thing about video games, except that they were confusing and it was insane that some people could build ridiculously complex structures at a mind-boggling speed on Fortnite whilst also shooting with godly precision.

He had backed into you accidentally whilst you were restocking a shelf, causing you to drop a couple glass jars that cracked open upon impact with the floor. You apologized, even though you’d really done nothing wrong. He obviously thought you attractive (or maybe he just didn’t leave the house much?) because his idea of an apology was taking you out to some lavishly expensive dinner the next night.

The dinner was okay but the conversation is what got you hooked. He was so sweet and told you so many wild stories that had you laughing until your chest ached. He paid for the meal and held your hand on the drive home. When he dropped you off, he casually told you his Instagram handle and told you to shoot him a follow. You blushed, smiled, and scurried inside.

You just about died when you saw his profile.

ii.

It’s been about a year since you had started dating Luke Castellan, otherwise known as his twitch handle “SonofHermes.”

(“Because he’s the messenger god, right? In, like, Greek Mythology? And I felt like a damned messenger god when I was a moderator for four different discord servers and a twitch chat—“)

Luke’s twitch streams occured mostly every night, from 8pm to about 3am. He always began his streams with some FPS game (Overwatch, Valorant, CS:GO, or something similar). After a few hours he would swap over to a different game for his variety segment. His chat was hilarious. They loved to tease Luke and joke around with him and donate silly messages. And, of course, because Luke was so very attractive, a decent chunk of his fan base was dedicated towards swooning over his every word and look and smile.

You, honestly, never really minded. Mostly because Luke was yours. You were sure the thirsting from chat would diminish once they knew you were dating. But… you really, truly, had no desire to be in the public eye. Having nearly a million people know your name and your face was daunting and scary. You also had enough common sense to realize that some of his fans were probably batshit crazy and would send you hate and death threats for dating Luke. You were a part time employee and a student; you did not need another reason on top of that to have poor mental health.

Luke loved you unconditionally and that was all that mattered. You were perfectly content spending most evenings to yourself. He was a good boyfriend, though, and did schedule days off to take you out and show you incredible amounts of love and support. You were both very happy and secure in your relationship.

One particular evening, you were staying over at Luke’s apartment. It was a Friday, and you had no work tomorrow, so he bought alcohol and weed and selected a list of movies to marathon. It was basically your most ideal way to spend the weekend.

That was, until, Luke’s gamer friends messaged him on discord, begging him to join their Rust server to defend their group base.

Luke had met these friends through Twitch events and game conventions. There was Percy, who streamed with his girlfriend Annabeth. They were one of the most adored couples in the gaming community. They all lived in the same state, so Luke hung out with them pretty often. There was also Grover, who was Percy’s roommate and would join his streams from time to time. As well, there was Thalia, who was a huge advocate for women in eSports, and played in a professional league. Luke had introduced them too you a few months ago, and they all swore to help keep your relationship a secret.

The five of them often played different games together, as most of their fanbases consisted of the same people, so it really raked in the views and made for good content. Plus, it was just really fun. You knew how much Luke loved his friends and cherished the times they got to play together.

The Rust server was a recent hyperfixation that you were positive would fade once a new MMO came out to grab their attention. But, you were also aware of how much time and effort Luke had spent constructing this base of his.

“Go,” you said, noticing his confliction. “You can have one hour to play. Stream, too, so I can watch out here. But after that, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said with his devilish grin. He kissed you hard, leaving a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He hurried off to his bedroom, where he kept his gaming setup, and shut the door.

You were fine with spending an hour alone. Flipping through Netflix, you cracked open a bottle of wine and relaxed into the sofa.

One hour went by fast. Luke didn’t return to the living room.

You picked up your phone and opened the Twitch app, clicking on Luke’s stream. He was currently in the middle of some intense adventure with Percy. Luke’s webcam was situated in the top left corner of the game feed, and he looked so cute and handsome under the glow of the monitor and the purple LED lights.

To be honest, the wine was getting to you. You felt such a strong desire to be near Luke and to feel him and be with him. He bit his lip on camera, deep in concentration, and that action alone had your heart rate increasing.

“Fuck it,” you said, turning off the TV and standing up from the couch. His hour was up, and it was time to take the matter into your own hands.

iii.

Luke enjoyed playing his games with the volume high in his headphones. It allowed him to feel like he was actually in the game, and unaware of the outside world. This also was an issue, because more often than not he would lose track of time and forget about his plans and scheduled events.

He just couldn’t help it — he loved video games. Currently, he was busy perfecting his base on Rust so it wouldn’t be broken into again. It took a lot of effort and concentration, and Percy and Grover dicking around and goofing off did nothing to help his focus.

So, it only made sense that he didn’t notice his bedroom door opening. The door wasn’t in frame on his camera, so he didn’t see it open, either. He didn’t notice it close. He didn’t notice you, getting down on all fours and crawling over to his desk setup.

He didn’t notice you, at all, until you put a hand on his leg.

Luke jumped a bit and glanced down, meeting your mischievous glance and the naughty smile on your cheeks.

“Uh, chat — sorry, gotta go to the bathroom, one sec —“ Luke rushed out. He shut off his camera and muted his mic, double checking that it was definitely muted by quickly scanning the latest messages in his chat:

He rolled his eyes at the messages, and pushed his chair back, glaring at you on the floor. “Baby, what the hell are you doing?!”

You smiled. “I was just missing you, is all.”

“So you snuck in — wait, shit, you said one hour. It’s been an hour hasn’t it?” Luke said, running a hand through his messy curls.

You nodded, and gave a weak shrug. “It’s okay, though. I think it would be fun if we also played a game of our own.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, feeling a blush form on his cheeks. “What’re .. what’re you suggesting?”

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed to the floor, leaving you in a lacy black bra and your mini skirt. You let your fingers linger on the strap of your bra. “I’ll let you stream longer. But.. once you cum, you have to shut it off.”

“You want to blow me on stream?” Luke asked, incredulously. He could already feel himself start to harden at the thought of this ‘game’ of yours occurring.

“Like, secretly, though.” You said with a slight eye roll. “You can try to keep your composure for as long as you can, but you’ll be all mine for the rest of the night. Okay?”

Luke took a minute to ponder. If he somehow got caught… the consequences would be severe. His reputation would be tarnished. He’d lose his job and his income and the entire career he had worked so hard to build.

But on the other hand.. you looked really fucking sexy, staring at him with your doe-eyes, feigning innocence in the most seductive lingerie he’d ever seen you in.

“Fuck’s sake.” Luke pulled his chair back towards his desk. He tugged his sweatpants down to his ankles, giving you a face full of his half hard cock and his toned, muscular thighs. “You have to be quiet too, you little slut. I seriously cannot get caught.”

“Of course,” you replied, slightly moaning as you took his length into your hand. “You’re so incredibly attractive.”

“Shut up,” Luke said, adjusting his camera angle to absolutely ensure it cut off at his upper chest and nothing lower than that was visible. He took a deep breath and was about to rejoin his stream, when you began sucking him off. “Fuck!”

You pulled your lips off of him with a loud pop. “Come on, Lukey, you can last longer than that.”

“You’re mouth feels so fucking good though,” Luke groaned, threading his fingers through your hair. He took another deep breath and guided your head back to his cock, which was now fully hard and aching for your mouth. This time, when you licked up his shaft, he was more prepared and was able to maintain his chill composure. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’m turning my stuff back on. Be quiet, please.”

You nodded, slowly taking him back into your warm mouth.

Luke turned on his camera. He turned on his mic. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his mouse and keyboard. “Okay, I’m back. Chat, please tell me Percy and Thalia didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”

“Hey!” You heard, faintly from Luke’s headset. “We didn’t do anything, and if your chat says otherwise, they are lying!”

You giggled as quietly as you could, and clearly the vibrations from such movement felt good for Luke, because you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Wh-whatever. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to work.” Luke said defensively.

“What?” Percy asked. “You sound weird, man. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Luke replied, too quickly and at an octave higher than he normally speaks. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous. He was terrible at being subtle.

“Okay…” This was a girl’s voice, and sounded like Thalia. “My chat agrees that you’re being weird.”

“Same.” Percy agreed.

“Yeah, well,” Luke scanned his second monitor to check in on how his chat was reacting. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My chat is being dumb, as per usual.”

Below the desk, your nerves had subsided and instead you became preoccupied with the notion of possibly getting caught. It was kind of twisted but this caused your lower region to dampen. You lifted your short little skirt over your hips and moved your lacy underwear to the side, giving you access to finger yourself.

You moaned, with your mouth full of thick, heady cock, and brain slightly foggy from the wine consumption. You were close already.

“What?” Luke said, clearly reading something on his monitor. “Chat, that was my phone vibrating on my desk. I did not moan over that headshot Percy made. Be so for real”

“Rude,” Percy said. “I would’ve moaned. I’m like, the god of gaming.”

“Loser.” Luke responded, biting his lower lip and slightly bucking his hips into your mouth. He must’ve been getting close, too.

From that moment on, you were desperate to make Luke finish. You abandoned your slow and gentle place, and took his entire cock down your throat. You silently gagged, and bobbed your head up and down, making sure to suck a bit longer on his leaking tip. You grabbed his balls in your right hand and squeezed, keeping your left hand on his upper thigh.

“Fuck,” Luke murmured, just under his breath. You sucked harder in response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What is going on, dude?” Percy questioned. “You’re stressing me out.”

Luke glanced over at his chat again.

Luke flipped a middle finger to his camera, and gave a playful, “Chat, you all suck.” Obviously, he loved his fans and was eternally grateful for their support. It was just fun to mess around with them and feign a love hate relationship. It did make him a bit anxious, however, that everyone easily picked up on the fact that something was affecting Luke. It didn’t exactly help that he was really close to finishing and was starting to lose track of what was happening in the game. All he could feel was his cock going in and out and in and out of your soft lips, that were now coated in a mixture of salvia and his precum. It was just about driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were knuckle deep inside your own cunt and sucking Luke off with so much fervour your jaw was starting to ache. But you loved the feeling. And you were determined to get him off. Now.

Suddenly, Luke felt the familiar feeling build inside himself. Before he realized it was happening, he was shooting thick ropes down your eager throat. “Fuck!” he screamed, legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered and gasped for air as you did not let up on your pace, sucking every last drop of cum from him.

He realized how fucking weird this whole ordeal must’ve looked to his many (many, many) viewers.

Instead of confronting what just happened, he slammed his mouse on the End Stream button and shut off his computer, without so much as a goodbye. He pushed his chair back and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

You smiled at him sweetly, a sheen of sweat covering your entire body. Luke leaned down and kissed you hungrily.

“Y/n,” he said, once he was out of breath from such an intense kiss. “I.. Need. To be inside of you. And you can never, ever do that again.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed innocently. “Kinda seemed like you really liked it though.”

“Oh, shut up.” Luke said with a grin. “Bed. Now.”

You obliged, heading over to his comfy queen sized bed, unaware that you were about to have the most mind blowing sex of your entire life.

authors note: aaaaa ok. first of all i’d like to apologize. i have not proofread this at all and i wrote each chunk on separate days. i will proofread it eventually and fix the errors lmao.

also! now that all the ~lore~ to this AU is sorted, if you ever wanna send me twitchstreamer!luke specific prompts, i would ADORE THAT.

thank you all again for reading !!!!! <3

taglist: @notacluelessblonde00 @lilyirlevans

[bitchimasnake-sss]

simple agreements ft. roronoa zoro!

anon asked "secret relationship w/ zoro". hope you enjoy your meal<3

set-up: you and zoro have only one thing in common: you loathe each-other. well, no, not really. another thing you have in common is how perfectly you ruin each other. his calloused hands mold you into his little plaything and your wicked moans are his demise. good luck fucking around my dude👍 [note that this drabble is set before the reader and zoro start dating!!] warnings: sex, so much sex. nsfw thoughts include blowjob, cunnilingus, shower sex, fingering, exhibition kink (slightly), creampie, lots and lots of porn logic too because why not buddy?

💚 there was nobody on this ship that you loathed more than the first mate. his cocky ass, his tendencies to think he was better than you and his massive dick ego. didn't help that your older brother sanji hated him too. but that's the exact reason why this felt so right. his weight was heavy against yours, his hand on your mouth to drown down any moans and sighs that fell past your pretty lips and his shy grunts against the shell of your ears. the swordsman pressed his chest to yours, trapping you between his towering figure and the wall of your shower. water droplets cascaded down his sculpted back, making their way over the ridges and scars as his dick abused your cunt. a harsh roll of his hips and his abs glided deliciously against your clit, making you shudder in pure, unfiltered ecstasy. "zo-zoro ngh fuc-" your muffled moans got trapped between his calloused palms and the sound of the shower running. it was all so lewd, so unbecoming of you.

the way his hand came off your mouth, trailing downwards your soaked body to support your hips. the way his mouth was on yours, chapped lips drinking up any wayward whimper you offered. the way you tipped your head upwards and he sunk his teeth against your collarbone, a mark to be kept hidden from the rest of the crew. "fu-uck, shi-" he snuck in a grunt. his pelvis smacked against yours and you caught your lips between your teeth to hold back the pornographic moans. he let out a airy chuckle, leveraging his abs to tease your pulsating clit with every hard back and forth of his cock against your throbbing cunt. his face dropped down into the crook of your neck, hot air hitting your cold skin in desperate pangs. with every shuddered hit of his cock, you found the coil in your gut tightening. with every tease against your puffy clit, you found your eyes rolling backwards and your pussy clenching automatically against the thick girth you were currently being split on. "zo-Ro- hah fucK FU-" your voice climbed up octaves and he found his needy lips against yours again, a silent request to keep quiet. his pace grew desperate, cock sliding in and out of you mindlessly. like goddamn animals in heat. with a particular sharp bite to your bottom lip, your vision went white. and he pulled out just to finish on your inner thighs, the white so beautiful against your skin. "fuck, zoro." you panted, breathless as you slumped against his broad chest. your cheek nestled against the scar that ran on his torso and he supported your figure through the jitters of his own aftershocks. after moments had passed in bliss, he finally lowered you downwards to the ground. you balanced your weight against the wet, tiled wall. zoro dropped his face forward, letting it nestle into the crook of your neck before whispering, "i forget just how much i love that fucking pussy." "how can you forget when we do this practically every third day?" you hummed, teasing, "but yeah, dick's not half bad." he raised his head upwards, lips curled into an amused smirk, "you should shower. i'm gonna leave before that shitty cook comes looking out for you and catches me fuckin' his baby sister." you pinched the taut skin of his bicep, throwing him a nasty look, "don't talk smack about sanji, asshole." but he just shrugged and walked away. before walking out, he looked back at you, giving you a rehearsed look, "my room tonight. after everyone's fallen asleep, yeah?"

💚well, you and zoro weren't an item. or friends with benefits. atleast that's what you had convinced yourself because godfuckingdammit he fucked good, but he was such a headache. he would always find ways to annoy you, to push your buttons, to raise your hackles. but both you and the mosshead had reduced it to only one simple equation: you guys fucked when you were horny and went back to the normal after that. simple as that. except nobody knew. so, you were just sneaking behind everyone's back. sometimes, when you were on your way to shower, zoro sneaked in, fucked you against those walls and left you to your own devices once he had seen the milky white against your skin. other times you were sprawled on his bed, choking down on moans as his nose teased your clit and his tongue dove into your wet folds, pulling out orgasms out of your convulsing body. one time, the crew was out to explore the town, and you sneaked in on him, waking him up with the feel of your mouth on his dick. as i said: simple equation of giving and taking, limited to closed doors and sleepless nights. it was not more than that.

💚but now the swordsman was crossing that line, trying to take you all for himself in front of everyone. you had docked next to a barren beach island, and it was your captain's idea that you should all have a campfire. the entire crew was huddled next to the fire, lounging on sunbathing chairs (robin's favorites) that they had brought down from the deck. despite your brother's loud protests, nami had dared you to sit on zoro's lap on of the chairs after playing an impromptu game of truth or dare. she claimed "it would be hilarious." but you knew that she knew that you were both fucking around. and naturally, she just wanted to make you and zoro squirm. eitherways, nami had persisted and zoro had given in after much tight-lipped remarks. you gave him a sorry smile as you dropped your body weight on him. your plush thighs were set aside on one side as you were perched on the swordman's lap. but his hands found your hips, his touch so familiar yet distant, and he re-adjusted you such that you were now straddling him. thighs on either side of him, you leaned back onto him. and you could feel the light thump of his heartbeat light pangs of air across the back of your neck. as seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours, you found your body growing hot. found your hips shifting on their own, trying to tease, to coax out any fucking reaction out of him. but, behind you zoro had closed his eyes, the soft rise and fall of his chest so achingly familiar. and now, you were stuck with a animalistic feeling churning in your core, ready to be satisfied by his thick fingers. after much squirming and practically no reaction from him (other than a half-hearted erection poking against your wet slit), you huffed in defeat and focused on the crew. your eyes swept over the scene in front of you; robin and franky talked among themselves over something. brook sung as luffy, chopper and ussop put on a dance performance. nami was helping sanji cook something on the grill. but none of it was good enough to take your mind off your weeping cunt, the slick dripping out and latching onto the cotton underwear as a desperate cry for relief. you pressed your hot core against his clothed tent and pressed down. a silent plea. do something, please. but ofcourse, zoro, ever the (not) gentleman just groaned lowly, not even bothering to crack open an eye to see your crumbling state. and you had to take matters in your own hands.

💚you had given them all a half-hearted excuse, telling them "i'm not feeling the best, i think im gonna go lay down." just to sneak into your room and buck your hips wildly against your own palm, trying to feel something. your gate was pushed back and you quickly pulled your hand out of your shorts, acting as if you were asleep. "quit actin'." the swordsman quipped up, amused, "i know you're not sick. what? hiding away from the crew to come fuck yourself? that's a bit desperate, isn't it?" "i wouldn't have been this desperate had you not been so unresponsive." "oh?" he raised an eyebrow, his larger hands grabbing you by your wrists and taking you outside, "come on then." "wha-t? zoro?" you tried to ask but he brought you out to the deck instead. he pressed your front against the railings, making you peer down at your crewmates instead. it was well into the night and on a moonless night as the one today, you are zoro were practically hidden in plain sight. the crew was unassuming, they were dancing and singing and you found sanji looking upwards at the ship every now and then, possibly wondering about you. "zoro?" you whispered again but he pressed his back to you, forcing your skin to touch the cold metal. he kissed away at the goosebumps that painted your skin, his hands trailing down to cup your ass and squeeze it. his breath was hot on your shoulder, "i'm sorry," he mumbled in mock distress, "did i ignore you too much?" bringing his hand to your front, he slipped it past the waistband of your shorts. feeling the wet patch on the fabric, you found his lips curled into a feral grin against your skin, "ah? so fuckin' wet already?" "pl-please," your words had lost all resolve, dissolving into the cold night air. he pressed an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder, travelling up to your neck as his index finger pressed down on your clit, "please what?" "—please fuck me" "awh, so fucking desperate." he cooed in your ear as his hands pulled down your shorts and panties down in one swift go. the night air was too rough on your exposed, sensitive pussy. zoro pressed his hand over your core, "not so soon, let's have some fun, yeah?"

