#imagine saying a child was forcing herself on another child

[jancysmixtape]

This is why I can’t stand SOME Bylers… trying to say El was FORCING HERSELF onto Mike.. it’s okay to just say you hate the ship, you know!

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats Pt. 4

Aegon Targaryen ii 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, child birth, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra cannot imagine what might cause such commotion in the middle of the night.

“The dragon keepers have just calmed Sunfyre, who’s been having a fit for the better part of three hours.” Daemon informs her.

“Why is this news?” Rhaenyra wonders, “you needed only to wake Prince Aegon so that he might calm his own dragon.”

“That was my intention, your grace.” Daemon assures her, “until it was brought to my attention that Stormborn had been taken from the pit.”

“Where is she now?”

“Her grace’s dragon has since been returned to the pit.”

“Where is my daughter now?” Rhaenyra asks.

The room falls silent, everyone glancing toward one another.

“We believe the princess to be abed.”

“Not one of you thought to make certain?” The Queen all but shouts, panic coursing through her.

“We thought it best not to disturb the princess while she is abed, your grace.” Not without permission from the queen herself…certainly not after the last time.

Prince Aegon was in quite a state, threatening to castrate any member of the royal guard who happened upon his beloved wife in the throes of passion.

“Never you mind, I will see to her myself.” The Queen stalks down to her daughter’s room, pounding at the door.

It is Aegon who answers, “Rhaenyra?”

“I need to see her.”

Aegon hesitates, looking to his wife, who nods her approval. “She’s just there.” He takes a step back, allowing his half sister entry.

Y/N sits upon her bed in a pristine blush sleeping gown, hair still damp from the bath. “Mother.”

“Tell me the truth of it.” Rhaenyra approaches, hovering over her bedside. “Where were you this night?”

“With Aegon.”

Rhaenyra steals herself, “where were you whilst Sunfyre was howling in the pit? I know you took Stormborn, I have it on good authority. Tell me now, Y/N, where did you go?”

“To Harrenhal.”

Rhaenyra blanches, clutching her chest. “Why?” She sobs, “why would you do such a thing, knowing the risk?”

“Mother, I-”

“I have lost two of my children, I will not survive the loss of a third.”

“I have not done this to harm you, mother. But I am tired of being in pain. You’ve no idea how it feels to be tugged at by opposing sides, until you are torn down the middle.”

“Sweet girl,” Rhaenyra sighs.

“I understand why you needed Aegon and I to marry. I do not fault you for it, but times are different now. I love him, mother. Not for the crown, or the realm, or even peace. He is one half of me.”

“I wish you’d come to me, instead of facing all these troubles alone. I will always be your mother, no matter if you are a woman grown, you will not outgrow my love for you so long as I live.”

Y/N nods. “I love you dearly, mother. I want only to make you proud.”

“I am proud.” Rhaenyra assures her, “you needn’t prove yourself to me.”

“Then might I ask you to set a place for my husband at your table? Say it is not too late.”

“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra asks, mulling it over.

“He is gone.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” Y/N whispers.

“Show me.”

Y/N lifts her nightgown to reveal the charred skin of her wound.

“Alright,” Rhaenyra lowers the material once she’s gotten a good look. She kisses the top of her daughter’s head, “we will have the maester come with salve to dress it.”

Y/N nods.

“Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“Milk of the poppy.”

Rhaenyra’s hand is trembling as it passes over her daughter’s hair a second time. “Aegon, might you bring the maester?”

“Of course,” he nods. Stealing himself before wandering down the hall and away from his beloved wife. Returning with the maester, who begins tending the wound immediately.

“Is there anything else I might get you?” Rhaenyra asks, keeping hold of her daughter’s hand.

Y/N is mostly joking when she murmurs to her mother, “cake?”

Rhaenyra smiles, “I will see to it.”

Y/N relaxes as best she can to the poking and prodding.

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra nods toward the hall, “a word?”

“Of course,” Aegon follows her out.

“I owe you a debt, for taking care of my daughter. Y/N is the world to me, as she is to you.” Rhaenyra says. “Know that as I walk this path to reclaim the throne, we do so hand in hand. We are one house, as our father so willed it.”

Aegon nods, “thank you.”

