#heavy is the cross to bear

[respectthepetty]

Gosh I’m so curious about your insight into why Juyeong removed his cross again in episode 6 and how Dohoe noticed it and became upset. I am so confused

IT'S ABOUT GOD!

Okay, gather 'round, you heathens (affectionately)! Let me school you in religious righteousness and shame.

Although I questioned if what Ju Yeong wore was a cross,

If it is a cross, Ju Yeong took it off BEFORE he confessed to Do Hoe.

He was using that moment to confess not only his love for Do Hoe, but also his sin.

So now, act like you were raised in a super religious family and truly believe that Jesus Christ is your Lord and savior who died horribly on the cross, so YOU could get into heaven one day.

That's right! God sacrificed his only son, so YOU wouldn't have to go to hell.

It's a heavy cross to bear, the weight of knowing someone died for your sins. Someone scarified their child, so you could have eternal happiness. God condemned his only son to be executed for you.

However, the catch is that you cannot sin in order to get into heaven.

You have to obey your parents.

You can't commit murder.

You can't idolize anyone above God for there is only one God, and he willingly allowed his son to be killed FOR YOU!

Oh, and you cannot lie because that's a slippy slope to hell.

So, once again, imagine you are that boy who wears a cross necklace and truly believes you will go to hell for your sins, so when you confess to the boy you like, you take off the necklace, because God should not bear witness to this offense.

But then, you sacrifice your body for that boy to be happy. You also take care of that boy's father to make up for the sin. You become the prodigal son, so the boy you like can live in eternal happiness even if it's without you.

And you keep wearing the cross, so God is with you in all you do and He will see the good in your heart.

God is with you always, in everything you do because the necklace is always on as a reminder of the one time you liked a boy and almost sent both of you to an earthly and eternal hell.

But the thing is, we know Ju Yeong takes the necklace off, and so does Do Hoe.

So how must that feel to Do Hoe to know that Ju Yeong removes his necklace when he is with him? How must that come across? Probably as if Ju Yeong carries shame about Do Hoe, or specifically about their relationship with each other and that Ju Yeong does not see what is between them as godly, but rather sinful, shameful, and even more, wrong.

When Do Hoe told the truth about the night of the incident, he looked at Ju Yeong's neck.

And it could come across as sexual, like he wants to kiss or touch Ju Yeong after such a brutally honest moment or when it's snowing, but in the context of the argument, that is an odd time to fantasize about wanting someone in such a sexual way.

But it's because Do Hoe is looking for the necklace. And it's there.

Ju Yeong had it on the first time he kissed Do Hoe, but he didn't wear it when they kissed in the van nor during their first time, so Do Hoe is checking to see if it's okay to kiss him now, with the necklace on.

Because if the necklace is off, he knows Ju Yeong will allow himself to be selfish, abandon God, and accept the sin.

But that has to be a fucking awful feeling, no?

To believe that you, a person who probably lied about your schooling and now sit in a fancy apartment with your nice car and cushy job because of that lie, are in love with a man who is so morally righteous that even your relationship with him is so sinful that he has to take off his cross and forsake God to be near you.

Once again, Ju Yeong could not be wearing a cross, but imagine being a liar in love with a saint.

Hell, I'd hate myself too.

@heretherebedork, @benkaben, @chicademartinica, @anxiouswannabe90skid

[mike----wazowski]

me when kiryu talks to daigo

[tartintart]

Saw this thing & decided to give it a shot.

[kienansidhe]

i desperately need more ppl to sexualize altar servers what do you MEAN there are no cheap costumes in existence what do you MEAN if i wanna dress up as an altar server for sexy heresy reasons i have to either 1) pay the Bigotry Club for the real thing (unacceptable), or 2) make my own damn costume??? homophobia. oppression. i have the hardest life in the world btw

[sarcoptid]

I'd like to see a paranormal investigation where they don't turn all the lights out in the house. Would I do that? No, duh, it'dbe less spooky. But someone should, because we all know it's totally unnecessary to be shuffling around in the dark just to take some voice recordings

[bulletblessed]

tags

[ryuseitai]

i just dug around in my closet for so long i feel like i was in the mines. didnt even find hamtaro

[gambitandrogues]

so much gender stored in the leather bomber jacket

[mmescarlette]

Favorite Books Read in January 2023

Since I thought it might be fun to turn this blog into a space to talk about books I've read, here's a roundup of books I particularly liked this month! There may be spoilers for each so feel free to skip between the titles if you like.