💚"nghh- fucK fuck fuck" you bit down on your lip, eyes glistening with unresolved tears as his fingers pumped in and out of you. his other hand was teasing your clit, abusing the bundle of nerves to deliver your third orgasm. your body jerked, shivered, burned under his touch. and you spoke hoarsely, "zo-zoro stop, stop please." he licked a clean stripe up your neck, nibbling on the lobe of your ear, "why would i do that?" "they're gonna- he-hear me —ngh shit." your knees bucked as he pushed his fingers in and out of you faster. your eyes fluttered shut, mouth agape and chest heaving, "i-i'm gonna cum, i can't." "come on, one more." he huffed as your walls spasmed around his digits and you came undone on him once more with a silent cry lodged in your throat. you slumped forward, forehead glistening with sweat and words barely a coherent audio. and then, sanji looked up again, straight at you somehow, "HEY!" he yelled from below, "YOU OKAY? FEELING ANY BETTER?" your eyes widened at the possibility of your brother seeing you get ruined at the hands of his crewmate but when sanji gave you a genuine smile and yelled up, "SHOULD I COME UP AND LOOK AFTER YOU?", you realized he must not have been able to see zoro behind you. zoro who ran his palm up and down your body till he saw fit. zoro who had apparently caught onto the fact that sanji can't see him. zoro who was dragging his cock against your quivering cunt as gathering your sweet juices at his tip. your breath got caught in your throat and any words you wanted to say to sanji got locked there. but zoro egged you on from behind, cooing softly, "answer him." his tip teased your overstimulated pussy, "if he comes up, he's gonna see you get fucked like my personal fucking slut." that made your voice return to your tongue. "NO! DON'T COME UP!" you yelled back at sanji, voice weak and worn out, "I'M O-" and zoro decided it was a great time to sink his cock into your velvety hole, "OH- OKAY! I'M OKAY." sanji looked up at you skeptical and so did the whole crew. you gave them a smile (which wouldn't have been visible in the night anyways) and yelled back, "YOU GUYS ENJOY OKAY? I AM JUST GON-ah ah- GONNA OBSERVE FROM ABOVE! KIN-DA TIRED IS ALL!" all while zoro dragged his hungry cock into you, pounding into you at an animalistic pace. it's a miracle that the crew went back to what they were doing although sanji casted dubious looks on your wrecked figure every once in a while.

"zo-zoro" you whispered slowly, once you were sure they weren't looking at you, "don't, they're gon' they're gonna see." but the idea of getting caught, the idea of the entire crew seeing just how well you took his dick made him go insane. it made him move faster, harder, almost in a way that had you crying out for any god to get salvation. his hands dug into the flesh of your hips, "let them see, hah— i wanna show everyone what i've done to their pretty, little girl. turned her into a fucking whore— fuck, my whore." and he fucked into your spasming walls harder. you came undone on his cock, your throbbing core clenching and squeezing down on him till he lost sight of himself. his breath grew ragged, hands dug harder into your flesh as if to seer himself there, his thrusts became more and more erratic till he found himself spilling inside your abused hole. zoro stumbled forward, slumping against your back. his dick still stuffed inside of you, his hot fluid still trapped inside you. "hah-shit." the swordsman panted and you breathed hard along with him, finding some comfort in the way your rapid breaths aligned. he pulled out of you and zoro moaned quietly at the view of your pussy fluttering around nothing as the milky fluid travel down your thighs. he whispered, so low you could barely hear him, "you're so fuckin' gorgeous, fuck." and then, he found himself picking you up in his arm and taking you to the bathroom. you looked up at the swordsman and drunk in his features. the sweat beads cascading down his neck, his reddened bottom lip (possibly from stopping himself to make sounds) and his furrowed brows as he looked down at you. he asked, "what?" "nothing." you shook your head. a grin made it's way onto his face, a devious idea brewing in his head, "what do you say, round two in the shower?"

a/n: oh my, i woke up and wrote smut first thing in the morning, how wonderful :); [the plain divider by @viixcyre and flower one by @plutism]

[bhosadverse]

I'll kiss you (when you're not about to sneeze in my face)

james potter x gn!reader (friends to lovers)

a/n: is my obsession w using parentheses in titles obvs? duh. also this was inspired from this

c/w: fluff, implied gryffindor reader but not rlly, side wolfstar and rosekiller, cat allergies!!!! (james is allergic), usage of nicknames like 'babe' and 'doll' and 'angel', nothing else i can think of so lmk if i missed smth

The sun is shining prettily through the stained glass of the common room windows. As you stretch on the couch, lazily rereading one of your favourite books, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps dashing downstairs. Plopping up from your relaxed position, you turn to look at the staircase just as your favourite redhead-blonde duo appear, talking animatedly about something. Spotting your slacked form, Lily beelines towards the couch, immediately drawing a sound of protest from your lips as you notice her determined expression.

"Come on! You can't waste away a sunny day inside." A petulant whine escapes your lips at her words. "Lils, please, I'm reading!" Marlene tuts in response, now standing behind the couch with her hands on her hips as she looks down at your form much like she's a doctor analysing a patient. "Babe, no. You're turning into a snob."

Lily rolls her eyes at her crass words. "What Marls means is that you should come out with us to enjoy the sun while we can. Winter's almost here, please! You can still read your book too." Scoffing at her pleading form, you cross your arms in feigned irritation, "Stop pouting like that." Marlene nods behind you, agreeing. "Yeah Lils, stop pouting, and help me." "Help you do wha—Marlene McKinnon, unhand me right now!" You shriek with slight outrage as she grabs your hands from behind, giving Lily the cue to tickle you. The redhead looks at you with a devious grin, making you wonder what Professor McGonagall was thinking, making her a prefect. "What's it gonna be, love? Coming with us to the grounds or a merciless tickle attack?" Knowing you can do nothing but yield, you surrender to their whims, making them cheer. Grumbling, you straighten your clothes, glaring at the two, although there is no real heat in your eyes as the three of you start walking.

Chatting idly and affront forgiven, your trio reaches your destination after what seems like an unnecessarily long walk, finding the rest of your friends dawdling about near the lake. "Meadowes!" Marlene hollers, from beside you, her infatuation with the Slytherin painfully obvious as she draws the attention of not only your friends but also half the population on the grounds. You watch as Dorcas, Sirius, Remus and Peter turn their attention to the lot of you as you approach them, immediately taunting the boys, "Where's the funnier one of your group?" 

Sirius scoffs, pulling you down next to him playfully. "And here I thought you loved me. It's always the ones you trust the most." You huff in response, swatting him with your hardcover copy lightly. "The truth hurts, Black." You're saved from his inevitable retaliation when Remus beckons you closer. You abandon his other half, scooting up next to the scarred boy with appreciation evident in your expression which drops as soon as he opens his mouth. "James is over there," he nods sassily at the familiar group of Slytherins lazing around further along the water's edge. It's actually not even the entire group of them, just Barty and Evan cuddled up under a tree, with James crouching near them, apparently held in conversation. The sight is so peculiar that you're surprised you didn't notice them sooner. Remus gives you an impish smirk, knowing all about your feelings for the bespectacled boy and you roll your eyes at his nerve. Standing up, you brush off your robes and mumble to your friends who are all giving you knowing looks, "I'll be right back." Sirius eyes you, and then James, teasing salaciously, "Take your time, doll." He receives another swat of the book and a few creative insults before you start walking along the edge of the lake, overhearing the….one-sided conversation he seems to be having? "God, aren't you precious?" he whispers, which makes Barty snicker mockingly, "It's a lost cause, Potter." He looks up at you when your shadow blocks the sunlight from his face, jeering derisively, "Come to collect your boyfriend?" You roll your eyes for the hundredth time and grumble, "We're not dating, Junior." 

Before he can say something else that would get him punched, James turns to you, sniffling. "Hi, angel. How are you?" You find yourself horrified as you take in his form. "James, what the hell? Are you petting a cat?" You almost shout, noticing the black little ball of fur near his feet. His face breaks into a grin, even though it looks slightly strained. "Yes! He's so cute, isn't he?" You vaguely hear Barty snicker again as Evan admonishes him half-arsedly but your eyes are on your friend who is apparently stupid enough to pet a cat even when he's allergic. 

"Did you forget you're allergic or are you petting that cat knowing you're allergic?" You sigh exasperatedly, suddenly feeling a lot like a single mother of four. James has the decency to look sheepish. "I, uh, didn't forget." He says quietly, like he's disappointed in himself too. He immediately picks up the cat, holding it in front of him like a shield, "But look at him, angel, he's so cute!" You huff in annoyance, immediately taking the admittedly adorable, yowling cat who looks like he is a few seconds away from scratching James' eyes out, and place it on the ground, albeit gently. "Get up, James, we're leaving." James looks down at the cat, almost mournfully before nodding and standing up. "Goodbye, Angel of Darkness." He whispers down to the cat, his voice barely audible, much like a wife's tender farewell to her husband deploying to war. He doesn't see your bewildered expression since he's still bent over the cat, bidding adieu, but the couple under the tree do, Barty giggling like he finds something terribly funny and Evan smirking, although if that is at his boyfriend's laughter or at the supposedly amusing situation, you're not sure. You ignore it, grabbing James' arm and pulling it lightly, making him turn, the both of you slowly ambling towards your friends.

James, his arm still in your grasp, mumbles, "Godric, my eyes are so itchy." You give him a criminally offensive side eye but stay silent, unaware that you will deeply regret this decision later. You almost laugh, wondering whether you should judge him for apparently being so dumb or be charmed by his frankly endearing behaviour, when James stops in his tracks beside you, making you halt as well. You turn to him, questioning, before you freeze too, absolutely stock still. "James," you start in a heavily measured tone. "Did you…did you rub your eyes?" "No." He replies instantaneously, although the way his eyes, red enough to rival a vampire, are watering rapidly indicate the opposite. You sigh through your nose, crossing your arms and levelling a glare at him. "Try again." He meets your gaze with chagrin, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, although that may just be due to the reaction. "Um, yes." 

You shake your head, sighing for the fiftieth time, probably, as you turn around, detouring towards the castle, expecting him to follow. "Angel, I'm sorry!" He apologises immediately, guilt etched on his features like he isn't the one with a runny nose and itchy eyes, and other, probably worse symptoms. Your eyes soften and your pace slows, "Jamie, I'm not mad at you, I'm just worried." His face breaks into a warm grin at that, and even though he looks like shit, a reciprocating smile tugs on your lips instantly. "About me?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily and you roll your eyes, the heat on your face matching his own. "Tosser." You mumble, trying to school your features into a stern glare half-heartedly as you scold in fake annoyance. "But you know you wouldn't have survived in the Muggle world, right? You're so lucky you have Madam Pomfrey." 

He takes hold of your hand lightly, stopping the both of you from walking further as you turn to look at him curiously. "I'm lucky I have you too." He says tenderly, eyes soft and touch softer where his hand holds yours. "Your sycophantic tactics won't work on me, Potter." You reply, although your heart stutters in your chest, the way he is looking at you making you nervous. "Oh? What about a kiss? Will that work?" He murmurs softly, your eyes widening as you watch him step closer to you, head ducked to meet your gaze. His face is suave, warm eyes flickering to your lips with intention. However, there is a bit of vulnerability in them too, a hint of nervousness that contrasts the coy persona he is putting up. "Well?" His head tilts slightly to the side, your eyes immediately falling to the skin of his neck as your mouth goes dry. "James," you mutter with as much self-restraint you can muster, your eyes meeting his slightly bloodshot ones again. "I'll kiss you when you're not about to sneeze in my face." 

That effectively breaks the tension, and his face scrunches up in something between indignation and disbelief. "I'm not about to sneeze in your f-" He is interrupted by a sneeze. You give him a cocky look, simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the change your conversation has taken. "Angel, it's not my fault, you set it off! You said the 'S' word." He calls accusingly, following your smug form to the Hospital Wing. He isn't much disapproving of it later, though, when you pull him in an empty hallway after the matron fixes him up, letting you kiss him to your (and his) heart's content.

likes and reblogs appreciated! :)

[spicy30]

Echoes of a Stolen Fate 2/2

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targ!Reader

cw: Blood, Bastardry stigma, infidelity, classism, regionalism (regional bias), childbirth

Rating: 16+

tags: AFAB reader, no use of Y/N, angst/no comfort, the reader has anger issues, reader is depressed reader takes issues against bastards, reader does not like the north, reader acts like a princess (discriminates against those who are not like her (gets it from her mom tbh, have you read about Rhaenyra?)), Reader has traditional Targaryen features (Hair and eyes, skin color nor body specified), Dino Dragon is named Acrocanthosaurus because I'm not original, Reader is assumed to be true-born due to traditional Targ features

(Not Proofread)

Bold text noted to be High Valyrian

First part: 1/2

Indulgence is based on this post. Inspo Dino Dragon is Acrocanthosaurus.

WC: 13.2K

You felt like you were withering as the weeks passed by here in the North, the same thing every day. You’d wake before your husband in the cold room, groom yourself until you were presentable, and then you would dress in simple clothes such is the Northern fashion, skip breakfast, and go to the cold Gods Wood to ‘pray’. Then you would begin your duties as Lady of Winterfell; planning meals, overseeing finance, delegating resources, planning events, preparing for the long winter cold that the Starks never seem to shut up about, planning the staff's daily doings, going to the Maester for your daily check in. They seemed eager for an heir for Cregan. Then and only then would you eat your one meal of the day, then get up once again.

You wrote daily to your brother and uncle for updates, and then you wrote letters to the alliances you secured through the possibility of marriage to you but as you are married now, they seemed to pull away. Those letters only served to infuriate you, so after a healthy dose of daily hitting the cold stone wall so no one would hear and toss their letters into the fire watching them burn, you would get ready to meet with whatever ladies you were set to entertain today.  

Then afterward, you made it a priority to go greet the commons of Winterfell, though you had to fight the urge to scowl when they smiled at you. Their ugly teeth greeting you, and commons touching you with their dirty hands. The only good thing about the North is the cold stifled the disgusting smell this place would surely have, but when commons got too close or spoke to you, you’d smell their rotten breath and their putrid scent. It was disgusting and every time you went out, you felt like running away, far away from here forever because Winterfell was oh so dull, gray, and cold.

Then after your daily nightmare of interacting with the commons of Winterfell, you’d go back home only to be badgered by the servants of Winterfell seeking guidance. Every day, every single damned day of your existence here in this cold desolate place called Winterfell felt like monotonous hell.

Then finally as the day comes to a close, you’d go to the dinning room only for your husband to bore you with his attempts at conversation. After your husband finishes eating, you’d both go to your shared chambers where you’d do your duty always having him finish fast never bothering to catch your own high then sitting still as you felt his seed sit inside you. 

You’d pretend to sleep until he slept, and then you would wake and sit on a nearby chair that was always cold, and stare at the map of Westeros. It was horribly dreadful as you wallowed in your own self-pity watching your allies dwindle.  

Truly a sad sight of you sitting there in a chair, bare as the day you were born with a sticky feeling between your legs looking at a map for hours never moving in this cold room. Then you’d stand up sometimes and just look at yourself in the mirror and at the nasty scar that was forming on your calf. Sometimes you’d stare so long that you’d hallucinate your face and body beginning to morph ever so slightly into the woman you wished you were. A woman with a crown on her head in the warmth of King’s Landing, a woman who was not wasted on simply being a lady of a cold household. 

Then you’d go to sleep for a couple of hours only to restart your pitiful day all over again. 

It was unbearable some days. On those days you considered simply flying off to the warmth of Essos and never turning back or just flying to King’s Landing and burning everyone in the Red Keep. Though sometimes you’d think you would just be content with burning anything or anyone, the heat would feel nice. 

So on those days, you’d take Acrocanthosaurus and fly him high, high above the clouds, and have him breathe fire and destroy the clouds around you as you relished the feeling of fire around you. You’d pretend he was burning the grimy eyes on you, the Northern accents that grated your ears, Aegon, Aemond, Alicent, Otto, and sometimes you even thought about burning your Grandsire. 

However, as the weeks went by, those days that used to be rare were now becoming all too common. Days where you felt your blood boiling at the desperation of your situation were becoming too frequent for your own good. 

So today as you made your way out to God’s Wood for your daily ‘prayers’ for the first time since you got here, you knelt. You knelt in the God’s Wood but in front of the tree, but in front of Acrocanthosaurus, and simply held him. You felt the warmness contrast the cold of your damp clothes and slowly you began to cry, anger that made you cry, uselessness that made you cry, an emptiness that made you cry.

“There is something wrong with me.” You whispered in a broken voice as tears fell from your eyes onto his snout. “I hate feeling like this, so pathetic. I wonder if anyone else can see me for how I truly am. I had everything, the gods were generous with me but now they don’t even answer my prayers, no matter how high I fly to see them.” Your body shivered from the cold that seeped into your bones. “I don't know why. What did I do? What is wrong with me?” You looked into the eyes of Acrocanthosaurus. “Please just tell me so maybe I can be better. I don't want to end up like my mother, fighting for people to simply accept me. I wanna be loved, I want to be supported like Aegon is, just for simply being born. I simply want to be.” 

…

It had been weeks into your marriage, Cregan had taken you several times, left his seed in you several times, left marks on your body several times, had touched you where no one else ever would, in all except one place, a place that he yearned for more than anything. 

Your lips.

Every time you’d avoid him, you’d never deny him any other part of your body, just your lips and it left him frustrated. What kind of wife does not kiss her own husband? It was all he needed from you. The very thing you denied him. Perhaps you did not feel comfortable with him? So he tried to give you gifts, they were always received and worn, but never once did you kiss him in thanks, he praised you for your work in Winterfell but never once did that ever result in a kiss, he talked to you during your shared dinner or more so his dinner as you never ate, and even then it did not make you any warmer when he took you once more. 