————————————————————————

Years ago, after the council meeting where Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agreed to the terms of their children’s betrothal; King Viserys himself called for Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N in his quarters.

It is put plainly before them, what is expected. What this union is meant to do; ease the strain between their two families.

“Stand together.” The king insists.

Y/N and Aegon inch toward each other.

“This will be expected of you from now on. You are betrothed, you will act as such.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, grandsire.”

At dinners they sit together, during shared lessons, anytime they are in the same room.

Stand together.

The princess continues her training alongside Helaena while her brothers and her betrothed argue regularly. The boys only find common ground when teasing Aemond for not having a dragon.

Queen Alicent appreciates these childish games least of all and raises her concerns with the King.

It is Y/N, having the least to do with any of it, who is summoned by her grandsire and his wife.

“Come sit, darling girl.” Viserys smiles, guiding Y/N over to his model of Old Valyria.

She nods, “thank you, your grace.”

“How are you enjoying your studies?”

“Very well,” Y/N tells him.

“I am glad to hear it. Even the septa has nothing but good things to say. You will make a fine queen, my girl.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “It pleases me to hear you say this, Grandsire. I wish only to make you proud.”

Viserys takes her hand, “surely you understand that you are a reflection of your mother and myself, in your actions and your words.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N squeezes his fingers.

“The time has come for you to consider those whose actions reflect on you.”

“I do not understand.”

“He is referring to your brothers, who wreak havoc on the whole of us.” Alicent chimes in.

“Oh, Alicent.” Viserys waves her away, “they are boys yet. I meant our Aegon.”

“Aegon?” Alicent scoffs, “those are the actions that trouble you?”

“He will soon be a man grown and future king consort. If he is to marry my granddaughter, he must act with dignity and grace.”

“Do you not see the true issue, your grace?” Alicent demands.

“You asked me to speak with Rhaenyra’s children,” Viserys reminds her, “is this not Rhaenyra’s child?”

Alicent locks eyes with Y/N, she is so young, so eager to please her family. “This child is not the issue.”

“You are correct, dear wife.” The king grins, “she is the solution. Y/N, you will go to Aegon, say what you must to light a fire beneath him. So that he too might behave in a manor befitting his station. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Good,” Viserys releases her, “go now.”

Y/N stands, making her way to the door.

“See how easy that was?” Viserys turns to his wife, now standing with her back to him.

Y/N has some trouble locating the Prince, eventually she happens upon him on the stairs. “Prince Aegon,” she calls his attention.

The boy rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, my betrothed.”

“Might you walk with me to the gardens?”

“Do I have any choice?”

Y/N smirks, with a shake of her head. “No.”

“By all means, lead the way.” Aegon waves a hand, following her like an animal on a chain.

“The king and I had a rather illuminating conversation earlier.”

“And what did you discuss? How elated he is to seat you, a bastard, on the iron throne over me, his first born son?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“No, though I am sure he will be ‘elated’ to hear that his first born son called me a bastard, in the middle of the garden, for everyone to hear.”

Aegon clears his throat, “I would not say it in front of anyone.”

"This place is crawling with vermin, their eyes and ears are upon us at all times."

"You mean to tell me we have rats?"

"Not everything can be taken so literally, my prince."

Aegon stares through her, every word going over his pretty blonde head.

"Look, there's your father now." Y/N points, "watching us from his balcony."

Aegon whips around, spotting the king.

"Smile and wave, let him believe we are having a grand time."

Aegon does as he's told, earning a nod from Viserys. "Are we not?"

True to his word, Aegon does not call her a bastard again, to her face or behind her back. When Aemond’s eye is lost, the truth of it comes out.

Y/N and Aegon begin moving closer, behind Aemond’s chair. Stand together. Perpetually closing the space between their two houses.

When Alicent scolds Aegon for not protecting his brother, Y/N is near enough to receive a second hand lashing by her tongue. And when his mother’s palm meets his cheek, in a stinging slap, his hair brushes Y/N’s skin.

“What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.”

“The legitimacy of my children’s births were called loudly to question.” Rhaenyra informs the king. “Vile insults were levied against them.”

“What insults?” Viserys sneers.

“He called us bastards.” Jacaerys says.

“Where did you hear such things, boy?” The king demands of the injured prince.