The Heir and the Spare - Kate Stradling (personal rating: 4/5)

This was, in fact, the very first book I read this year, a straggler that I started on NYE but put aside so I could read it more at my leisure after my previous challenge was fulfilled, and I'm so glad I did! I SNAPPED this book up. I can't tell you a great deal of what it's about because I kind of liked going into it essentially blind, actually, but it is not a retelling (I somehow thought it was a Prince and the Pauper retelling which it clearly is not but I think that was purely based on the title and not, you know, facts) and it's at my perfect intersection of fantasy, which is the kind of low-stakes sword-and-sorcery tales that I generally tend to write myself.

I believe what I enjoyed and got out of this book most was that it forced me to confront my own relationship with suffering, much like Thorn did two years ago; tw for the main character going through some fairly intense emotional abuse, but for me as a reader, I found it more cathartic and able to make me understand myself more closely, and thus well worth the read for me in particular. I also LOVED the choice to have a second lead who is essentially antagonistic from the start, much in the vein of QoA which I am always weak for. I would say this is low on themes, but high on character work, so if you're looking for an introspective read this is a lovely choice!

The Stolen Heir - Holly Black (personal rating: 4.5/5)

Holly basically OWNS me at this point. There's a high likelihood just based on this book alone that this duology will capture me in its clutches even MORE than Folk of the Air could, simply based on the fact that I love the two leads (and Wren in particular) like there's no tomorrow. For one thing, I think it's such an interesting and quite frankly beautiful and touching change to have both the leads be so downright kind people to their core, as opposed to the chaos gremlins (affectionate) of the previous trilogy. But for another thing, the particular theme that my dash is sucking me into loving this year is that of shared history of love of all along between people, and I looove that is very present here! FotA was very much about learning to love but I'm pretty badly invested in how much this story leans on how to trust even when the love was already there.

The reality also of Wren being this bleeding heart being who will undo bonds and chains and ties simply because it's the right thing to do is something that makes me feel insane! Everything about Oak coming from a family he can never abandon or leave behind because he cherishes them so deeply makes me sob! The entire theme that lingers from it all being "I have never had the true luxury of being free in any way that matters to me so I have the compulsion to save every person I possibly can even if it is at great personal cost" is something that can be so personal and dear to me and I LOVE it so much.

(Also I had a great time wailing at Wren every time she talks about Jude to be like "JUDE WAS SORRY FOR YOU WREEEN SHE FREED YOU ON PURPOSE BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING BOUND EITHER" and whilst I have no doubt there will be angry Jude in the next book I love that there's this tie of fae-nurtured human and raised-by-humans fae between the protagonist of both the series! There's so much richness of kindness in that dichotomy and I'm so intrigued about where she'll take it.)

Thirst - Mary Oliver (personal rating: 5/5)

I'm always on the hunt for more Mary books to read, and this one is a stirringly beautiful example of her work. Very few things have made me cry like the titular poem does.

Part of the reason why I glommed onto this book so much is because, at its heart, it is a book about grief; from what I can tell, this was Mary's first book she wrote after the death of her partner, and because of that it is so deeply infused through and through with love and light and sorrow and tenderness that it seems almost impossible that I, at least, could not love it. But perhaps more than anything, the reason why it struck me so much is because it filled me with that which I am most on the search for in my life right now, wonder.

Mary's work makes me see the stars, the sun and the moon and the sky, all whilst I'm tucked away in my house, in my reading chair at one in the morning without moving a muscle. It makes me glad to live, but more than that it gives me reason to live, that most tricky part of staying alive and being glad for it. She always finds a way to lead me back to the emotion I am best at and struggle most with, that of gratitude of being here and being well with what I am given, that even when the tossing and turning of life tears at my soul I can always say a prayer in thanks for it and find my way back to something simple and still and true, and that-- is always worth the effort for me.

And while that is me talking about her work at large, I will simply say, this book made me see the stars at night and the rosebuds in late spring and the shadows of the geese making their way across the fragile sky, and for that alone I love it dearly. Also The Messenger is only the poem I have in full pasted on my wall which to me is the biggest peer-review test of all.

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel (personal rating: 4/5)

A read that I embarked on because a dearly loved friend (hi Lu!!) adores this book, so I wanted to take a peek because the themes appealed to me. I'm a big lover of post-apocalyptic media that focuses in on what relationships look like between people in the aftermath and how often it is love, in the end. While this is not my favorite example of that particular genre, it is an extremely competent entry, and a good introduction if you're never dipped into the genre before.