You were simply impossible. Never did you go out of your way to talk to him, touch him, hug him, kiss him. You were hard to talk to, only simply giving him those dismissive hums he was growing to hate. Despite the bed you both shared meant for sleep, he never really did sleep next to you. You gave him nothing on your shared nights or at any time, the only thing he could feel from you was a heartbeat.

Yet despite you only ever completing your obligation to him he never did find himself ever wanting to stop, because the only time he ever really got you to open up was when he got you undressed, and even if it wasn’t the way he wanted you to open up for him, this was still good enough, for now. 

Weeks passed and Cregan watched you, he watched you when he felt the bed shift from when you got up like you did every night after he’s marked you. He watched you sit in the same chair every night and simply stare at a map. He watched you become so lost that you never noticed that he watched you, every breath you took, every time you blinked, every time you shivered from the cold, he’d watch the tips of your breast harden then after a while soften only to harden again when you shivered as if suddenly noticing the cold again. He’d watch from the bed as you sometimes stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror, never noticing him in the same reflection as your mind drifted elsewhere. He watched you as you crawled into bed and slept beside him though the sleep never rejuvenated you. 

Cregan would always wake up as you left your shared bedroom. Cregan would always watch you, your practiced smiles to everyone, or the way you rode your dragon away from here. He always watched you, never understanding why you would not let him in. That night, that first night you told him: 

“I’d rather not share something so intimate.”

Those words haunted him, day and night. Never once did you let yourself be intimate with your husband and Cregan was starting to break. 

He didn’t know what they meant, there was no way you would have known about the kiss. There were only three witnesses and two of those witnesses had good reason to not tell and the third was a dragon who could not speak. You vexed him, vexed him, and frustrated him. You elicited reactions from him no one else has. Soon you were the only thing on his mind and it began to drive him insane. 

So he watched you and watched because it felt like that was the only way he could ever be intimate with you. Not when you were bare and your bodies connected but when he watched you.

He knows you don’t love him, not yet at least. He hopes you will, because it feels like he already loves you. You’re all he thinks about, but he can never tell you, not as you are now. It almost feels like a joke to him. One big joke, a joke he tries to gain insight into by watching you. 

Today when Cregan wakes and he looks over, he sees you, still in the bed beside him. You hadn’t woken up yet. Today he’d watch some more trying to understand. He watched your eyelashes flutter sometimes, he watched your hair become disheveled from moving, he watched your chest rise, and he watched every time you moved.

He reached over and brushed your hair back. It is shined with the light of the fire and your skin reflects the light. He was entranced watching you sleep. His hands traveled along the side of your face stopping on your lips. He touched them, and they were so soft and smooth. He pinched them softly and watched them turn a slight red and only then could he imagine how red your lips would be if you allowed him to kiss you. 

He moved closer to you, to observe every part of your face. He simply lay beside you, his hands never moving from your lips. 

Then you moved and he shut his eyes like a boy who was caught staying up late. He kept them shut pretending he was sleeping. He felt you stir more and finally he felt you take his hand in yours. He relished the feeling of your warm hands against his, though it was only to move his hand away from your lips. The he felt you stand and leave the bed. 

He opened his eyes slightly watching you get ready for the day before you walked out. Cregan quickly got up and put on simple clothes before following after you as quietly and quickly as he could. He watched you walk slowly through the walls of Winterfell as your calf held you back. He watched and followed you to God's Wood. He watched from behind a tree as you knelt, but not in front of the Weir Wood tree, but in front of your dragon, which he has told you to keep out of these woods. 

He watched you as you seemed to pray to your dragon, as you hugged him. He watched you shiver from the cold but felt the warmth your dragon exhaled. It seemed like you were saying something, but he couldn’t hear.  

He watched as your dragon then narrowed its eyes on him and for a second time stopped. He watched you turn your head slightly in his direction. He watched as you ignored him and instead grabbed onto your Dragon. 

He didn’t know why that rubbed him the wrong way.

You ignored him like you didn’t care that he was there. 

You didn’t care.

Cregan watched you fly away and you didn’t care that he was there. 

When you came back from wherever it is you went today, he didn’t greet you like he usually did. 

You didn’t care.

He didn’t talk to you during dinner.

You didn’t care.

He didn’t take you that night.

You didn’t care

For days he did this hoping you would do something, pleading that you would show him something, anything!

You didn’t care for it or his act. 

He did his best to ignore you, though he didn’t last long. How could he? When the Maester had just given him such great news. You were with a child, his first child with you. Something only you could give him, so how could he ignore his wife?  Damn the Wall and damn the South, all he could think of was his wife. 

However, the way things are would not do for him and the future child born between the both of you. There had to be something he could do to remedy this. He will be the first to admit that the game he is playing with you is childish. But he can’t help himself. He feels like a spoiled child crying and whining to get what he wants. He hasn’t acted like this since he was a child, yet this is what you have reduced him to, a little boy playing silly games vying for your attention hoping you’ll notice him and notice how desperate he is for you. 

Another gift perhaps? Surely it would be better than starving himself of you. 

You seemed to express a want for Arra Norrey to raise your children. He’d rather her far away from you, but if it is what you wanted, who was he to deny you that? 

Pulling out fresh ink and the seal of the Starks, he wrote to House Norrey. 

…

As you cried on Acrocanthosaurus, he breathed out steam that warmed your body. You looked into his eyes and saw them looking behind you. You looked over your shoulder and saw no one, however, it was clear someone was there watching you. Acrocanthosaurus reached his claw to you and you climbed onto it as he lifted you to your saddle. Not bothering to look deeper into who was hiding, you set off into the skies, hoping that maybe if you pray up there, the gods will hear you this time. Perhaps you’ll even fly to Old Valyria if you become desperate enough. 

Acrocanthosaurus flew and flew higher and you laid back on him. 

You sighed looking up. “It doesn't change anything. Nothing changes no matter how high I fly.  The Gods will never hear my prayers. I've lost everything. No matter how many times I pray, no matter how many times I plead, it's never coming back, Acrocanthosaurus.” 

You lift your hands to look at the simple clothes you have on. “And I’ve done this for what? For a man whose alliance was already secured? For a man who so clearly does not want me!? For a man who only seems to see me as what the world does already, a womb and nothing more?”

You crawled forward onto Acrocanthosaurus's neck as you held on tight. “Can't I just be loved? Be loved by the realm as they seem to love Aegon? Be loved…” Your voice lowered as you held onto Acrocanthosaurus trying to crawl forward as he made noises.

 “By my husband? Maybe if I had been born of love…” You trail as you finally reach the head of Acrocanthosaurus looking into his green eyes watching you as he flies. 

“You love me, don’t you Acrocanthosaurus?” You heard him make a deep rumble that you felt vibrate your body before he swung you high in the air. You screamed as he caught you with his snout. You sat as he continued flying and you hugged his face, holding on breathing fast.

“I hope that was a yes.” You breathed out as you held onto him. “Yeah, just you and me…forever. Maybe we could stay alone, just me and you, together.” You rested your head against his. 

You felt the rumble of his roar in the depths of your bones. “Yes, and while we're at it, burn the whore’s house down.”

…

After hours of riding and deciding against the idea of burning down the Norrey House, you flew back to Winterfell to a strangely quiet husband. He did not greet you, nor did he talk to you during his dinner, or even take you that night. Though it was all the same to you, one less person to talk to. 

It was all the same to you until it wasn’t. When you saw the coat of arms that held six green thistles crossing through the gates of Winterfell. For days Cregan hadn’t spoken to you, nor marked you. It wasn’t you missed it but he was still your husband, and the nerve of him to invite her to Winterfell. For what!?

Walking as fast as you could with an occasional limp and burst through his door interrupting his study. You saw him lift a brow and you swore you could see the smallest smile. 

“My lord.” You gritted out. “Why was I not told of the Norreys visit?”  He sat in all his glory, the gray stone walls surrounding him, his fur pelt, and the chair of Winterfell. He sat there with what you swore was a smirk and it aggravated you. 

“It’s not a visit.” He spoke as if it was the most normal thing. There were very few things that got under your skin and even fewer people who managed to bring out a resentful side of you. Yet this man here did it all without even trying!? 

Cregan Stark; the bane of your existence.

You spoke trying your best to hide your annoyance. “No? Then why are they here?”

“It is only one person. Arra Norrey.” He responded cooly watching you with eyes that seemed to drink up every expression you gave. 

“Why?” You walked forward looking at him leaning forward with your hands on the desk. 

“On the day of our wedding, you had told Arra Norrey you wished for her help to raise our children.” As Cregan spoke you felt your patience thinning.

“And?” Of course, the Northern brute did not register sarcasm, damn all these Northers who you swear will turn your white hair gray. 

You watched as Creagn stood and walked behind you taking you in his arms as you felt him inhale your scent. You watched as his hands intertwined with yours and finally had them settled on your belly. 

“Now that you are carrying our first child, heir to Winterfell, I figured you’d want her here.” As you listened to Cregan speak you felt your heart drop. Suddenly the feeling of his hands rubbing your stomach felt confining. The heir of Winterfell he called it. You felt as if he had just stabbed you through the heart. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. It hurt to know that you were his excuse for bringing back his whore to Winterfell, and while you labored to grow this child, his heir as he called it. Cregan would be off fathering bastards, like his father did.

You knew the men of the realm did not see value in women, but it hurt a little more to know you had married one of them. A tie to your name and to your blood. 

“The Maester told me the news a couple of days ago-” You stepped out of his grasp, cutting him off. You took a second to recompose yourself. You turned and faced Cregan and smiled. 

“I was not aware of the news. Such grand news. However, I must make haste to prepare for Lady Norrey’s arrival.” You spoke in the calmest tone you could muster before dismissing yourself leaving Cregan in the dull, gray, cold room. 

…

The last thing Cregan wanted to do was to greet Arra. After what had happened between them, he never wanted to see her again. Guilt always pooled in him when he saw her. The day you became his wife, the day he was unable to take his eyes from you was the day he decided that what happened under the Weirwood tree was the biggest mistake of his life. 

Arra did not make him yearn. Not even after he kissed her, he did not yearn for more. He did not spend that night thinking of her. The night and days after his wedding only consisted of thoughts of you. In fact, in these past few weeks, the only time she has ever crossed her mind was when he thought that perhaps he should confess his mistake to you. Arra Norrey was only ever was brought up in his mind as a negative thought and in correlation to you. 

Arra Norrey in Cregan’s mind, never stood alone. 

Despite this, he put on his best face and gave a greeting that reflected his position, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. 

He watched as the Norrey guards held out their hands for Lady Arra. She walked with a big smile on her face as she greeted him first then you. As they welcomed her inside, she would not stop singing praises for Winterfell and how wonderful it felt to be invited back, this time as a lady-in-waiting for the Lady of Winterfell. Cregan watched for a reaction, a sign to assure him that he had done well. 

You gave him none. In fact, you seemed the opposite of pleased, you had recently gone on dragon back and had only come back an hour ago. Perhaps….the feast thrown in your honor would please you. 

Cregan felt nervous at your lack of enthusiasm. You were the one who wanted Lady Arra, were you not?

He would try once more to please the soon-to-be mother of his child in the coming days, try and have you lighten up as he prepared to share the news of your pregnancy.  

However, over those days, every time he stepped into your presence for something even as minuscule as holding his hand to your stomach, Arra would be there to ruin the moment. Never could he get you alone, and even then when he seemed to enter the same room as you, he felt Arra’s eyes on him. He had been the one to send the letter requesting her presence, but he did not invite the looks she would give him. Longing looks. Looks he did his best to ignore. Worst yet, you seemed to broil in anger every day since Arra’s arrival. 

Every day you would disappear for hours at a time leaving Arra with his half-sister Sara and consequently in his presence for all those hours you were gone for. Cregan found himself frustrated with your behavior and frustrated because he did not want to face Arra and what he had done on the day of your marriage. 

You were the one who held his hand so eagerly when speaking to Lady Arra about your shared children. How excited you had seemed, but now you detest being around him. Before, at the very least, you would give him dismissive hums, but now all you responded with was your eyes and the movement of your eyebrows, the rest of your face always set in a permanent scowl. 

He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He is trying, he really is. Trying to meet your every need and every want any lady could ever want. 

Sighing he pushed back his hair from his face as the background noise finally set. You had left once more early in the morning despite the Maesters advising you not to, leaving him alone with Sara and Lady Arra as they spoke of the upcoming banquet today in your honor.

Cregan figured that if he could not please you or Lady Arra, then perhaps Sara could, her talkative nature made it easy to become friends with. 

“Lady Arra, could you give my sister and I a moment alone?” Cregan spoke without looking up. He often tried to not look towards Lady Arra. 

He heard her obliged and stepped out. 

“Brother?” Sara spoke as she sat in front of him. He lifted his head showing his defeated expression.

“What do you know of my lady wife Sara?” He asked her with a sigh.

“Not much brother, on the day before your wedding I attempted to talk to her, though she seemed in a sour mood only giving me a smile before she left,” Sara spoke as she observed her brother. You had given him such a hard time, though Sara had seen your duties, you had even gone so far as to take what she usually did, giving her the excuse that you did more as Crown Princess and the work in Winterfell paled in comparison.

“Yes, she and her brother, Prince Jacaerys, were at odds that night.” Cregan rationalized.  

“In her days in Winterfell, I have not gotten the chance to speak to her much other than the greeting which she returned. The lady has such structured days that it is hard to find a time when she is not working on something. I believe the only time she spares is for you, Cregan.” Sara offered with a smile. 

Cregan nodded. “She does not seem fond of Lady Arra, though she had-” 

“I would not be fond of the company of Lady Arra if I was your lady wife either,” Sara said, cutting Cregan off. 

Cregan looked at her eyes slightly wide as his palms felt clammy. “Why?”

“Well if my lord husband invited the woman who he was supposed to marry and his childhood friend to be my lady-in-waiting, I would not be pleased either. Why would you even want to invite Lady Arra back to court?” Sara looked at her brother incredulously. 

Cregan felt a little sigh of relief, glad his sister did not know of what happened between Lady Arra and him under the Weirwood tree. However, this information should be unknown to you, how could you have come to find out? “Lady Arra and I were not promised to each other, my wife should not know of that.”

“Well, brother I may have…told her?” Sara mumbled as she watched her brother give her a bewildered look. 

“I did not expect you to invite her back to Winterfell!” Sara defended herself against the incredulous looks her brother threw at her. 

Sighing, Cregan rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Today, during the banquet, you will keep my wife company and try to remedy this…misunderstanding. She needs a friend here that is not someone who was supposed to marry me.”

“Are you asking me to put in a good word you brother?” Sara gave a small teasing smile at her brooding brother. 

“No. I am asking you to fix this. My lady wife seems to always be upset these days.” Cregan spoke as he looked towards the window. Your dragon seemed to return, going back to land in God's wood. 

“How do you know? She seems as she always is. She is silent and does her duties. She still goes to greet the commons of Winterfell. She is doing well brother.” Sara reaches over for her brother’s hand as she looks outside to see your dragon give a loud roar before disappearing out of sight as it lands. 

“She only ever goes riding when she is particularly upset or displeased with something,” Cregan says, giving his sister’s hand a final squeeze before retracting her own hand. “She is pregnant now, Sara. The Maester says such harsh movement such as dragon riding is not good. Sara, she is angry all the time, I can see it every day on her face.”

“She is the blood of the dragon Cregan, of course, her blood runs hot and consequently; her temper. However, she is not in her home, her home is in the South, you know as well as I do, that the North is not welcoming to outsiders, especially Southerners from King’s Landing. It is only natural that she should find comfort in her beast. ” Sara reasons Cregan. 

She watched Cregan give an exasperated sigh. “Fret not brother, tonight, I will be her friend and give a good word.” Sara smiled before excusing herself. 

Cregan watched his sister leave before standing up himself to go to the God’s Wood. Ever since the wedding Cregan has avoided going due to the dragon that now resided there, and the guilt that would build up in him as he looked at the Weir Wood tree. However, if he decided that if he truly wanted this to work, he would not be bullied out of the place his ancestors had been going to for solace by a dragon or guilt. 

Getting closer to God's wood, it felt warmer than the rest of Winterfell. He felt nervous, yes he is Cregan Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, but that does change that a dragon is a dragon. Dragons do not care for names or titles, only for blood, Valyrian blood, blood he does not possess. Despite this, he pushed forward into the new warmth of the woods. As he walked deeper he saw the growth of flowers he had never seen before. The more small life grew, the closer he went to the Weir Wood tree. Eventually, it was so warm he took off his coat and sat down on the bench near the Weir Wood.

This had been the place where he kissed a woman who was not his wife, in front of the ever-gazing eyes of the Weir Wood tree. Looking into the black water, which was so black it could work as a mirror. While looking into the black mirror he saw a figure moving across the pond. 

A large head reflected and Cregan simply looked at the creature through the water. The head was long, low, and narrow. Its eyes are big and green with black slits for pupils. The outside of its upper jaw up to its nasal bone looked rough and textured. Long, low ridges arose from the nasal bones, running along each side of the snout from the nostril back to the eye, where they continued onto the tear duct bone. As Cregan kept looking at the large dragon through the reflection, the dragon looked towards him. It did not bear its teeth but yet Cregan counted nineteen curved serrated teeth protruding from its mouth.  

From the pond Cregan watched it stand taller showing off its stocky body covered in scaly skin. It stretched itself seemingly intent on going towards Cregan now baring its teeth. Cregan looked up from the pond standing from the bench ready to back away if need be. Though despite the fact he had just spent the last couple of minutes looking at the dragon he never noticed you standing next to your dragon. 

It wasn’t until you stood in front of it stopping it from crossing the pond. He watched as your dragon nuzzled against you, more specifically towards your belly, blowing smoke, and even from the distance Cregan could feel the heat. It was hot, scalding hot, and he began to sweat. 

He began to worry that perhaps it may be too much heat for the child you carried, however, before he could say anything he was blinded by the large puff of smoke your dragon exhaled. His eyes burned from the heat and it wasn’t long before his skin felt like it was boiling. 