Aemond is quiet then, not willing to tell the truth. He first heard it from his mother, long before his brother. But Aegon has said it, many a time, before he abruptly stopped. “It was Aegon.”

Viserys rounds the chair, to confront his eldest son, with his eyes cast downward.

By the gods, let this humiliation end swiftly.

“Aegon!”

Stand together.

Y/N must not abandon her post.

“Yes, father.”

“Is this true?”

“It is.” Aegon admits, “and I am sorry for it. I am the elder, I should not have poisoned Aemond’s mind with such hatred. Especially as…these allegations are untrue. It was my mistake, forgive me.”

King Viserys takes a step back, “the next tongue to question the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra’s children will be removed.”

Y/N lets out a shuttering breath, catching her grandsire’s attention.

He offers her a reassuring smile, after threatening to cut out his children’s tongues. It feels wrong to be treated so differently, standing inches apart.

When the preceding is at an end, and Rhaenyra’s blood has been split, Y/N goes to find Aegon. He is tucked in against the grand archway, drowning in cups. "I brought you more wine."

Aegon eyes her warily, accepting the glass, “and what do you want?"

"May I sit with you?"

"If you wish."

Y/N takes a seat on the cool, stone floor beside him. "Thank you, for saying what you did.”

"My mother did not appreciate it."

Y/N hesitates, "I know it is not my place, but I do not like when she strikes you. Perhaps I could discuss it with your father?”

"My father? Who loves me least of all his children?" Aegon shakes his head. "A lot of good that would do.”

"They should not treat you that way."

“You care for me," he realizes. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

"Should I not?”

"I would not know how to care for you in return."

"You defended me, in front of both our families.” Y/N challenges. “If that is not caring for me, I don't know what is."

Aegon feels the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and he does not pull away.

"I am sorry for what happened to Aemond. I hope he finds peace and swift healing."

"If it were either of your brothers who’d been maimed, my father would pluck out Aemond’s eye himself and present it to Rhaenyra on a platter. There is no peace in that.”

Aegon becomes fiercely protective of his brother after that.

Y/N does not fault him for it.

The debacle of Driftmark sets their nuptials back several years. The blacks and greens remain in negotiation until Aegon is twenty and one and Y/N is ten and eight. At which point, Viserys proclaims they must either marry before the moon turns, or end the engagement to free both their hands for marriage.

Reluctantly, they are bound before the eyes of thousands.

Stand together.

They recite traditional Valyrian vows, sealing their covenant in blood. Sharing a dance or two before being whisked away to consummate said marriage, as other members of the wedding party drink merrily in the grand hall.

————————————————————————-

“Are they gone?” Y/N asks, toying anxiously with her wedding ring.

“They have strict orders,” Aegon sighs, “the appointed members of council cannot leave until they’ve heard a proper consummation.” He climbs into bed with her, both fully dressed in their marriage attire.

“We best get to it then.” Y/N begins plucking pins from her hair. The tapestry of braids falling free.

“Unless you’d rather have a bit of fun.”

“How do you mean?”

Aegon grins, “we could pretend.”

“Really?”

“This marriage is ours, no one else’s. When I bed you that will be ours and no one else’s.”

Stand together.

“How would we-”

Aegon rises up on his knees, gripping the headboard. “I will do the heavy lifting. Just lie back and think of the crown.”

Y/N covers her face with both hands as he begins thrusting at the air. The springs beneath them groan and crackle.

Aegon peeks down at her to find a smile painted across her lips, despite her shielded eyes. “Let them hear you, sweetheart. Make it believable.”

Y/N nods, releasing a sound she imagines a person might make while exchanging intimacies.

“Not like that.” Aegon chuckles, “they’ll think I’m murdering you.”

“I do not know how.”

“Have you never touched yourself?” He breathes.

“Never.”

Gods, he’s going to enjoy her. “That’s alright,” he continues his movements to jostle the mattress. “Just do as I do.” Aegon lets his mouth fall open, releasing a low moan.

The sound that escapes Y/N in return is not entirely forced. It makes her belly burn with desire.

They continue on like this for a while before Aegon murmurs, “big finish.”

“So quickly?” Y/N’s brow furrows.

Aegon’s eyes flicker about her, “I can’t imagine it will take long.”