Beautiful, dark, and luminous, Station Eleven is what I would call a slow amble through the book's contents. It neither tumbles you along with the impetus of its own story and pace (as a YA book does), nor does it urge you forward with the hastening steps of its plot that grow louder and louder over time (as speculative fiction often wants to do) but it is quiet, self-contained and self-possessed. From what I can gather, this is the kind of book that either resonates with you deeply, or doesn't whatsoever, but for me in particular I found it scattered with such moments of gentle beauty that made me have to close my eyes and hold them close to myself that I found it worth the read, despite the fact that it is also littered with enough violence and sorrow that it's not truly as comforting as I had expected it to be.

In its heart, this book is very simply about a girl who is part of a wandering troupe of actors in the world after an apocalyptic event whose life is shown in tandem and parallel to an actor who she worked with as a child; but it is also deeply about kindness, friendship, love and loss and the search for beauty when the surface of the earth has been so ravaged that it seems almost impossible that it could still be there. More than anything, Station Eleven is a book about care-- it's about Kirsten's care for her work, for her friends and the rare moments of beauty she carries about, it's about what goodness we can save and spare when all else is lost, it's about me weeping over the joy of electricity casting its light on the sky when that seems impossible. The longer I sit with it, the more I can find to love in it, because what lingers from this story is the love that stays within it through and through.

[mifithemuffin]

wrote an entire outline of a fic idea set in time period i have zero knowledge of

[nonhumen]

i stare right into the fucking camera

[lesbicastagna]

i really want to watch more funger (can't play cause im a terminal noob at videogames like you think bad. i'm worse) but also its the kind of thing where looking up a random guy talking about it sounds like a torture from hell. so

[forest-rusalka]

I was born to be the loser of the family

[justatypicalwizard]

Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut

It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.

This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.

Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.

The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.

It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.

So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?

I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.

I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.

I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.

I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.

I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.

I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.

“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”

You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.

“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”

With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.

“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”

He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.

A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.

You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.

Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.

“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.

“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.

There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.

You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.

“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”

“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.

“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.

“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.

You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”

“And you told me I can eat your ass.”

“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.

He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.

“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.

It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.

Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-

No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.

So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.

Tell me to stop and I will.

And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.

“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.

His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.

“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.

“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.

It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.

Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.

At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.

He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.

“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.

The sound of the faucet reached your ears.

“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.

The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.

You felt a hard push to the back of your head.

“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”

Eh?!

Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?

Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?

The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.

An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.

Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.

“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.

It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.

“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.

Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.

Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.

He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.

The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.

Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.

“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.

“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.

When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.

“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.

“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.

Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.

The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.

You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.

Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.

“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.

“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”

Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

“Just tell me to stop.”

Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.

“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.

It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.

“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.

“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.

You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.

“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”

“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”

Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.

“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.

“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.

“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!

“Of course, anything for you.”

That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.

You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”

But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.

After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.

“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.

“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.

At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.

“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.

“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.

“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.

“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”

[deltarose]

My personal biggest flaw is the fact that I hold on.

I hold on to negative experiences.

I hold on to negative interactions.

I hold on to attachments.

I hold on to grudges.

I allow these things to be part of my spiral. And I spiral more than I’d like to admit. I’m one that won’t let go because of a bad interaction. It takes me hundreds of thousands and even then. It may not be enough to let go of a person, event, or thing. I could get hurt again and again and still hold on.

If there’s one thing that’s been consistent, it is that personal flaw. Things change and grow and that’s okay. But I’ve always had issues letting go. Especially letting go of people. Still, I miss my friend that turned their back because I was unwilling to let go of my relationship. And I still hold on to hope that they’ll come back. They may never come back to me, that’s my weight to bear. I loved spending time with my friends for new years, that’s not happening this year. One left, though I’d still consider her a friend. One moved, one has life.

I’ve never been the one with a lot. So I’ve always held so tightly in the best ways I knew how.

Holding on to so much hurts.

I realize it hurts and would hurt so. So. So. Much less if I’d let go, but atlas. I don’t want to.

The things I hold on to, so many of them brought me so much happiness at some point. Letting go of lots of the things that hurt, would be letting go of so many things that make me so happy.

Anyone that knew me at all knows how hard I hold on to things

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2