It hurt and he could hardly breathe, he panicked, but not for himself, but for you. What about you? What about the child in your womb? He found himself trying to yell your name, coughing with each breath he took. He yelled, coughed, and tried to find his way to you through the smoke. As he coughed he nearly fell tripping over a protruding root from the ground. Though suddenly with a large gust of wind, the smoke fell away leaving Cregan alone. You were nowhere in sight and your dragon was lying down ignoring his existence. 

Cregan stood up straight and wiped the tears away that had gathered from the smoke. 

“Cregan!” He heard a voice shout. Turning he saw Arra walking towards him. She was the last person he wanted to be seen with. Not with your dragon now opening an eye and looking at them both, where weeks ago he had committed an act that should never be repeated. He doubted whatever you had told your dragon would keep him at bay should Arra attempt to bring up what happened that day, or if she did anything he reckoned. 

“Lady Arra.” He spoke in a monotone voice. 

“Are you alright? I saw all the smoke and your shouts for the Lady, I rushed over as fast as I could.” Arra spoke as she came closer to him, seemingly trying to wipe soot away from his face. 

Cregan backed away, keeping a distance from her. He watched her face become confused before quickly giving a respectful smile. 

“I am alright, I was simply looking for my lady wife, have you seen her?” 

Arra nodded and stated that she had only recently entered your chambers to prepare for a bath. Content with the answer he left, hoping Arra wouldn’t be foolish enough to remain in the God’s Wood alone with your dragon. 

…

“The dragon’s blood runs hot maester. I assure you I will not burn if you increase the temperature.” You spoke feeling the water which was lukewarm. 

The Maester spoke to you trying to reason.“You may not burn my lady, but the child you bear has Northern blood-” 

That title, ‘my lady,’ it irked you. Something that came along with this cold place, something you were not used to when all your life you had been called ‘your grace,’ it was your proper title and to have someone speak to you in such a manner, it irritated you. You were still a Targaryen, you did not take the Stark name, a noble woman never take her husband’s name. Especially not a royal one who was set to inherit the Iron Throne. You were born a Targaryen and would remain one for the rest of your life. Your mother was born a Targaryen and even when she married your father, Laenor Velaryon, she remained a Targaryen, when she bore you, you took your mother’s name, Targaryen. The child you had growing inside you would also bear the name Targaryen, by right, your child was a Targaryen.

“The dragon’s blood runs strong within me, and it will run strong in my child. I am a cold maester, I have been cold for weeks. Can I not have one hot bath?” You countered cutting him off. Winterfell rarely saw the sun and you could not enjoy the warm rays of sunlight you had in King’s Landing or on Dragon Stone. The only warmth you ever found was near Acrocanthosaurus or hot baths.

“When you are not with child my lady, you may have the water as scalding as you’d like, however, until then, this is the warmest I will allow.” You felt the slightest twitch at the title as the Maester finished. He seemed determined to not let you have your bath. So finally, desperate for some alone time, you agreed and dismissed everyone.

As you disrobed and slipped into the bath, you relished in the slight warmth it provided. It felt good to rid yourself of the scent of dragon. You loved Acrocanthosaurus, you really did, but it didn’t change the fact that dragons didn’t exactly smell the best. 

You cannot say how long you remained in the bath as every part of your being soaked in the scented oils of the bath, your ears plugged from having half of your head submerged, your hair stuck to your forehead and your hand subconsciously resting atop your stomach which now protrude outward ever so slightly. While you were born and given the name Targaryen, as was agreed upon when your mother married your father, it seemed that your father still resonated with you heavily. You always love baths and the weight the water takes from you. Weightless, a feeling that only the seas and skies can give you.

However, the peace broke when you heard someone enter. Giving out a deep sigh of annoyance you rose from the water and you felt warm water fall out from your ears as you watched Lady Arra lay out the dress on the bed. It was the dull colors of the North. You had just about enough of all these dull colors. You wanted vibrant colors for your house, bright crimson colors or deep azures from House Velaryon. 

“Take it away.” You spoke as you sat properly in the bath and drops of water cascaded over you. 

“My lady, this is traditional wear of the North and it is in honor of the next heir of Winterfell…” Lady Arra spoke as you pulled up the dress trying to show off the minimalistic design. As you listened to her, you lifted a brow at the title. The assumption of your child being heir of Winterfell and not heir of the Iron Throne grated you. 

“I don’t care. Take it away and bring me….” You told her to roll your eyes again. “One of my Southern dresses, a red one, with dragons embroidered.” Your child may be fathered by a Northern brute, but you were Southern through and through, and so would your child. 

“Such tight corsets would not be good for the babe you carry, my lady. Southern dresses are also not good for the North, you will run cold.” Arra told you as she walked closer with a robe to help you get out of the bath.

There was that title again, ‘My Lady.’ A title that insulted you. You felt your annoyance grow every time Arra spoke to you.

“I am the dragon’s daughter, my blood runs hot. Now fetch me the dress.” You spoke with an absolute tone. They would not claim your child as a Stark, you will show your alliance with your name. Your child would be Targaryen, as were you. The throne will always belong to a Targaryen.

“My lady I don’t think that would-” 

“Nobody cares…what you think.” You cut Arra off as you stood in all your glory, steam radiating off of your body as you stepped out of the tub and standing in front of her, your eyes met her plain ones You took the robe from her and put it on before looking her up and down unamused. “So bring me my red dress with dragons embroidered.” You spoke in a slow tone as if trying to dumb it down for her. 

You watched her look down before nodding and excusing herself.

…

As you walked into the great hall of Winterfell, you felt all their eyes on you. Your deep crimson dress contrasted the dull grays and blacks of everyone else and your elaborate Southern hair-do stood out from the boring plain ones that Northern ladies wore. 

You were made for the limelight, born for others to look to, born to rule. That was your purpose, a heavy one to carry. 

As you sat next to Cregan, you nodded allowing the feast to begin. From the table you watched everyone scarf down the food and you felt your eyebrows crease in disgust. You felt sick when your own food was placed in front of you. The white meat was glistening under the candlelight and the smell wafting in your nose nearly made you lose your lunch. As you pushed the plate away you drank water, content with only that. You rested back drinking while looking upon the people of the North. The Northerners who thought you were bearing their heir. This was your child, your heir, not theirs, not anyone but yours. 

Just like that, you found yourself standing with your chalice lifted in the air giving a forced smile. You waited until it was silent and everyone watched you, the candlelight casting a dark shadow over you. 

“I’d like to make a toast, as the newest Lady of Winterfell and the alliance this marriage between my lord husband, Cregan Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, and I, your Crown Princess.” You smiled as you reminded them of your position. “We hold this banquet in honor of the babe Cregan has gifted me.” You looked down at Cregan with the softest smile you could conjure, though it was an empty one. He looked up to you and as he nodded towards you then faced his men, and you swore he sat up a little straighter. 

“Who will be born Targaryen, as I was, and will be my heir to the Iron Throne as I am to my Mother, your Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen.” You felt your smile widen into a grin as you saw the people in the hall make the realization that you had every intention of taking the Throne, making you first and foremost, their Crown Princess and then Lady of Winterfell.

“So I toast to the future heir of the Iron Throne.” The cheer they gave was loud as they drank. You gave a small sip. “And should the Gods be generous, Cregan will give me more children who will then bear the name Stark.” With a promise that the Stark name would live, the cheers increased in volume, though the only person you looked at was Arra Norrey who had a neutral face on, which amongst happy flushed places, looked misplaced. She met your eyes and you greeted her with a smug smile. 

Cregan was your husband, for better or worse.

Finally sitting down keeping your eyes on her, to drive your point further, once more, as you did on your wedding day, you took Cregan’s hand and held it near your belly, which now carried your heir.  

As you sat happy, you felt the hand that held Cregan’s being lifted. You looked and watched as Cregan brought your hand to his lips and gave a long soft kiss. You looked deep into his eyes and for the first time, you realized just how gray they were. Never had you really looked towards Cregan as you did now. The forming creases on his face from stress, his long brown hair, but he was handsome, more so now as he looked up at you mumbling a “your grace” acknowledging you as his Crown Princess. 

For the first time since you had met Cregan, since you had married him, since you had been with him, a genuine smile crept on your face unwillingly, forgetting the sin he committed against you. He looked like perfection at that moment. Such gray eyes you had never seen, a sharp nose, a nicely sculpted face. If you had a son, you desperately hoped he inherited his father’s handsome and manly looks rather than the beauty Targeryens were known for. 

“More children, may the gods bless us.” He murmured against your hand which was still resting on his lips. You felt a pulse of desire hearing his Northern accent. Never had you wanted to hear the damned Northern accent more than right now. You could imagine it, hearing his rough voice and pronunciation whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he gives you another babe. The mere thought made you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You felt the warmth of his soft lips leave your hand and you felt almost deprived of his touch. His lips which you had forbidden yourself from touching. 

Why? 

At this very moment while looking at your husband who had done so much for you, giving you expensive gifts, accommodating your every want, giving you the warmest room in Winterfell, excused your leaves with Acrocanthosaurus, putting up with your attitude all without complaining, and giving you an heir for yourself. You honestly couldn’t remember why you would deny yourself such a man. 

You looked into his pretty gray eyes and then down at his perfect lips. You felt yourself lean closer into him seeking him out. For the first time in weeks, you sought him out. As you came closer and felt his breath, which smelt of sweet wine, you grew eager to taste him. Taste the flavor of the wine which was surely left on his tongue. 

Cregan reached his hand to cradle your face and you leaned into the rough calloused hand. Despite the fact that he is a Northerner who came from the cold North, you swore his hand was the warmest one you’ve ever felt. A warm hand to comfort you in the never-ending cold Winterfell seemed to produce. 

Just as your lips touched his own you turned away as someone called for your attention. As you looked up, you saw none other than your lady-in-waiting. 

Lady Arra Norrey. 

Suddenly the cold reality came crashing down on you. Your refusal to share something that should only be yours reminded you of why you treated Cregan Stark, the way you treated him. What he represented to you. The loss of your home, your throne, your place next to your mother as you both fought for your birthright. As you drew your face away from him and his warm hand you looked up towards the woman who stole what was yours. 

Your eyebrow quipped up in annoyance as you looked at her. To your side, you heard Cregan give a sigh, it appeared you weren’t the only one who didn’t want her presence anymore. You didn’t want to see her ever. She too was a constant reminder, a reminder that she ruined something for you. 

As you tuned out her little ramblings you simply looked at her to see what she had that you did not. She wasn’t prettier than you, you spoke better than her, were probably better educated than her, you had a dragon and she didn’t. Why would Cregan want her? Suddenly you felt very annoyed by her. Annoyed by her presence as you had been these last couple of days. Annoyed that she caused you to doubt yourself. Annoyed that she would forever remain a stain on your marriage. 

“My Lady, I am grateful for you and I am also thankful to Lord Stark for extending the invitation.” Arra finished as she bowed and excused herself.

My Lady. She had called you my lady again. Insult after insult she gave you. You wanted her gone. 

Permanently. 

You kept your eyes as she went to converse with other Northern ladies. Ladies you never bothered to entertain. You watched her for as long as you sat, it wasn’t until the bastard of Winterfell tore your eyes away by tapping you. You looked at her with a perplexed look. The nerve of her to touch you. You watched as she smiled at you and as she was to open her mouth to speak, you stood up and excused yourself with a flat smile before she could get a word out. You could care less about what a bastard had to say.

As you made your way through the crowd to the corner where Lady Arra and her friends talked and laughed. You approached behind Lady Arra and the other ladies around her quickly fell silent. 

“Lady Arra.” You spoke and you watched her give a small yelp. 

“Oh, my lady, I was simply speaking to them about how wonderful it is to be your lady-in-waiting.” She gave a smile. 

Once again she insulted you and you felt your eye give a small twitch. You watched her take a breath and open her mouth again to speak. Before she could you raised your hand telling her to stop. She stayed silent. Then you looked behind her at the ladies whose names you didn’t bother with giving them a lifted brow. No doubt you’d have to spell it out to them to leave you. Luckily at least one of them had common sense and left. The rest followed like sheep. 

You looked Arra up and down with disgust and annoyance present on your face.

“That day in the GodsWood. You did something you weren’t supposed to do.” You spoke with a blank smile. You watched as Arra’s face fell. “Keep your face girl.” You were reprimanded. “That day you angered the dragon, my dragon. Who nearly burned Cregan alive, because of you. What do you think will happen when I’m not there to stop him? If he was willing to burn the Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell. Do you think he would think twice about burning an insignificant girl, from a minor useless house that annoys me?” 

You watched her look away from you and towards the ground before looking back up at you with pleading eyes. “My lady, I never meant to annoy anyone!”

“But you are.” You stressed anger boiling threatening to spill over and cause a scene here in the middle of a banquet. “You’re annoying me right now. Every breath you draw in my presence annoys me, everything you do within these walls annoys me, so here is what I want you to do. I want you to leave my presence. Leave Winterfell right now and go back to whatever part of the North you belong to where they use pinecones as money.” You gave her an annoyed smile struggling to keep your face neutral. 

“My lady, Lord Stark, Warden of the North has-” You cut her off having enough of being called a lady. “Your Crown Princess is telling you to leave Winterfell. Whether in a carriage or a casket, I will be merciful enough to let you have that choice.” You watched her face drop at your implication. “So…are you going to try and wake the dragon who has already decided to burn you alive for your insolence against me, or will you appeal to me? Who’s still mulling it over?” 

You smiled as she bowed, mumbling a small ‘your grace’ before leaving the banquet. A smirk grew on your face as you watched her leave. 

Content with your work and a small smile on your face you went to walk back to your seat next to Cregan and on your side, the bastard of Winterfell. Despite the clear insult, you were happy with your work today. 

“Your grace, you are the eye banquet!” A cheerful voice sang next to you and you felt your smile nearly falter. 

The bastard of Winterfell stood next to you with a wide smile. Sara Snow. The same Sara Snow who had thrown a small look towards your brother Jacaerys during your wedding. As if a bastard would ever be worthy of your brother. Your brother was recognized by the crown and was named heir to Driftmark. This bastard had nothing to her name and only lived at the mercy of her brother. 

“Well, I am a Targaryen.” You give a smile as you look at her from your peripheral not bothering to even face her as you speak. 

“I am happy that you have taken well to your duties here in Winterfell. Even more so now that you have taken mine.” She spoke with such enthusiasm it hurt to listen. However, when she hugged your arm you looked down in shock that she would dare touch you. However, you kept face and kept that same practiced smile on your face. 

“I know my brother can be difficult at times and he can make such rash actions, but he means well. He has gone through so much in his youth. You must understand. However, you should not fret sister-” The moment she said sister you turned her out. You were in utter disbelief that someone who was not your family would touch you so casually.

 A bastard nonetheless. 

A bastard who was making excuses for her brother. She was an annoyance to you. A shame and right after you had just rid yourself of one. 

Breathing in you smiled towards her facing your body slightly more to her. “Who are you?” You asked with an unfaltering smile. 

“I’m sorry for your grace?” Sara looked towards you with furrowed brows and a smile on her face.

“Who are you Cregan?” You resisted rolling your eyes at her. You stood in front of her to block her face from Cregan who you could feel staring towards you.

“His sister,” Sara spoke in low tones as her grip around your arm lessened.

“Half-sister no? You have a different mother, yes?” You corrected her. She needed to learn her place. A bastard had no place talking to you or even a seat at the main table.

“Yes,” Sara spoke in even lower tones as she stared down in shame, feeling your burning eyes and unforgiving smile on her.

“Did the late Lord Stark remarry after Cregan’s mother?” You feigned confusion as tilted your head to the side slightly.

“No…” This she whispered out as you felt her hands start shaking a bit. 

“So that makes you what?” You lowered your face to her level as you leaned in with a mocking smile and fraudulent innocence. 

“A…” She couldn’t even say it as you saw tears on her waterline. It pleased you to know that you were the one to properly educate her on the place of bastards in society. 

“Bastard.” You finished for her as you lifted your hand which she had cupped in both of hers. “Even a common true-born is higher than a bastard.” You kept your smile as you peeled her hands off of yours. Finally, as her arms dropped and you forced her to look you in the eye your smile dropped revealing an unamused disgusted face.  “You ever presume to touch me or call me sister again, I will have Acrocanthosaurus burn your already average-looking face off. Nobody wants to marry a bastard, much less an ugly one.” 

You watched her give you an incredulous look. “And don’t ever make excuses for your brother in my presence again, do you hear me?” A futile effort on Cregan’s part to justify what he did on your wedding day. Your face twitched slightly as you watched her nod. Deciding you’ve had enough, you gave a flat smile and turned away from her, walking towards Cregan to inform him you were retiring for the night. 

…

Cregan watched you walk away. The Southern crimson dress contrasted the dark walls of the Great Hall and the clothes of everyone else. The Southern up-do of your hair, elaborate with jewels, twists, and braids. Gold dripped from your fingers and your neck. You were regal, and it was all he could bother to pay attention to, even if his sister came back with a solemn face and Arra had left after you’d finished talking to her. 

You had made a promise to him. More heirs, made by you and him. It was all his mind focused and soon his pants felt tight on him. He watched you until the doors of the Great Hall finally closed, your figure leaving his sight. He replayed the memory over and over in his head. His lips are on the back of your hand. Your eyes looking into his and a small smile on your lips. Lips that he was so close to kissing tonight. His hands are on your face tonight, when before, he was only able to touch you when you slept. The weight you pressed on his hand when you leaned into him. Everything about it was perfect. You were perfect, and tonight he was so close to tasting it. 

However, it is ruined when Lady Arra interrupts. A shame, though he supposes he could ease you tonight, as you seemed in a rather generous mood. To carefully undo the laces that held your Southern dress together, he’d hate to ruin such a dress that looked so pretty on you. The golds around your neck and on your fingers. It all served as a stark reminder of where you were from, and where he is from. Polar opposites. However, opposites attract, don’t they? 

The feeling in between his legs was beginning to hurt. So while he would normally ask his sister what was wrong with her, his mind was only clouded with one thing. 

You. 

So ignoring his sister, he stood and left the banquet, chasing after you.

When he entered you chambers he found you bent over placing your golden jewelry in a chest. 

He loved Southern dresses.

He raked the room finding it filled with your Southern ladies-in-waiting, and luckily for him, no Arra Norrey. 

With a look, the ladies bowed and left. He watched you look at him over your shoulder and he heard a sigh. 

Seems he would have to ease you just a little back into the woman he had in his hands hours before. Walking behind you he hugged you, praising himself. Northern dresses tended to be thick, better for insolation and keeping the women warm. These Southern dresses were thinner, let him feel you. Cregan would make sure to have more Southern dresses made for you. 