As the grand finale comes to a close, Aegon makes for his dagger. Slicing his finger at the tip and allowing blood to pool before dragging the crimson stain across the bed sheet. He strips it from the bed, walking it to the door. “Deliver this to her majesty the Queen. I know she is impatiently waiting.”

Y/N begins pacing, beside the bed.

“They are gone. We are alone.”

She nods, “thank you, Aegon. For all of it.”

————————————————————————-

When Aegon does eventually bed her, it is well worth the wait.

“By the gods, that is not going to fit inside me.”

Aegon huffs a laugh, “I promise it will, darling girl. We must prepare you first.”

“How,” Y/N squeals.

He hushes her, lying open mouthed kisses across her collarbones.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not if I can help it.” He plans to burying his face between her thighs and bring her to the heavens. But the sweet little thing wants only to be held, kissed. Aegon lies beside her, one hand stroking her dark hair, the other moving down to her breasts, kneading them gently.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes.

“As are you.” She pants, moving her lips against his.

Aegon chuckles, “flattery will get you places.” He rolls her nipple between his fingers, flicking over it with the pad of his thumb.

Her hips rise of their own accord, grinding herself against his entwined leg.

“Slowly, my darling.”

Y/N nods, kissing him again to distract herself from the building ache between her legs.

Feather light caresses trail down to her sex, collecting a bit of wetness and slipping a finger into her heat. Pumping slowly, getting her used to the sensation.

“That feels nice.” She breathes, tugging at his hair.

Aegon smiles, “can you take another?”

“Yes.”

Aegon adds a second digit, working her open, pushing a bit deeper to her sweet spot. His fingers curl against it, relishing her little gasps. The princess is close now.

“Ahh,” she grasps his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

“I-”

“Don’t cry.” By the seven, she is gripping his fingers like a vise.

“I cannot help it.” Her thighs tremble in earnest now.

“That is your peak, darling girl. You’re alright, I promise.” He continues stroking, pressing the base of his hand flush with her swollen pearl, applying gentle pressure until she finds bliss. He pets at her hair as she cries out. “Good girl,” he coos, working her through the crest and bringing her back down.

“That was heavenly,” she sighs, steadying her breathing.

You are heavenly.

“Might we do it again?”

Aegon chuckles, “as many times as you’d like.”

————————————————————————

In the early days of their marriage, Aegon realizes that his wife has a nasty habit of bedding him and waiting until he finds sleep to sneak off. Holding after hours council with her mother.

The practice itself does not upset him, but this night, her absence is especially troubling, as they have been drinking since dinner. His sweet wife is not well versed in wine drinking. She laughed so hard she cried and then rode him to kingdom come.

Aegon tosses back the covers, pulling on his clothes and moving quickly through the halls of the keep. He rounds the nearest corridor, colliding with his wife, running at full speed. “Sweetheart?”

“I was looking for you,” Y/N smiles.

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I could not find sleep so I went to the maester to ask for a draft.”

“Then you’ve been to the maester?” Aegon holds her at arms length, searching for any sign of harm.

“I was on my way to the maester when I happened across one of the groundskeeper’s wives and we got to talking.” Y/N admits, with a hiccuping laugh.

“What could you possibly be talking about for over an hour?”

“Just about everything, she is a lovely woman.” Y/N tells him.

Aegon nods, with a patient smile.

“I might have stayed longer, but it came up in conversation…all the ways a woman might please her husband. And I could not wait to tell you.”

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

“The smallfolk share things in the marriage bed I’ve never even heard of.” Y/N muses. “She told me that, on occasion, she puts his cock between her breasts and he-”

“Who is this woman, my darling? Did you get a name?”

“I do not remember her name. I’ve been drinking.”

“I’m well aware,” Aegon’s face softens. “Next time you cannot find sleep, wake me instead.”

Y/N nods.

“In return, I will teach you all the things a husband and wife might do together. I will even demonstrate, should you find it necessary.”

“Oh, could you?” Y/N grabs for his hands, in excitement.

Aegon sighs, “you will be the death of me.”

She leaves him little notes each time after, when she must go to attend her family.

‘My dearest Aegon, I will return soon. I could not stand to wake you from such a peaceful slumber. Worry not, I will always return to you.’

And she does, after council meetings and late nights with her mother. She always returns.