Inhaling your scent he pressed soft kisses against your exposed shoulder and like always you gave him better access to your neck. His hands traveled up your front side against the hard corset you wore until one of his hands cradled your face and the other lay on your stomach. He tilted your face towards him intent on finally claiming your lips after weeks of agony. 

As he went to kiss you, he felt your head tilt down and he instead made contact with your forehead. He sighed and closed his eyes in annoyance. 

“I am already with child Cregan.” You spoke in low tones as he rubbed your belly though he could only feel the hardness of the corset.  

He let your face go and buried his face in your neck. 

“Why do you deny me my wife?” He mumbled against you. He felt you shudder under him. Then he felt your finger massaging his scalp and you rested your head on his. 

“Why don’t you understand?” Cregan heard you mumble and he lifted his head looking towards you. You looked at him with unmoving eyes, a tired look on your face. 

“What is there to understand? Every night you deny me.” Cregan walked in front of you cupping your face with both hands looking down at you. “I have played your game, wife, what more can I give you?”  

“What game Cregan?” You lifted your hands holding onto his wrist, perplexed by his answer.

“I have tried to give you everything! I have respected your space, I have tried to understand you, and I have done more than what anyone else would do in my position!” His grip hardened on the sides of your face as he looked trying to decipher you. 

“It is truly a shame, I thought you were an honest man.” You pulled your face away from his hand as you pushed him away, narrowing your eyes at him. “You don’t think I know of your whore!?”

“What whore? I have been faithful to you, I have never needed anyone but you.” There was no way you would’ve known about the kiss, and in any case, you were not married to him yet. Though Cregan knew they were excuses. To kiss someone under a weird wood tree. Any Stark knows that only oaths are sworn under that tree.

“What happened that day? The day where you were nearly burned?” You finally asked him, your patience had run out. You watched him as he avoided your eyes and stayed silent. 

You scoffed and an unbelieving smile on your face. “You cannot even face yourself! I would’ve never thought it of you. You didn’t seem the lying kind, had it not been for my dragon, I would’ve been none the wiser.” You shouted at him while he stood in silence. You walked closer to him, your eyes narrowed in anger and betrayal. “And you never would’ve told me. You’d be happily prancing around with her, behind my back whilst I labor?” 

“Fine! Yes, I kissed her-” Cregan admitted, but never did he ever think of taking her as a mistress. 

“At the very place where you and I wed!” You cut him off. You didn’t know what to name this feeling. It was humiliation and something else. Something for which you did not know the words for, and it caused you to doubt yourself. What did she have that you did not? 

“It was a mistake, one I will spend the rest of my days atoning for it! I do not care for her!” Cregan spoke desperately trying to make you understand that Arra means nothing to him.

“And this!” You made a gesture towards yourself and him. “What a waste! This is such a waste!” Your hands covered your face as if trying to hide you from the ridiculousness of it all. “This marriage could’ve been so much more! If you had just- IF YOU HAD JUST THOUGHT WITH WHAT IS IN BETWEEN YOUR EARS AND NOT WHAT'S IN BETWEEN YOUR LEGS!” You screamed at him, it was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him. Raise your voice at anyone in Winterfell. 

“It was a mistake and I am sorry, truly!” He gripped onto you trying to keep you still as he reasoned with you. “You are the only woman in my life! Never once did I ever think of Arra once you and I married. Not another woman has held me as you have! I do not ask for your forgiveness, not yet, but I ask for understanding. I ask that you know that you are the only woman I will ever love, the only woman I will ever give children to. You are the mother of my children. You are all that matters to me!” He held your face and you tore away from him

“You have disrespected me, Cregan! Humiliated me in front of someone who doesn’t compare to me in any way. Yet you…” You breathed before looking at him with an accusatory look.

“You made me doubt my worth.” You spoke in low tones as if confirming it to yourself. 

“Do you know how much I was worth before I married you?” Your voice rose as you pointed to yourself. “I secured crucial alliances all with the possibility of my hand! Not even a promise, but just a possibility that my blood, the blood of the dragon, would flow through their family line!”

Cregan watched you and though you yelled at him, he felt pity for you. All you saw yourself, all your worth was from your name. From what you stood to inherit.  

“I am worth a thousand of your men and twice as many noblewomen because of my blood! There is not a power that can hope to stand against the House of the Dragon if it were united!” You yelled your chest oscillating as you attempted to catch your breath. Your hair was loose as golden trinkets fell on the floor. 

Looking at the gold that fell, you pulled out another piece and threw it at Cregan who had just been standing there, giving you this…a look you couldn’t describe but it irked you.“Do you see this gold? All of it means nothing when compared to me! Others wear gold to elevate themselves in the eyes of others. When I have gold, the gold wears me. I elevate anything I touch and you make me doubt myself! And for what? A lady of a lower house!? Nearly common!?” You yelled. That woman was nothing to you, yet he saw fit to degrade you to her level. It was unthinkable. You were heir to the Iron Throne, the blood of the Dragon. You would always be worth more than anyone else. 

You watched as Cregan stepped closer, and as he did you stepped back. For every step you took backward, he took one forward. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for this man. Someone who did not see your worth. Someone who had you questioning everything about yourself. Suddenly your back hit the warm rock. You had never noticed the walls being warm. They always seemed so cold to you. 

Cregan’s warm rough hands cradled your face once more. You tried to move but his grip was firm. He had never used this force with you, always letting you tear yourself away from him, but now, you were caught between a wall and him. 

“Let me go.” You hissed out looking away from him. 

“That is not what you are worth to me,” Cregan spoke in a low voice. 

Your eyes turned to look at him with confusion. “What?” It was a small whisper that came out a bit muffled with his hands on your face. 

“The blood of the dragon means nothing to me. I did not agree to marry you for the blood you carry.” He spoke as he watched your face morph into a puzzled look then into a defensive one. Your hands came to hold his own while they held your face. “You are to be the mother of my children. You simply are yourself to me. That in itself is worthy enough. Your blood was not the one that captured me when you first kissed me, even if it was not where I wanted you to kiss me.”

You felt disappointment pool in your stomach as he spoke. “I only matter because I will be the mother of your children!?” 

Cregan sighed as his thumb caressed your cheek. “You matter to me because you are my wife. If you were not, then you would matter to me because I made an oath to you. You matter to me not because of the worth you carry, but because you are mine and I am yours. There is no one else.” He rested his forehead against yours.

As you felt his skin against yours, you wanted to rip yourself away. Your entire life has been defined by one thing. Your blood. Blood of the Dragon, Blood of the Seas. It had been questioned, your worth had been brought into question. All your life had been spent telling you how important you were because you were your mother's heir. Always had to act the part, always had to look the part because your it was your blood’s worth, your worth was always called into question. For someone to tell you this, for the very man who had managed to make you feel as if you lost all your worth by marriage, for him to tell you this, it was like poison to you. No one can live with such poison. The hope that it gives you, the hope he gives you. It is a poison that anyone could become addicted to. If taken away, it would kill you. 

You shook your head refusing to accept the poison he was feeding you, but as much as you shook your head, you tilted your face upwards, closing your eyes, a yearning that should not be there. 

You felt his lips brush yours. A slight roughness to them, and before you could register, you found yourself pulling his hands away from your face desperate to kiss him.

However, he lifted his face upwards instead of kissing your forehead. 

A pang of humiliation hit you hard as you looked down. Even now he humiliated you, even as you gave in to him.

You felt his hands cradle your face again and made you look up. But your face was a shade of red that no matter how hard you tried to push down, it wouldn’t leave. This room that had once been so cold, now you felt as if it was burning your skin. 

“I swear to you, my Crown Princess. Your grace, now and forever, till the end of our days. I will always tell you the truth, truths about yourself, and truths about myself. Never will I give you a reason to doubt me. I will not let myself have you until you accept your worth to me.” Once more he leaned forward and you let yourself close your eyes not having the will to say anything back. 

You felt his soft lips against your cheek before he let you go. 

You stood there as he let you go. You kept your eyes closed as you felt the cold air hit your face when he walked behind you, his body no longer shielding you from the cold. 

You felt his hands on your hair, taking out the gold pieces and undoing your braids. Then you felt his hands undo the laces on your dress. As he took your arm pulling out from the sleeve of the dress, then doing the same to the other. Until your dress fell down leaving you bare, safe for your undergarments. 

Despite that, you felt awfully vulnerable as his hand went to take yours. You had been bare in front of him many times before, but this time, you felt like hiding away from him. Your hand went to cover your breasts as he sat down on the bed facing you. 

Cregan took your hand and pulled you to him. You fell onto his lap as he laid back. You hid yourself in him. He fixed himself on the bed bringing you with him as you stayed hiding within his chest. You both stayed like that. His hands wrapped around you holding close to him as his fingers traced symbols on your back, and you relished the safety of being able to hide away and the warmth he provided. In the same room where the cold had been unbearable, you now took cover from it using your husband.

…

You cried out shaking your head begging. “I can’t, I can’t! Make it stop! Please! Please make it stop, I can’t, I can’t!”

“You must push!” The Master spoke as the wet nurse cleaned the sweat from your brow. 

“No! No! No, I can’t!” You cried as you felt the excruciating pain between your legs. The child refused to come out, and you couldn’t anymore. It was too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t” It was all you could say and only stopped to gasp for air. 

“It’s too much, it hurts, it hurts. Please just make it stop” You continued to cry. 

Cregan stood by you watching as you struggled. He watched the Maester stand as Cregan followed.

“Help her.” It was a command. Cregan had watched you struggle for hours, but the child simply wouldn’t come. The Maester looked at him with a helpless look as your cries continued in the background. 

“I do not think the child will live like my lord.” The Maester spoke. 

“Will my wife?” A child, they could make another, but you? After these past months, everything he’s built with you? There was nothing that could replace you. 

“Possibly, at the expense of the child my lord.” The Maester spoke with such carefulness. “We can extract the child and it will live…however it would cut into the mother’s womb directly-”

“No, save my wife.” Cregan rejected the idea immediately. There would be too much blood loss, he would lose you and that wasn’t an option for him.

“If the child does not live, there is a possibility that she will become infertile.” The Maester tried once more. “Save. My. Wife.” Was all Cregan said before returning to your side as you cried. 

“They're going to take out the baby, it’ll be over soon.” Cregan watched you nod as tears spilled from your eyes. 

He watched the Maester as you gave one final push.

“The child! It was crowned! Push once more! Once more, the child will be out!” The Maester urged and gave it all you had, you pushed and you heard a cry. 

Cregan furrowed his brows. The Maester had said only one of you would live. Cregan stood up leaving you to carry your newborn. 

“What did you do?” Cregan asked in a low tone, narrowing his brow at the Maester. “I did nothing, I swear it. It was your wife. She persevered.” The Maester assured him.

Cregan looked back at you, a gleam of sweat on your face as you held your child. White hair on the top of its head. 

“A boy your grace.” The wet nurse smiled. You looked towards Cregan and gave him a smile and he returned it. 

Cregan walked to you and kissed your forehead as he looked down at his son, your heir. “He looks like you.” 

“A shame, I wished he took after his father.” Cregan gave another smile as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“Hold him.” You told him as you handed him off to your husband smiling, feeling the warmth radiating off your husband. Though you think the window is left open, because even as you felt Cregan’s warmth, the cold air seemed to overwhelm it. You shivered a bit as you looked towards your child and Cregan. 

“A Valyrian name. He was born Targaryen, as his mother.” Cregan leans against you, warming you. 

“Meaximus.” You whispered out smiling. “Meaximus Targaryen, my heir.”

Cregan went once more to kiss your face, but before he could process it, you moved yourself so that you would be kissing his lips. Your lips fit perfectly against his, moving in perfect motions as if this was your millionth kiss when it was your first one. The first kiss was shared with your husband. 

As you broke off the kiss to breathe, you gave him a smile. “You are my love,” You kissed him again. “My joy.” Once more you kissed him cupping his face. “You are my refuge.” Kissing him as if it were the last and he returned your eagerness. “And the truth of my life.” Once more you kissed him hoping to feel the warmth you had spent the last months basking in.

However as you kissed him, the warmth that he once filled with was overwhelmed by a cold. As you pulled away from him shivering and giving a smile you pulled the sheets up trying to keep yourself warm. You had never felt this cold, the fire in your blood, never allows you to run this cold.

But here you were, shivering. “P-perhaps they should…close the window no? It’s cold Cregan. He could catch a cold.” 

Cregan furrowed his brows. There were no windows open, in fact, this room was the warmest in all of Winterfell. He had made it so, knowing you much preferred warmth. He looked back toward the Maester whose hands were coated in blood. A slow shake of his head made Cregan shiver. He looked back at you, the flush of your face that always seemed to be there was now gone, and instead, your teeth clattered and your eyes looked tired. 

“Come!” Cregan spoke in desperation trying to keep you warm. “Just come,” You listened and cuddled close to Cregan, fingertips touching the cheek of your son who flinched away and made a face as he began to cry. 

“I’m cold Cregan.” You spoke as your hands touched his face. You were trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist. 

Cregan felt your cold hands draw him closer and once more he kissed you, but your lips were no longer warm, instead, they were cold and he felt them chapped. He leaned back. He watched you give a small smile as you began to cry. 

You looked up at him, then down to your son and as you did a lone tear escaped your eye. You didn’t want to die. Not yet, not now. Not when everything was going so well. You wanted to live, to have more children with Cregan, give him an heir. To see your son grow and you hope that he inherited his father's rugged handsomeness and not the beauty from the Targaryens. To see your little brothers meet your son. To see your mother rise to the throne and bless your son. You didn’t want to die. Not yet. However, it didn’t stop the black dots from taking your view. 

“Please…” You heard it faintly being spoken, like prayer or more so begging and you faintly registered a feeling of something on your lips. Closing your eyes you leaned into the kiss. A final kiss from your husband.

…

“He is beautiful,” Rhaenyra whispered as she looked at the boy whose beauty was unparalleled by any other child she had ever seen while tears escaped her eyes. She watched as Cregan nodded. The son between you and Cregan would be beautiful. A beauty that would transcend time and be sung about in ballads hundreds of years from now. 

Your son, your heir, your legacy. All that remained of her firstborn child. Her first and only daughter had lived with her. Try as she might, Rhaenyra could not stop the tears from falling. Her daughter, her heir, lost to childbirth as her mother was. Your dragon, Acrocanthosaurus, stood off to the side ready to burn you when commanded. Cregan had been kind enough to bring your body back to her to be burned like how all Targaryens left. 

Once more, she was made to burn her own family. As she tried to move forward, she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to burn her daughter. Not her daughter. So she stayed still watching what remained of you in his father's arms. 

“Dracarys!” Rhaenyra heard and she turned her head to find Jacaerys with that same look she once had when she had to burn her mother. Rhaenyra watched her sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey look at their sister as she burned. Little Aegon and Viserys in Daemon’s arms as he watched ahead with an unmoving face. 

Then she looked over to see your son who did not look upon your burning body but instead looked up towards Acrocanthosaurus. A wobbly smile grew on Rhaenyra’s face as she began to sob. 

The only thing that remained of you, it would only make sense if your blood once again reclaimed Acrocanthosaurus.

Notes: Jon Snow would hate to see reader coming. She does not fw these bastards 😭

Took inspo from Cerslay of Cuntly Rock (this edit pushed me to finish it)

All credit to tik toker: moonqsnat

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑/Gen Masterlist

[fairy-writes]

BIRD IN FLIGHT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Siren!Reader, Myth AU (I referenced the Trojan War in the last part), Enemies to… Something…

Notes: PART TWO TO SIREN SONG 

I’M JUST SAYING THE ITHACA SAGA HAS BEEN ON REPEAT SINCE IT DROPPED

Tag List: @hanniejji

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Admittedly, Soshiro was in a bit over his head with trying to gain your trust. 

Every time he went down to check on you in your cell, or read to you, or talk to you, you just cowered with a snarl in the corner of the prison they had trapped you in. 

You wouldn’t actively try and escape anymore, but you refused food and water, withering away in your cell. 

Soshiro has to do something. You’d be no good to them for bartering passage if you were dead. 

So he began to think. 

And think. 

And think. 

Until he was struck with an idea. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?” Ichikawa Reno asked. He was a newer addition to their crew, much like Kafka, but Kafka was busy, and Soshiro needed help with his idea. 

“Of course not. This could go horribly. But she’s no good to us dead, so it’s worth a shot.” He said as he adjusted the length of rope looped around his arm. 

The stairs down to the brig creak horrendously, quickly alerting you to their presence. It takes Soshiro’s eyes a moment to adjust, but you’re in the corner, as always. Reno swallowed thickly when he saw you and your emaciated body and wings. 

Feathers were scattered around you, and he watched as you took ahold of a feather and plucked it from your wings, letting it fall to the ground. You almost did it again, seemingly entranced by the twirling of the feathers from your fingers when he put the key in the lock and unlocked the cell door. The sound of the key jiggling in the iron lock roused you from your stupor, and your face soured with distrust when you realized who it was. 

You were surprisingly emotive for a creature of myth. Almost human-like. It was almost eerie to see such a pretty face surrounded by feathered hair and sharp teeth.

Reno stepped hesitantly into the cell and shut the door most of the way as he waited for Soshiro’s next move. 

Soshiro crouched in front of you, not stepping on your scattered feathers and just out of your reach in case you tried to attack him.

“I have a proposal for you.” He said, and you merely curled your lip in a snarl. At least, you did until you spotted Reno. Then, your face morphed into one of confusion. 

You were likely wondering why he was here. After all, you hadn’t seen him before, and the list of people who saw you most commonly comprised of Captain Ashiro and Soshiro. Kafka, Aoi, and the ship’s doctor came down to treat your injuries, but even then, that wasn’t a common occurrence. 

So, someone new was probably exciting. 

Soshiro continued speaking. 

“We’re willing to let you out. Supervised, of course, that’s why I have this rope. What do you say?” He said and didn’t miss how you perked up at the mention of being let out. However, almost immediately after, you shrank back when he held out the rope. Soshiro frowned but didn’t scoot closer. The memory of you trying to claw his eyes out was still fresh in his mind. 

“Might I try?” Reno asked, and Soshiro nodded after a moment of hesitation. He handed the rope off to Reno, who took his place and knelt before you. You huddled back warily, one wing drawn in front of you as if trying to protect yourself. You peeked through your feathers with untrusting eyes, but that didn’t sway Reno’s attempt. 

“Can I come closer?” He asked gently, like trying to soothe a spooked animal. Your eyes narrowed, and Soshiro noticed you were rubbing the scar around your throat. But you weren’t attacking or saying no…

Reno picked up on this and shuffled the barest bit closer. 

“What if I tie this around your wrist? Would that be okay?” He asked again and it was then that something changed. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” 

You spoke. 

Reno looked as shocked as Soshiro felt. But both soldiers recovered quickly, and Reno shrugged. 

“I suppose I feel you could use some kindness.” He said honestly, and now it was your turn to be shocked. Your wing drooped enough so they could both see your astonished expression. 

And then… 

Your eyes began to shine with unshed tears. Reno panicked as Soshiro was left with a feeling he couldn’t quite define in his chest. 

You were slow going up the stairs from the brig to the deck. The pain was evident in your frame as you stepped up the stairs. Soshiro couldn't help but stare at your balding wings as he walked behind you. Reno held the rope as he walked ahead, just in case. But Soshiro had the feeling that you wouldn’t be able to fly any time soon. 

Not with your wings the way they were. 

If they even healed.

All conversation ceased on deck when you reached the top of the stairs. Almost immediately, you shrank back and bumped into Soshiro, who had come up behind you. You winced, though you tried to hide it, as he aggravated your healing injuries. You looked back to glare, but he didn’t let that stop him from smiling in your direction, 

“Are you going to go up and get some fresh air? I imagine the brig is awfully stuffy.” He said and could see the resolve steeling in your bird-like pupils. 

You squared your shoulders, pulling them back as much as the bandages and scabs would let you, and walked out into the sunlight. 

The relief in your shoulders as you step into the ocean air is palpable. Your wings, which had been held high and proud behind you, dropped in a sudden calm. Even your hands, which were tied in front of you, relaxed in their bonds. 

Reno tied the other end of the rope to the mast while he was instructed to return to his work. Soshiro was ordered by Captain Ashiro to watch you. So he sat on a barrel of rations as he studied you. Slowly, everyone went back to their duties, and soon, you were ignored. 

Soshiro had the feeling that was how you preferred it. 

He watched you watch everyone else with curiosity. Your eyes were wide as you scanned the ship and everyone on it. You even sat down of your own volition and not because there was nothing else to do, like when you were back in your cell. You sat with your back against the mast, feet curled beneath you so you were out of the way of tramping boots and those scrubbing the deck. 

It didn’t take long for Soshiro to get up and approach you. You flinched with surprise as he sat down beside you and looked at him incredulously. 

“Figured you might want some company.” He teased and you just rolled your eyes.

But… You didn’t scoot away.

This became somewhat regular for you. You’d be bound by your wrists and brought up to the deck, where you were tied to the mast and allowed to watch the people working. You started to eat and drink again. 

Soshiro found you absolutely fascinating. 

You recoiled from his touch, yet you looked like you wanted to interact with him and his fellow humans. You eventually got to the point where he could touch your wings to check the splints, yet you wouldn’t let him touch your scars. 

He wondered why. 

He got his answer one night when he was at his post while everyone slept in the belly of the ship. You were tied at the helm of the boat while he used the stars to navigate them home. They had been nearing the land of sirens for days now. He could see the craggy rocks where your sisters resided. 

Was he ready to let you go? 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked, and Soshiro jolted in surprise. You spoke little, if at all. Your voice was rough from disuse and the injuries marring your throat. 

“Because we need you to barter passage through siren territory.” He said. He didn’t see any point in lying. But his resolve wavered when you barked out a harsh laugh. 

“That’ll just get you slaughtered. Why do you think I was in the water in the first place? We aren’t exactly close.” You bite out, and he frowns. 

“I thought sirens lived in flocks?” He said, and you shrugged, tilting your head back to look at the stars you passed under.

Soshiro looked up too, able to name the constellations used to guide them home. 

“Typically, we are. But not when you’re different, apparently.” You mutter under your breath, and it is then that the dots connected. 

“Did your sisters give you those scars and injuries?” He asked, and you stiffened. The splints had been taken off your wings at this point, and the feathers shifted uneasily behind your back. 

Eventually, you nod, somewhat upset that he figured it out. 

“I’m sorry,” He said and could see out of the corner of his eye how your head jerked up in surprise. 

“Why are you sorry?” You snap, and he shrugs. Flashes of his family pass behind his eyes. 

“I suppose I know what it’s like to not live up to the expectations of others. Or to be different. I’m… Not on the best terms with my family.” He said, and now it’s your turn to frown. 

“I’m… Sorry…” You say awkwardly, and he laughs out loud. 

“Don’t be. I got my own little family right here.” He said, gesturing to the boat where he could hear the wood creaking and the faint snores of his fellow soldiers.

For whatever reason, you looked sad. 

Things came to a head when they finally passed through the land of sirens. 

It was quiet at first. Soshiro didn’t see anyone or anything in the rock caves. But as the helmsman steered the ship past craggy outcroppings of stone, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

They were being watched. 

You could tell, too. Hunkered down under the stairs that led to the helm, and your wings were pinned tightly against your back. Soshiro kept his hand on the pommel of his sword and wedged some beeswax in his ears. He had heard about a siren’s song. The mystical ability to sing and hypnotize a sailor and bring them to their doom. 

He wasn’t sure why you hadn’t done that to him when you initially woke up, but he had the feeling it had to do with what your sisters did to you. 

He wasn’t even sure the wax in his ears would work. But it was worth a shot. 

And suddenly—There! Just on the edge of his hearing! A noise!

And it was then that the boat came to a stop, and the soldiers around him dropped their weapons. Captain Ashiro looked on blankly, her sword slipping from her hands as she fell under the siren’s spell. 

All the while, Soshiro watched on. 

He tightened his grip and drew his sword as the first siren dive bombed the ship. 

The scaly talons dug into the helmsman’s shoulders and yanked him off the ship. There wasn’t a scream or cry for help. Just silence as you cowered under the stairs. 

And then… They all came at once. 

Soshiro cut down siren after siren, but he didn’t have the time to put wax in anyone’s ears as they were pulled from the ship to their deaths.

A pair of talons dug through Soshiro’s armor like it was nothing but butter and lifted him from the ship. He slashed and cut, but the siren wasn’t like you. This siren was well-fed and strong. Her wings had a healthy sheen, and she actually had all her feathers. 

At least until you stepped in. 

He heard a guttural screech that he knew all too well, and suddenly, he was plummeting to the deck. 

What? 

He looked up and rolled to the side a split second before the siren hit the deck, missing one of her wings. Soshiro scooped up his sword and prepared to cut her down, but you were on her in a second. The two of you rolled and flailed and scratched and bit until you came out on top. 

The other siren didn’t move. 

You threw your head back and let out a deafening screech that he heard even through the wax in his ears. 

And… One by one… The sirens left.

The remaining crew seemingly snapped out of the spell and looked around, confused. 

You had protected them. 

Protected him. 

And it was beautiful. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Things not pictured because I’m not smart in fitting things in:

-Narumi Gen

-You trying to rip off Narumi’s head

-Just shenanigans with Narumi in general.

[booksooks]

Oh oh!! Shiggy w/ a gamer gf but shes also super social?

(𝑵𝑶𝑻) 𝑺𝑶𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑳

Author's note: this was a request from an anon (🩸anon hi sorry this took so long) im not sure if this is where you wanted this to go but! here we are :)

Content: Shigaraki being jealous and a little manipulative, oops.

Word Count: 1342

Summary: Shigaraki doesn't like it when you talk to other people.

Shigaraki watched you chatter to someone over your headset in annoyance from across the room. Whoever you were talking to must have been the most interesting person in the world, he thought, because otherwise why were you straight up ignoring him? You were supposed to be paying attention to him. Were you mad at him? Were you trying to send him some weird, wordless subliminal message by keeping your back turned to him, talking to anyone but him? (To be fair to you, you had never done anything like that before, you were fairly good at communication.) 

Shigaraki shuffled his feet awkwardly behind you, trying to get your attention via vibrations in the floor that you… most definitely didn’t feel. Your feet were tucked underneath you on the legs of the chair, and even if you were solidly against the ground, it was not. Enough. 

Was he not enough?

The thought squeezed at his heart, hard, and he didn’t like it. It made his neck itch, made his hands feel like they were being torn apart from the nails and - oh wait, that was just him, picking at hangnails. Your giggle, quiet but still bright and bubbly, broke him out of his thoughts. He looked down at his fingers, red and raw and irritated, and he shook, trying so hard to not bring his hands up and itch and itch and itch and itch- 

Fuck it, he decided, nails digging into the soft, scarred flesh of his throat. This couldn’t be worse than you ignoring him. He didn’t like feeling this way, this anxious, this… left out. How the hell did you stand talking to people like that anyway? It wasn’t fair; if he couldn’t get the damn words out in real life, how could you? Over the internet? It wasn’t fucking fair. 

Shigaraki paced around in the minimally empty space behind his gaming chair, because at least you had the decency to come to his room, to play those stupid, attention-stealing games, (under any other circumstances he would tell anyone, who would have the lack of common sense to ask, that those were some of his favorite games and why in great detail). But you were still ignoring him, it wasn’t fucking fair, and he wanted to throw something. 

Actually. 

Not a bad idea. 

Shigaraki looked around his room for something to toss at you, something that wouldn’t hurt, necessarily, but something that would grab your attention. A pen sat on his rumpled bed sheets for whatever reason. Perfect. He snatched it up carelessly and chucked it at the back of your head. Only it didn’t hit the back of your head, it hit the back of his chair, making the fabric bounce ever-so-slightly before it smoothed out. You briefly turned around to look at him, curious, and still yapping. 

“Hold on,” you mumbled to whoever was on the other end. Shigaraki saw you hit the mute button. “What’s up? Need something?” 

Yeah, you. Need your attention, your touch, your scent, your-

“What? No.” 

You stared at him for a bit longer, suspicious but not enough to deter you from turning back around and unmuting yourself. “Sorry about that.” 

Shigaraki saw red as he faintly heard a guy’s voice on the other end, laughing. At him. Indirectly, of course, there was no way he knew what he was laughing at, but still. Shigaraki wanted to press all five fingers against the monitor, against your headphones, the tower, fucking everything just to get, and keep, your attention on him. Why hadn’t he said he wanted your attention when you asked? Because it was fucking pathetic, that’s why. No grown man should have to beg for attention from his partner. That would be ridiculous, childish, and Shigaraki was damned if he’d turn into some pathetic, sniveling, begging wimp just because he couldn’t handle you talking to someone else. 

He was scratching again. The sound of his nails, clipped but still sharp, against his skin was overwhelming, the dull, hrrrgtz hrrrgtz hrrrgtz making his stomach churn. No, it didn’t, he was lying. What made his stomach churn was the fact that you were so easily chattering away to someone online when you had a perfectly good boyfriend, right there! For all your wants and needs. 

Fuck you. 

Shigaraki stormed as quietly as he could over to you, and without thinking,  yanked his chair away from the desk. You yelped, outraged, as your headset was ripped from your ears, and your ass slipped forward and off the chair, landing on the hardwood floor. 

“Woah, what was that? You good?” Came the voice over- fucking Christ, was that Discord? You weren’t even playing a 1v1 a fucking one-round-only piece of shit game with some shmuck, and he hadn’t even noticed. That had to change. Shigaraki slammed his hand flat against the screen and watched in delight as it started to crumble from the inside out, the other person’s voice dying out from the inside of your headphones. He only felt minimally better. 

“Tomura, what the hell?” You asked, sore of ass and indignant of attitude. “What the hell was that? I was talking to someone.” 

“Yeah, some fucking idiot,” he snarled, picking you up from the floor under the arms, carefully, he didn’t want to decay you afterall, and just about threw you on the bed. You were too surprised to even fight back, only letting out a small, “woa-mfh?” when you landed. You glared up at him, confused and disoriented and-  fuck you were cute. 

Shigaraki smiled, he knew it was nowhere near comforting, and crawled into bed with you, pushing you back onto the pillows before collapsing on top of you with a satisfied hum. He felt you, stiff and full of apprehension beneath him, and that just wouldn’t do. 

“Fucking relax, would you?” He huffed, trying to bury his face deeper into the crook of your neck. It was safe, there, dark and warm and it smelled like you. So yeah, safe. “You’re stiff as a board.” 

“Are you going to explain what the fuck just happened?” You asked, disbelievingly. “I was talking to someone-”

“Yeah, like I said, a fucking idiot. He doesn’t deserve your time.” Shigaraki was pouting, he knew he was, but he didn’t care. He deserved your attention more than anyone else. 

“And you think you do? After the stunt you just pulled?” You were angry. Or at the very least annoyed as hell. 

Shigaraki stayed quiet for a moment. “Yeah.” 

“Fucking hell.” 

Things were silent for a few minutes, the only sounds being your breathing and his, mingled together. Shigaraki had even started to relax, letting his eyes fall closed when you spoke up again. 

“You can’t- Tomura, you can’t just demand my time and energy when I’m busy, and expect me to drop everything for you.”

Shigaraki felt his lip curl. “Why not? I’m your boyfriend, I should be your top priority.” 

“Okay, but I have a life, and friends. You get to talk to your friends, why can’t I?” 

Oh. Shigaraki hadn’t thought of that. Especially not in the way you had framed it. Was he in the wrong here? Should he apologize? Shigaraki scrunched up his face and thought back to all the visual novels he had ever played, all the manga he had read. Usually, when someone fucked up, for lack of better words, they apologized. That’s right. So…

“I’m sorry,” he grunted out against your neck. “For… being so aggressive.” 

He felt you shift beneath him, tilting your head one way and then the other in thought. “Just… don’t do it again, okay?” 

Shigaraki nodded subtly, wanting nothing more for the whole apologizing part to be over and done with.“Fine.” 

It was another few seconds before he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, and he sighed softly, feeling you loosen up and melt into his mattress. Finally. He felt, more than heard you utter a quiet, “love you,” before you settled back into silence. 

He had your attention. “Love you too.”

End Notes: thanks for reading!

AO3 Link

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 7

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring private investigator!Tim Rockford)

Word count: 6,209

Summary: A friendship reaches a new level, Dave gets the truth about Carol, and a misunderstanding brings two people closer than they've ever been..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Fluff. One adorable dog. Mentions of food/eating, alcohol/drinking. Fingering. Oral (f&m receiving). Infidelity (but a certain someone was unfaithful first so.. Uno reverse?) More marital strife (sorry). Porn-shaming. A lovers' misunderstanding. Angst. Unprotected piv. (please lmk if I've missed anything)

Author’s note: This is where they finally hook up. Wave. Of. Relief. Also, the whole Tim scene was really just me thinking about that old show Cheaters. It really scarred me for future relationships lol.

Series Masterlist

Common sense tells you to stay away from Dave while the investigation is going on. He's vulnerable now, and as your attraction grows stronger with each passing day, you know it'll soon be impossible to hold back from the natural predilection for being close with him.

In short, you're not so sure you can keep your hands to yourself when you're around him.

On a sunny weekend you meet at a pet adoption agency and, true to your word, you choose a dog together, a beagle named Maple, and the first time you bring her home, Dave stays for almost the rest of the day, helping set up what she needs and playing with her. There's a light in his eyes as he spends time with your new pet, a gleam that you haven't seen before, and it touches your heart.

He's invited to come over anytime he wants just to spend time with her, and he happily takes you up on the offer, indulging in more late night dinners and movies. Maple's a good chaperone, much too cute to ignore, and she keeps you from lingering on the sinful thoughts you're having about each other. For the time being, anyway.

You become a great means of support to Dave, a lifeline, and in that commisseration of your wrecked marriages, you find not just solace but a profound closeness. You spend every lunch hour together, at your cafe or at his office, sharing meals and talking about your day. No subject is too mundane or too trivial to insitgate conversation about a million other things, discussions that Javier would easily get bored of, and that Carol would dismiss as silly.

In a white floral print dress that's intentionally too short and too tight to fully button up, you visit Dave on your lunch break, bringing homemade soup and sandwiches, knowing he has a busy day ahead with meetings and court dates, and wanting him to have some comfort food in the midst of it all.

Despite his feelings for you, he likes to remain above reproach. Your visits are never secret, and when you're in his office his blinds are open. Nothing inappropriate passes between you anyway. Your looks and your words are the most intimate things that you share, at least since the heated kiss not so long ago. (Even if anyone gives a second thought to your visits, most of Dave's coworkers and their spouses hate Carol and would keep mum just to spite her.)

Still, you look like the sweetest sin, and under his desk Dave has to shift to accommodate his growing hard-on, eyes feasting on the playful lift of your brow, the curve of your smiling lips, the graceful column of your neck and the bountiful billow of your breasts, practically on display. He knows it's just for him. Spending so much time, you don't have room for any other guy.

"Are you listening?" you giggle, your bubbling laughter doing not-so-innocent things to Dave's dick.

"Yeah. Of course I'm listening. And yes, we're still on for tonight. Carol's already said she's doing a girls' night with some of the women from the hospital."

"I can't wait," you smile. "It's so good to spend time with you and the girls. I wish.."

"Wish what?" he whispers, his hand reaching out for yours.

"It's selfish, but I wish it could always be this way. When I think about my life before you, it's a blank. I don't know how I managed to stay sane, but when I'm with you I feel.. alive. I don't want to know what it's like to not have you in my life."

Dave pulls your hand across the table, bringing it to his lips to plant a soft sweet kiss on the back. "Baby, you don't know how much that means to me. It's like I'm drowning, and then I talk to you and suddenly I have air again. You're the only thing worth staying above water for."

"I think we're saving each other from drowning," you tell him.

Dave walks you out, insisting as usual to escort you back across the street, and this time when you step into the elevator, there's a charge in the air, a new tension both of you know has always been inevitable.

The close, cramped space of the elevator, you in that dress, curves begging to be caressed, your sweet floral perfume beckoning him closer. There are no words exchanged as you share a look, communicating everything in that prolonged glance. He's thankful no one else is on, and his heart leaps right before he presses the STOP button.

You press him to the wall in a kiss full of longing, aching for his taste, for the feel of his tongue against yours. Your panties are sopping wet within seconds as his hands find their way under your dress, his large hands smoothing over your skin as your own fingers find their way under his jacket, hungering to feel his muscles and the heat of his skin under your palms. You settle for the cotton of his light blue button-up.