————————————————————————

After a particularly long week, Aegon avoids Y/N purposely. Attempting to clear the room when he finds her there.

“Have I done something?” Y/N stops him.

Aegon shakes his head, “it has been a long day. I do not wish to burden you.”

“When you are upset you may come to me.”

Aegon fights the urge to pull away, to ignore her until she leaves.

“I will hold you.” It isn’t much, but it is all she knows. The way her mother comforts her.

Aegon says nothing, sitting down to bury his head in his hands.

Y/N sighs, winding her arms around his shoulders, feeling them begin to shake.

He reaches for her slowly, as if such comfort might burn him, or she would simply bat his hand away. She doesn’t of course, she allows him to bring her closer, now seated in his lap.

The princess says not a word as her husband works himself free of his breeches. Taking her small clothes and skirt aside.

“It helps,” he tells her. “You help.”

He goes to her then, when the day is long. When there is news to share, on occasion, just to say hello. He goes to her because he can.

————————————————————————-

During dinners at the Red Keep they whisper secrets and share hushed laughter. When he grows tired of that, Aegon’s fingers toy with her pretty little cunt beneath the table, to watch her squirm.

“I love you.” He confesses, meeting her gaze as she turns to him at the height of her pleasure.

Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek, holding perfectly still as Aegon works her through her peak. Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them clean on the fabric of her skirts. “I love you.”

No one is the wiser. Save for Otto, who knows all; or rather likes to believe he does.

Gone is any hope that the blacks or greens might use their influence to sway the tides from one side to another. Y/N and Aegon belong to each other now, a danger in its own right.

News of the princess’s pregnancy sparks a joyous celebration throughout the realm, only to be outshone by news of the birth. Two perfect little girls. Twins, named Dahlia and Visera, respectively.

“They are perfect, my dearest love.” Aegon marvels when they are placed in his arms.

Y/N nods.

“Are you well?” He asks, swaying from side to side.

Whether from weariness or the question itself, Y/N bursts in to tears.

Aegon carefully gives his daughters over to the maids. Climbing onto the freshly dressed bed with Y/N to hold her, stroking dark locks. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“It was awful,” Y/N sobs, clutching at him.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Everyone was barking commands at me, trying to rush the babe out, even worse with the second and my mother was the one person speaking against it.”

“Oh, my darling girl.” He sighs.

“I was tired and frightened…and the pain is unimaginable. I do not wish to do it again.”

Aegon sways her gently, “I am so terribly sorry.”

“You are the only person I wanted and I could not h-have you.”

“We will deliver the next just the two of us, if it pleases you.” Aegon promises.

“Your mother will never allow that.”

“She will not know.” Aegon kisses her cheek.

Y/N pulls back just enough to see him. “If you’re certain.”

“I am. Calm yourself now, my only love. This is a day of happiness.” Aegon dries her tears, “I should like to soak up every moment here, with the three of you.”

Y/N nods, “I would like that very much.”

At the prince’s request, Visera and Dahlia are returned to them.

Aegon takes his second born, tracing the soft lines of her little face, committing them to memory. “Papa loves you.”

Y/N grins at the sight, her own finger clutched in her eldest daughter’s fist.

It comes as a shock to only Alicent when Dahlia Targaryen is named their heir; with her claim upheld by Viserys himself. Aegon does not need a son, his daughters are his legacy.

They attend small council meetings as they grow, with Dahlia seated on her grandsire’s lap.

“Mama,” Visera pounds at the table, drawing attention from the other seats.

“What is it, my darling girl?” Y/N hushes her, hoping to hear their current positions on livestock.

The little girl reaches for the ball again. “Please?”

“What is it she wants?” Aegon asks, from beside his wife, pecking kisses to his daughter’s outstretched hand.

“The ball.” Y/N whispers.

“Ahh,” Aegon smiles, taking his ball in hand and turning it over to Visera. “There we are.”

“You’ll spoil her rotten.”

“Just like her mother, hmm?” Aegon jests, “that is the goal.”

Y/N bites back a grin, passing a hand over her daughter’s light hair.

Their daughters celebrate their third name day before the princess is expecting again.

“There seems to be only one of you in there, I fear.” Aegon whispers to the child in Y/N’s belly, pressing kisses to her skin.