"We should stop," you tell him, pushing your panties to the side as his fingers slide between your warm thighs.

"Yeah, we should." He teases your folds, relishing in the sighs and tremors that go through you at his delicate touch.

"You're married," you remind him, a gasp leaving you as he pumps not one but two thick fingers inside your drenched pussy. Dave's head drops down, trying to contain himself, willing himself not to come in his pants then and there. Never felt anything so fucking wet in my life..

"A married man whose wife is fucking someone else," he says,a lawyer even when he's hot and hard for you. "I want you to come for me, baby. I need to know what you sound like, what you look like, what you taste like when you come." He pumps slow and steady, fingers scissoring to feel all of you, and imagine how well you'd take him if he could fuck you right now. "You're so fucking wet, I know you need to come, baby."

You grasp his wrist, feeling the strength behind his skillful touch as you greedily take every plunge of his fingers, crying his name in a shudder as his thumb swipes your clit.

"Keep your eyes on me, baby," he utters, giving your bottom lip a soft bite. "I want to see your eyes when you come."

Unable to speak, you nod, your high-pitched gasps and moans letting him know you're close. He crooks his fingers, too caught up in the surreality of the moment to even think about teasing you or edging you the way he fantasizes about. "That's it, isn't it?" he smiles as he takes a moment to bury his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, his fingers finding that spot deep inside that is your undoing. You're squirming under his touch now, desperate.

"It's all you, baby, come for me," he whispers, holding your chin up so your eyes meet his. And as if they're magic words, you come apart under his touch, clamping down on his fingers, earning a deep, satisfied grunt from him. Just when you think one wave is over, another starts, his fingers continuing their blessed work inside your cunt.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs as you finally push him away, overstimulated, eyes glassy in fucked out bliss, some loose strands of hair caught in your lip gloss. He removes his fingers gently, your glaze sticky on them. With his eyes on you he licks off your essence, closing his eyes briefly at the taste of you, just as he'd imagined.

After, he makes sure you're okay, cleans you up with his handkerchief from his jacket, wishing he could wear the heavenly scent of your pussy on him all day, but he'll switch it out for a new one later.

"I'm not ready to go yet," you murmur, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

Before he realizes what's happening, you're on your knees in front of him, fingers deftly working at undoing his belt buckle. He doesn't make a move to stop you. No man in his right mind, married or not, would deny you anything. "Here, baby," he says, handing you his jacket to give you cushion for your knees. He runs his fingers through your hair, heart pounding madly in his chest as you look up at him with those irresistible eyes, releasing his cock from its confines.

Thank you Jesus, I knew it, I fucking knew it! You glory in the big fucking dick that you always knew Dave was packing down there. Your mouth pools with saliva as you give him a couple teasing strokes, marveling at the swollen shaft, curved, ringed with smaller veins and one large one running along the top. He tips his head back against the wall, breathing heavily as you give little kitten licks across the head, scooping up his trickling precum.

Carol can have this every day and she chooses not to. What the hell is wrong with her? A victorious little smirk curls the corners of your mouth as you drag your tongue along the underside, your free hand gently palming his balls, feeling their heft in your hand. Just thinking about how much he's going to unload makes your cunt clench in anticipation.

"Stop.. teasing.." he begs, looking as if he's close already. "Not fair.."

"Good point," you tell him, unable to keep back a smile. You move the shoulders of your dress down, pushing it over your breasts and bringing your bra down as well, baring your breasts to him. Practically drooling at the sight, Dave fondles one in his large palm, his thumb rubbing avariciously over your nipple, bringing it to a tight little bud.

At last you take him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you slurp the first couple of inches, adding pressure by stiffening your tongue. One hand rests on his base against his neatly trimmed pubes, the other on his thigh, hard muscle and soft hair under your palm.

Taking him in as far as your throat allows, you alternate between using your mouth and your hand, spitting on his shaft to add lubrication, watching him innocently from below as Dave loses control little by little. His hands tangle in your hair, thumbs caressing your cheeks as you gag on him, pulling away and leaving a stringy mess of saliva between your lips and his cock.

Poor Dave hasn't been blown in ages.. I'm so lucky to be the one to give him this.. You use your fist and mouth in tandem, bobbing your head as your fist works the base, keeping your eyes on him as he tries desperately to hold back.

Giving his balls a little massage, you hear him groan and feel him shiver. Keeping your mouth suctioned to his cock, he cries out in relief as he pulses and shoots his load down your throat.

By the time you reach the ground floor you both look like nothing ever happened, not even a hair out of place nor a button fastened wrong. As you part ways in front of the bakery/bookstore you exchange a small, secret smile, with the promise of more stolen moments to come.

Dave almost regrets having to go home, but Molly and Alice are the only bright spots there, and he brings them a couple of brand new Squishmallows, loving the light in their eyes as they greet him home. They don't know that you're coming over later, just in case they accidentally spill the beans to their mom. So far they think of you as a babysitter who's also their dad's friend.

After dinner, Carol's quiet, like a ghost hating the place she haunts she goes about cleaning up the table, putting things in the dishwasher, putting an extra load of laundry in the wash, rejecting Dave's offers of help. This is something he'll be yelled at about later. It's nothing new.

He's counting down the minutes until she leaves and you can come over. He texts you some ideas of movies to watch with the kids, maybe more Disney classics, or even the older greats like E.T, The Princess Bride, Matilda, or Jumanji.

But when Carol sees him smiling at his phone, a light blush on his face because he's recalling the passionate encounter between you two in the elevator, her face sours.

"I think you need to get help. You have a porn addiction," she frowns at him.

He's too happy to argue back. "Yeah, sure, maybe."

She makes a sound of disgust. "I don't know what a man your age still watches that stuff for."

Again he makes no answer, choosing instead to cold-shoulder her anger, hoping she'll just complain her anger away while he texts you, in between reading work emails. Waiting for a quiet moment in her muttering, he asks, "So, how was work?"

"It was long.. and hard," she says, putting laundry away in the dresser.

Dave's knuckles grow white with holding back from telling her everything he knows she's done. Playing pretend has never been so damn difficult. He swallows the bile that dares to rise in his throat when he thinks how she's played him. "I bet. Sounds rough."

A little sigh from her, and when he glances up he swears he sees a little pink on her cheeks in her reflection in the vanity mirror. "It was pretty rough," she says lightly.

His eyes narrow and he can practically feel the blood pulsing through his body. How can she be so callous, so uncaring about the risks she's taking? Does she know how she's just stringing him along?

"I can imagine," he replies, voice tight.

Carol must sense his sarcasm, because she turns in her seat to glare at him. "You don't know what it's like for me. The long hours, the responsibility, the lives I hold in the palm of my hand."

He nearly snorts in laughter. "No, you're right, Carol. I don't know what any of that is like. All I do is go to the office and joke around with the guys, fuck the paralegals, and come home to a cold bed, spend my money on webcam girls, then go to sleep, only to start it all over in the morning. With you as the occasional guest star," he rants.

"You're outrageous," she mutters, slicking on some lip balm. "I don't have time for this. I'm going out."

To see Joel Dave finishes her sentence, hands fisted at his side as he tries to control his breathing. Only his wife can make him so hotheaded, so willing to damn everything to hell over a snide comment.

"You don't have time for what?" he repeats. "To talk to me?"

"What's there to talk about? We stopped talking and fucking a long time ago." She's in the closet putting on a silk blouse and looking for shoes to go with it.

"You always use work as an excuse. You do it deliberately to avoid being here at all!"

"I had a life before I met you! Excuse me for trying to find a little fulfillment apart from you and the girls. You don't define me!"

That comment stings. Dave hasn't realized until now how big a part of his life Carol's been, and how much of his youth he spent building a life she would love. Now here she is dumping all over it.

"I never wanted to define you. I just wanted to make you happy," he says quietly.

His sincerity does nothing for her. "Do you want a fucking parade?"

"You know what? A parade would be great because at least I'd be getting some attention. I-"

He's cut off as Carol grabs him and kisses him. Taken off guard, Dave freezes, his body unable to react to her lips on his. Finally he puts his hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her away, breaking the contact and stepping back. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you want to?" she asks, looking almost hurt. She comes close again and presses the flat of her palm against his crotch then takes it away as if she's burned herself. "You're not even hard."

The blood rushes back to his cock as he recalls the way your lips wrapped around him, tongue laving him as your beautiful eyes gazed up so innocently. Of course he's not hard when you drained every drop of him earlier.

"Of course I'm not," he says, turning away so she can't see the longing in his eyes, the obvious bulge when he does start to get hard again thinking about you in that elevator. "Do you expect me to be in the mood when we're arguing?"

"You used to tear my clothes off after every argument. Or have you forgotten?"

He remembers well the passion of their youth. Carol had always been feisty and tempestuous and that excited him before. Their arguments, no matter the subject, typically led to a passionate embrace. And now.. perhaps time has reshaped them.

"Will you at least lay down with me?" Carol's request comes as a surprise, given how demure she sounds. He looks at her, resting on her side of the bed, and he almost feels guilty for his earlier transgression with you. But he knows Carol has done worse, and likely has been for a long time.

But he's been with her this long out of habit, or maybe it's because she knows how to play him, and only recently stopped the game, tossing her cards aside and abandoning the rules when that stupid plumber came around.

What Dave can't resist is a little peace around the house, an interim white flag. And that particular white flag is in the form of laying next to his wife, watching her fall asleep as her eyes flutter shut.

You return to Dave's house, still under the impression that you're going to hang out, maybe make some dinner with the kids while Carol's gone. There are two cars in the driveway this time, and as you make your way to the door you wonder how to introduce yourself if Carol's actually here.

The girls let you in, hugging your legs as you come inside. Heart brimming over, you ruffle their hair, placing soft kisses on the tops of their heads.

"Mommy and Daddy are asleep," they tell you, bringing you to the half-open door of the master bedroom.

You're unprepared for the stab of jealousy as you see husband and wife resting peacefully, holding hands in their slumber.

Has he forgiven her? Has she somehow wormed her way back into his heart? Maybe he's loved her all this time and is willing to overlook her discretions, just as you secretly forgave Javier's for so many years. Maybe neither of you have any backbone when it comes to letting people walk all over you. Maybe it's a secret kink.

You can only control your own choices, and as soon as you sit alone in your car, you let the silence engulf you before you pull up the application for the culinary program in Paris, quickly entering your info before applying, sealing your fate.

Dave wakes before Carol, rubbing his eyes and stretching. It's nearly ten p.m. and he checks his phone, jolting up when he realizes he never texted you not to come over. The fight with Carol and the tenuous white flag raised between them had come so suddenly that he'd not given thought to the night in he promised you.

He gets out of bed, careful not to wake his wife. As soon as he leaves the room the girls are on him, telling him you came by but had already left. Dave quickly shuts the door as quietly as he can, to stop Carol from hearing them. He takes them out of the hallway and questions them.

"She told us not to wake you up," Molly says.

"Did she say anything else?" Dave's heart is in his throat.

"She told us to be good and that you and Mommy love us," Alice answers. "Can she come over every day?"

"She was crying," Molly added.

That's a twist of the knife already in his heart. He imagines how it must have been for you, walking in and seeing him with his wife, probably assuming the worst.

"Did she say where she was going?" he asks.

"No," they answer, already bored with the questions. "Can we go spend the night at Michelle's?"

"No, honey, it's very late," he says, heart skipping a beat when his phone buzzes with an incoming call.

Tim.

With an ache in his gut, throat constricted, he answered, somehow able to speak. "This is David," he answers, quickly moving out onto the patio to take the call.

"Mr. York, this is Rockford. Do you have time to come in tomorrow so I can discuss my findings." The PI is pretty blunt, just what Dave needs to get out of the cloud of confusion he's in.

"Tomorrow? Can't you just tell me now?" The thought of having to wait another twelve hours is excruciating.

"That's not the way I like to do things, Mr. York. But if this is an ASAP kind of thing you can drop by my office." He gives the address which Dave quickly makes a mental note of.

Of course Carol makes a face when he tells her he has to go into work. A necessary lie, but he takes note of how much she seems to dislike having to stay home. He wonders if she misses Joel, if she even loves him. That's a thought he tries not to entertain for too long or it'll drive him crazy.

The PI's office is in a small room overhead a Korean grocery shop downtown. As Dave traverses the the entrance via the back alley and up a couple flights of stairs, he gets the notion that he's in a 1930s film noir, complete with dingy hallway with wooden paneling, and a door advertising Tim's services as a PI, the signage somewhat faded on the frosted glass. Dave expects the surly former cop to show up in a trenchcoat and a Trilby, but the man appears in the doorway, a loosened tie and white shirt, gray slacks. Tim looks ready to call it a day.

He offers Dave a drink, to which Dave firstly declines, then decides better of it. If he's offering alcohol, it's probably bad news. He thanks Tim for the proffered bourbon and fortifies himself with a sip as they get situated at Tim's desk.

"As you well know, you've paid me to keep tabs on your wife, one Carol Marie York, forty-four years of age, and have surveiled her comings and goings these past few weeks. This is what I've found."

He pulls out a manila folder from an accordion file index and presents it to Dave. "About eighty percent of the time she's not actually at work, as she gives you reason to believe. The other twenty percent she's definitely at the hospital, keeping herself shut away in her office. No visitors during those times."

There's a sinking feeling in Dave's stomach and he feels all the blood rush from head. He doesn't touch the folder, as if it'll burn him. "And the 'eighty percent' as you say? What's she actually doing? Seeing this.. Joel idiot?"

"I've identified her companion as one Joel Richard Miller, fifty years of age, a plumber with a company that services Mercy Memorial, the hospital where Carol works."

Dave leans back in his chair, his grip on his glass of bourbon growing tighter. "That must be how they met.."

"They are not seen together at the hospital," Tim continues. "Their typical MO is to meet at the Starlight Motel, less than an hour from here." He takes the folder and leafs through the info. There are photos of Carol and Joel meeting up in separate cars, going into the same room, smiling, kissing, holding each other while they think they're not being watched.

"I have photos and audio, if you want further evidence."

"Audio??"

Tim shrugs. "Just between us, I have a friend on the force who lends me better equipment for high profile cases such as yours. It's not always easy to get pictures through the windows."

"What.. what's on the audio?" Dave asks, almost timidly. He knows the ascertainment of such evidence by such means is toggling some very blurry lines of legality, but for once in his life he's not going to play by the rules. Forty five years of being good has earned him some legroom to forgo his typically heroic beliefs.

Another sigh from Tim. "You can listen for yourself, or I can tell you: they're definitely fucking."

"Oh, god." Dave puts his glass down on the desk and holds his head in his hands. Tim, used to such reactions, goes around his desk and gives his client a strong pat on the back.

"I'm never happy to pass on news like this," he comforts Dave. "But you have a right to know. You're not the first man whose wife stepped out on him. What you do with this information is completely up to you." He passes the brokenhearted man a box of tissues, letting him have his moment.

"Tell me more about this Joel guy." Dave's voice is strained.

"He's single, lives alone on the east side of town. Worked in the home services industry for almost thirty years. He's big. Strong. I'd say ex-football player."

Of course. Joel was the opposite of Dave, in almost every way. Maybe that's the kind of man Carol needs. Or maybe she's just slumming. Now faced with more questions than answers, Dave slams back the rest of his bourbon, all his senses buzzing.

"I don't usually do this," he says, coming back around his desk to face his client head on. "But you seem like a good guy. If you want, we can catch them in the act."

"How?"

Tim relays the evidence, the patterns of their meeting nights and times, the place already established. Dave doesn't know how he'd not been able to see the signs right in front of him. The late nights all matched up at the same hours, on the same nights, with rare exceptions.

"If all goes according to plan, they'll meet up tomorrow night at the motel. You can be there to catch them in the act, and I'll be there to make sure nothing happens that shouldn't."

It doesn't take a lawyer's imagination to think of every possible result from him catching Carol and Joel red-handed. It would be satisfying, despite the evidence Tim has gathered. He needs to confront them in person, demand answers. Maybe Joel doesn't even know Carol's married. Worse, maybe he knows and just doesn't care.

"Let's do it," Dave agrees.

After leaving Dave's, you drove straight to work, throwing yourself into doing some work after hours, handling the invoices and filling out supply orders ahead of schedule. Anything to keep you from thinking about what you saw. Soon you found your office too confining, and started moving packages to the front, refilling display cases and restocking shelves, making room for new books. Anything to keep you distracted.

A knock at the glass door snaps you from your spell and you see Dave, peering in, waving to you. With a knot in your gut you go and open the door.

"Hey," you say quietly once he's inside.

"Hey," he says back, stuffing his hands in his pocket, unsure what to do with them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you.. to talk. I went by your place but your sister said you were here."

"She wanted to get away from my parents for a bit, and keep Maple company."

"Good.. that's good." Dave nods.

"You could have called. You didn't need to come over."

"I wanted to see you." A ghost of a smile passes his lips, warming you a little.

"I saw you with Carol," you mutter. "In your bed.. it looked like you'd forgiven her."

A shard of guilt pierces him. "I know.. the girls told me. I am so sorry, baby." He makes a move to reach out for you but pauses. "Please.. look at me."

You reluctantly bring your eyes to his, brimming over with tears. He takes your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. "I promise you, it wasn't what it looked like." He could kick himself for saying such a cliche thing. You've probably heard it over and over from Javier.

"Do you still love her?"

The question hits him like a kick in the stomach, and his immediate instinct is to say no, that he doesn't love Carol at all, and he wouldn't be going through all this if he did. But that's far too black and white, too easy of an explanation. And he doesn't want to lie to you.

"It's complicated," he mumbles.

You don't say anything for a long while, leaving him tense and worried.

"She's the mother of my children, and the first woman I was ever serious about. We fought last night," he continued, "and then I guess we just had no more fight left in us." He sighs. "I just came back from Rockford's office. She's having an affair with that plumber."

"I'm sorry," you tell him. "I'll send some condolence cookies to your office." You turn to go, torn between wanting to comfort him and needing to turn him away.

It's too tempting right now to start an argument, all your pent up passion needing to be externalized. "My own divorce wasn't nearly as messy as this situation is. I don't love my ex-husband. There's nothing complicated about it."

"Will you listen to me?" he goes after you, grabbing your hand and turning you to face him. "Yes, it's complicated with Carol. It always has been. The only uncomplicated part about my life is you!"

Now the tears fall freely. "Dave, I can't risk my heart getting involved any further. I have to protect it." You wipe your face with the heel of your hand, makeup smudged but you could care less. "You deserve more than being a cuckold. I would never do to you what she did. If I had you in my bed every night I'd have no need of satisfaction elsewhere."

That thought sets him ablaze, the memory of you on your knees in that cramped elevator, your tight wet mouth wrapped around him.. he could have that every night if he could leave Carol so easily.

"I know you wouldn't.. because you actually care about me."

"No, Dave. I fucking love you." Realizing what you just said is a jolt to your system, but you continue. "Please don't choose the woman who betrayed you over the woman who's madly in love with you."

He takes a breath and cups your cheek, gazing into your eyes as he speaks. There's a vulnerability in his voice. "Do you really mean that?"

Your feelings are laid bare, your heart open to him and there's nothing more frightening or more exhilarating. "Dave, I shouldn't have said-"

He shakes his head, silencing you with a firm but gentle touch. "Please, just let me say this. The fact is, I'd choose you. If if came down to it and I had to choose, there would be no contest. I'd choose you. Every damn time."

Your lips meet his in a crashing kiss, alighting both of you with need. Hands on your hips he presses you to the nearest flat surface, a large wooden bookshelf. Dave's kisses travel down your jaw, your neck, and he rips open the top buttons of your dress to get to the swell of your pretty breasts, pressing messy kisses and love bites on your supple skin.

"I need you," you moan, "right now." Your desire is growing out of control.

"God.. I need you too," he says breathlessly. He unbuttons his jeans, quickly pulling down what he needs to, while you hurriedly remove your panties. He grabs your thigh, hooks your leg around him as he presses the tip of him to your dewy folds, teasing you until you're squirming with need.

"This okay?" His breath is hot against your ear. "I don't have a condom. I can pull out.."

You shake your head. Even if you weren't on birth control you'd want to feel him in every way, want that glorious pump of his seed filling you. "It's okay, I'm good, I want it."

He eagerly lines himself up. "You're dripping already.. fuck, I don't think I can hold back.." He slides into you, slowly, savoring this moment he knows he'll look back on for years to come. "I love you," he moans, unable to help the last snap of his hips that delivers his full length into you. He's surrounded by you, warm and tight and oh so wet. "I wanted to be inside you when I said that," he confesses, thrusting home again, filling you deeply.

"Dave," you moan, looping your arms around his neck as he thrusts at a languid pace, shivering from keeping himself at bay. He's a stretch to fit, but he keeps his thumb on your clit, working in small circles as he fills you.

"Please, fuck me," you beg, nails digging into the nape of his neck as you break from a sloppy, delicious kiss. "We waited too long for this.. fuck me now and make love to me later."

He shakes his head, the pleasure already creeping up into his balls. "Gonna come if I don't stop now." He picks you up and carries you to the nearest sofa, both of you giggling as he tries to walk with his pants down around his ankles.

He places you on the sofa, legs spread apart for him as he settles himself beneath you, raising the hem of your dress over your hips. Hooking your legs under his arms he brings you to the edge of the cushion and places small, teasing kisses along the insides of your thighs, groaning as you run your fingers through his hair.

Dave looks at you like you're a miracle, breath warm on your soft skin, tongue dipping out to taste you. He'd had a taste earlier when he licked your cream off his fingers, but there's nothing like drinking from the source. "I love you," he rasps, saying it after planting each kiss upon your thigh, until he reaches his destination, blowing soft cool air on your clit.

"Dave," you groan again, hips eager for him to press forward.

"Payback," he reminds you how you teased him in the elevator almost twelve hours before.

"Mmm.. punish me as you see fit.."

He takes his time once he's there, languidly licking a stripe up your center, delighting in your sweet little moan as his tongue swipes over your clit. His tongue delves into your folds as if to memorize your shape and your taste. You sigh when he pays attention to one side, and your entire body tenses when he laps along the other. When he fucks you with his tongue the handsome curve of his nose rubs against your clit until you're a shivering mess beneath him, your essence all over his face.

Waiting until you're just on the edge, he pulls back, using his fingers just as before, knowing what it will take to get you to come all over his hand. He pulls the most beautiful moans from you, such symphonic sighs as you scream his name. And the cherry on top is when he purses his lips around your taut little clit and sucks as his fingers curl inside you, making you moan louder than he's ever heard anyone as you coat his face with your juices.

He's inside you again, your warmth clasping around him as if he belongs there, in your perfect pussy, buried deeply as he pistons his hips against yours, the culmination of every fantasy he's ever stored up about you now becoming real as you buck your hips up beneath him, demanding all of him, taking every inch because you're made just for him.

True to his word, he fucks you, makes you his in every way. There's nothing so perfect as the feeling of you coming on his cock, squeezing him and urging on his own climax. Once again ensuring that you want him to, he comes hard, painting your sweet cunt with his spend until it's spilling out of you while he's still inside. There's no doubt when you're screaming his name and it's ringing throughout the empty bookstore, you belong to each other and always have.

"Are you okay?" he asks sometime later when you've both caught your breath, holding onto each other for dear life.

"I'm wonderful," you answer, body still thrumming with pleasure, a lightness in your heart that nothing else has ever produced.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647 @milla-frenchy

@everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love @ppascalq

(sorry it's a little later than I promised!)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

im so excited for the new yuu... waiting for them to join the manga yuu family...... is there any traits you'd like them to have? maybe to parallel or completely contrast jamil, since he's the OB boy this time around?

tbh I hope they keep it up w the different body types rep 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ it's nice to see that even if they keep the "pretty average boy/girl" motif (?), they are trying different stuff w them. I hope we have more varied yuus in the future (goes for the anime too !!! I'm curious to see what that yuu is going to be like as well- or if they're just gonna adapt the manga and nor change the yuus, I wouldn't mind that either tbh)

[Referencing this news! More about the mangaka here.]

I don't really have a preference for what traits the new Yuu for the Episode of Scarabia has. I can't really find myself getting invested in the manga Yuus because I know that they won't stick around for very long (and definitely not long enough to have any sort of meaningful character arc). I also think it's disappointing that we get these characters that seem to be intentionally designed to be foils to the OB boys, but we never really get additional interactions between the Yuu and the OB boy that would add more meaning to their relationship or flesh out how that Yuu helps the OB boy change over time. Real missed opportunity there.

Some common ideas I've seen floating around for the Scarabia arc Yuu are:

Princess Jasmine coded (and/or at least femme) Yuu

someone in a servant position but, unlike Jamil, they are not resentful of their role and instead is optimistic about the future

"rags to riches" Yuu

I also know that some people are hoping for a dark-skinned or a Middle Eastern Yuu, but this in of itself is not a character trait so I'm not counting this in the list. Ideally I would like more variety in our Yuus (not just in race or gender, but in other factors like age or occupation) but I don't know how likely it will be that Twst actually commits to it (especially since the latter may change the interactions by a lot). I'm not even sure if they'd step outside of the box for designs/backstories if it doesn't contribute anything to the narrative foils they're trying to set up. Like, I'm pretty sure the manga team didn't decide to make Yuuta (the Yuu for Octavinelle) a large boy for the sake of diversity but rather to show Azul you can still love yourself and be content even if your body is a certain way. (I discuss the manga Yuus and how they contrast with their respective OB boys more here!) I don't see what making the Scarabia Yuu dark-skinned, Middle Eastern, or a different body type does to add to or enhance Jamil's character. It's not like Yuuka (for Savanaclaw) had to be dark-skinned or African to be Leona's foil, or Yuuken (for Heartslabyul) had to be small and British to be Riddle's foil, right? But both Yuuka and Yuuken were physically fit; we had a strong woman (with a scar in her design to match Leona) that played righteously to contrast Leona's underhandedness and a disciplined but kind man to show Riddle you can maintain a level of sternness without being overbearing on your peers. They were given character traits, rather than solely physical traits, which reflect their OB boy. It would be great to have the diversity, yes! Again though, I don't think the mangaka are designing Yuus with diversity in mind, but rather what the design does for the characters of the OB boys.

Finally, in regards to the anime, it has been announced to be an adaptation of the manga. That, presumably, means we will see the manga Yuus of each book's arc animated. Until we get news that states otherwise, I'm assuming this to be the case.

[kipsa-hoy]

COMMON SCAR W!!!!!!!

[lowkeyrobin]

FOURTHGRADE ; dating hcs

warnings ; language, talk of substances, talk of like makeout stuff (not in great detail or anything but yk)

genre ; fluff

requested by ; @th0tblckgrl

masterlist

guys, he isn't dumb, he just lacks common sense I swear

he excells in tech classes and art stuff

math and science will be his downfall (real tbh)

always films you doing tricks and shit

has a whole vhs worth of film of raw, unedited footage of you two skating together (mostly you) and stupid cute shit he's caught on camera

he titles it "y/n/n <3" with a red sharpie too.

dyeing his hair w him

he never switches out that bleach & pink istg

it makes for good hangouts and stuff tho

you watch his gecko for hours while he's doing homework and shit

she's just so adorable omg

he likes you on top when you're making out and shit

he loves being straddled and being able to hold you by the waist and shit

he's not super clingy or anything but he loves his hand holding and cuddles

he has acne, and if you do too, oh my lord match made in heaven

he loves tracing your scars with his infamous red sharpie and it stains your face for almost a day lmao

he likes picking at your bacne just through impulsive thoughts

"ow! Jesus christ!"

"sorry! it was ready to pop, I swear"

dude Ray loves you two together sm

he's your biggest shipper <3

fuckshit constantly teases you two

I personally hc that fourthgrade is asexual so here's context for the next one

since he's ase (and even if you are two! me too twin) you guys don't take it all that sexual, and gets a little icked when the guys make jokes about you two fucking sometimes

most the time he laughs it off but other days he's just eughhh

and you instantly turn to whoever made the joke and silently shake your head and do the 'you're dead sign' with a respectful face iykwim

he likes staring in your eyes sometimes and getting lost in them

when he's writing movie scripts for fun, he uses you as a faceclaim (along with the other boys tbh) for whatever lead there is or the leads love intrest/best friend. everytime without fail

basically just fanfiction about you two

again like fuckshit, friendship before relationship

matching belts or band shirts

if you also dye your hair fun colors, he dyes it for you

movie nights every night I swear

getting high with him in the dead of night on a friday/saturday night >>>>

hugging him from behind too 💔💔💔

I'm not like trying to infantilize him, he's just a softie for u

stealing shopping carts and bringing them back to skate locations is just a tradition

a lot of times Ray and Fuckshit are busy and they leave ruben and stevie with you so you guys are basically a little family doing fun shit

skating around town, going to the public pool, chilling inside gas stations, renting movies, trauma dumping etc

you're literally just ruben and stevies parents

the ultimate comedy group too 💀

shit, you, fourth, fuckshit and ray are actually way too funny when you're super drunk/high at parties

like you'll be in your own corner watching over ruben and stevie playing uno and start talking about testicul bombs and radioactive cum??? (based on a true story)

alr that's all I got I hope u enjoyed LOL

[astral-gamma]

PLEASE DO your sfw and nsfw headcanons on nikolai... we're starving out here w no content of him 🙏🙏

ℕ𝕚𝕜𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕚 𝔾𝕠𝕘𝕠𝕝 𝕊𝔽𝕎 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

!! NOT SAFE FOR WORK UNDER CUT !! Note: heyoo i finally managed to have some freetime, between studying and(soon) a lil partime job,to work on requests ^^; ₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

SFW

❥Safe to say that he annoys the shit out of you but bc he absolutely ADORES you

❥When you both are home together he he clings to you like children would, killing you with love and affection

❥it will happen,even if rarely, that his facade will drop and reveal “his true self” if it does happen its bc he trusts you, deeply,he wants to be appreciated and reminded that he is loved not only with words but with your soft touches

❥loves pranking you and scaring you with his ability like moving your things,picking at your skin when you're busy 

❥buy bare with him,he just loves you soooo much and has this NEED of touching you in anyway possible and stay as close to you as possible

❥I think that his favorite type of date is going to an amusement Park and have a day of pure fun and adrenaline or a simple day off chilling out with a picnic consisting on simple things you two cooked together 

NSFW

❥he’s mostly a top (like 99% of the times)

❥let’s start with something calm but effective: he NEEDS to leave marks on you(mostly bites and hickeys) How can you blame him he has to show others that you belong to him

❥man,he’s impatient he just needs to destroy you^^

❥He is very touchy,can't stay a second without his hands being on your body and mostly near your inviting crotch~

❥bitch is a tease,he's gonna make fun of you for how flustered you get when he kisses your private areas or plunges into you:

“Awww,aren't you a cute one?~

All flustered for me, because im the only one who can make you break like this “ ❥you can’t say that this bitch doesn't have a knife kink, please look at him… he would love keeping you restrained by ropes and with one hand roaming way too up your thighs while the other keeps a steady grip on a sharp knife that is dancing on your skin and if you misbehave he will let it cut your precious skin and letting crimson drops flow down your body; but this is the same men that would melt if you’d do the same to him, like you getting him to behave and punishing him by leaving some scars?!??! YESSIR

❥overstimulation king: “y-you can keep going can't you?” “i wanna st-stay like this forever” are common things he says every time

❥wanna be rewarded with some head, the feeling is addicting…when you start by kissing his tip and kissing it down and then slowly taking it all ….GOD 

❥his dick so deep inside you that you can see the cute bulge,his fingers tracing its outline and getting even more excited

❥jealous sex? YESSIR

❥He starts getting annoyed by people (that are not close friends of yours) being too touchy and/or you being touchy and too close

❥He gets “kinda mad” just a little bit ^_^;

❥so little that as soon as you get home he grabs you and slams you against the first available surface

[numbuh24insane]

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization

Restoration HQ

The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.

Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.

Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.

"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."

Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."

"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."

“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”

"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."

"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."

Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."

"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there’s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."

Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."

Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."

Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.

The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.

"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.

"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."

A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.

Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”

He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.

Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”

Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”

Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”

Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”

The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”

As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.

“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.

Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.

The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.

"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"

Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.

Anything but this.

"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."

"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."

Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.

The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"

Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.

He hated this.

This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.

Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.

Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.

Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?

Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.

“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.

“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.

The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."

The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.

"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."

Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”

Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.

The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.

Belle shuddered.

Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.

"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."

Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."

"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."

Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."

Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"

Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."

Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.

Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.

"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.

Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"

Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."

"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."

Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”

Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”

Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.

Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”

Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”

Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.

Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”

Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”

Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”

Eggman Land

Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.

The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.

As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.

It was Agent Stone.

One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.

Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”

Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”

Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”

Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.

Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”

“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”

Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.

He let out a smirk.

“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.

Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”

“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”

Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”

Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”

Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.

KOOPA KINGDOM

The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.

He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.

He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.

“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.

“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.

He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.

“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.

What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.

It was over.

Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.

But here it was.

Broken.

Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.

Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.

For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”

Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”

He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”

Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”

Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”

He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.

“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”

With that he sped away.

[alextydaisuda123]

Pepperman PT + MLP Creepypasta [WARNING!: Lots of text] Let's admit honestly that MLP Creepypasta has already become a separate fandom, existing separately from MLP itself, whose stories are one better than the other. I've had an image of Pepperman in the role of "Lil Miss Rarity" in my head for a long time. Why her? Well, explanations in the studio! 👏 1. There is something in common between the characters of both, and both are creative natures and love themselves; 2. Both have cats (this is not a reason, but just a fact); 3. I can imagine Pepperman as the same sado-masochist, but in his "role"; 4. Let's admit that Pepperman can be a "Daddy" too 🌚✨️ 5. Lil Miss Rarity used to be one of my favorite creepypastas (which I only knew a quarter of, it turns out, because the rest of the story was shrouded in darkness for me for many years, and... I just didn't understand the rest of the events when I learned the rest of the story, so for me only a part of it exists and that's enough for me). Well, if I explain the image, then... I took from the original Lil Miss Rarity only scars with scratches and a black eye. As for the brand, sorry, but I removed it, because there is nowhere to put it on Pepperman, but the question is, would he have made it as a "sign of devoted and mutual love of fans and himself", the answer is "yes", damn it!>:) For some reason I wanted to remove his shoes and gloves, exposing his paws and hands, replacing them with something else (I don't know what it is, like... the remains of his shoes and gloves? I have no idea how to explain this😐), like for the sake of convenience and "beauty". As for the doll, I'll go into a little more detail about it, because I slightly changed the events in the story, if Pepperman were like Rarity. I'll start with the fact that the wounds were not left by his kitten Chili (because he, logically, is a kitten, not aggressive and physically cannot scratch him), but by Noise, who ruined his paintings and statues once again. During the fight, Phil got injured and he killed Noise, and in fear and panic, in order to cover his tracks, he made a doll of Noisette because of Noise's connection with her (now Noisette's phrase: "You will always be in my heart" played with irony, lol) and placed his heart there, hid the remains (he does not remember where), and disguised the blood as paint (which he later drew with due to carelessness, but from there came the pleasure of drawing with this, and then a tendency to cruelty). Don't ask what I smoked to come up with this, I just wanted to speculate on this topic, to bring his image to at least some logic. And finally, I made the style of the drawing almost like from the comic about Lil Miss Rarity herself. I thought it was appropriate here. Yes, I didn't color Pepperman himself, he was originally in b/w, but I colored him in digital format, just to show the approximate shades of his palette as a whole. Is this necessary at all? 🤔 No, but if someone was still interested in finding out, here it is. And while I was drawing, I listened to 2 songs dedicated to this creepypasta (and I took the phrase written next to it from the song and replaced the word "mommy" with "daddy". So yes, now we have a cruel, but "loving" daddy😏.

Color version:

[shazzbaa]

Sketches of some of my friends' FLondons hanging out with Samuel....

Atropos, the Typical Composer belongs to @frost-mothit and is a totally typical individual with no strange qualities at all. While Sam's hedonist was getting out of control from a laudanum addiction and,,,,, relations with the Provost, Moth started making "WOW SAM IS FINALLY COOL" comments and i just kept thinking abt how much this would distress sam LMAO

Mal, the Resolute Hunter belongs to @inkcryptid -- Sam's monster-hunter buddy!! She has a lot in common w/ him BUT unlike Samuel she's actually cool. Anyway we were joking about Mal getting Sam's help with crates that she "doesn't trust Lettice with" so that probably means they're full of explosive right, obviously.

Dr. Quilliam Sabethes, the Verdigris Surgeon belongs to @ollietreetime, a perhaps-too-cheerful doctor who is always excited to observe scars and the healing process, and Samuel is obviously a great source of that!! Normal fun activities to do with friends include undressing so your doctor friend can get a good look at the weird clay surgery you got