“You fear?” His wife smiles.

“You see, three is an odd number, this child will need a companion.” The prince reasons.

Y/N doesn’t argue, listening to Aegon speak with their unborn babe until she falls asleep.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s term is nearly complete when Aegon finds his wife, holding their wailing daughters in her arms. One on each side of her belly.

“What’s happened?” Aegon asks.

Y/N looks to him, “the girls were playing and Visera closed the door on Dahlia’s finger by mistake. Now they are both inconsolable.”

Aegon reaches for his eldest daughter, “let Papa see, which finger is hurt.”

“My little finger,” Dahlia cries, presenting the red, angry digit.

“That does look terrible painful, my dearest love.” Aegon says, after carefully examination.

“I must have the maester.”

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Aegon presses feather light kisses to her hand. “We need a cold compress is all.”

The maids rush out to fulfill his request.

Dahlia rests her head against her father’s shoulder as she waits, sniffling while he rubs circles into her back.

“See there, darling girl? Your sister is alright.” Y/N gentles Visera, who is feeling incredibly guilty.

“I did not mean to.”

“Of course not, my love.” Aegon says, “twas only an accident.”

The rest of their day is spent playing dolls and Aegon giving pony rides. Which, while ridiculous, does serve as a form of entertainment for Y/N who sits aside to watch.

She may give birth any day now and she feels every bit uncomfortable, still she welcomes Dahlia into her lap as she waits for her turn on Aegon, the noble steed.

“Trot,” Visera orders, with a smile across her face.

“Trot?” Aegon laughs, “shall I do tricks for you as well, your grace?”

Y/N shakes her head, locking eyes with her husband; she mouths a single word, “spoiled.” She kneads the ache in her lower back with her free hand. Ignoring it through supper and long after Dahlia and Visera are asleep.

Aegon notices the way she keeps clutching at it. “Perhaps a warm bath might help.”

“That would be nice,” she croaks out.

“Might it be your labors, darling girl?”

“It is all in my back,” she does not recall hardly any pain in her back, whilst laboring with the twins. “I must have pulled it.”

“The girls are getting bigger, perhaps it’s best if you do not lift them, in this condition.” Aegon kisses her cheek, dashing off to find a maid.

Y/N inhales, closing her eyes to the dull throbbing ache. Even the tub does not help, she climbs back into bed, hoping to sleep it off, but the pain only intensifies.

“This must be more than a muscle.” Aegon whispers, lying behind her. Continuing to knead her hips at her request.

“It is my labors.” My chokes out.

“You’re certain?”

Y/N nods, “my waters just broke.”

Aegon presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Is there anything I might do for you?”

She shakes her head. “Walking will help the babe come down, I must stand.”

Aegon springs from the bed, helping her upright.

“Fuck.” She hisses, beginning to pace their rooms.

Aegon follows, unsure what else to do.

She reaches out for him after a while, when the pain is so great all she wants is an ounce of comfort.

“I’m here.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms as she sways gently from side to side.

Y/N clings to her husband, breathing him in. Focusing her attention on the sweetness of his words, to distract herself from her labors. “I’ll need to push soon.”

“Of course,” Aegon’s done his best to prepare himself. Studying whatever books he could manage, without drawing attention from prying eyes. Highborn ladies do not have children delivered by their husbands.

Queen Alicent will be livid when she finds out, but it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Y/N climbs atop the bed, remaining modestly covered.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, my darling. I’ve seen your cunt a hundred times.” Aegon flips her nightgown up, positioning her legs apart, bent at the knee. “There we are.”

“This is different, surely.” Y/N bares down as her belly contracts.

“Yes and no,” he pats her thigh.

She keeps a firm grip on his hand, crying out despite her best efforts.

“Alright, that’s alright.” Aegon scrambles for something to muffle it. “Might this work?” His belt.

“Yes.” Y/N takes it from him, stuffing the leather strap into her mouth. She is not entirely silent, little whimpers escape, though not enough to alert the guards.

Aegon is patient, kind, whispering words of encouragement. He never rushes her, brushing his hands across her skin. “There you go, my dearest love.” He can see the child’s head now.

Her eyes water, gritting her teeth so tightly they ache.

“Breathe.”

Y/N draws in a breath through her nose, releasing it in a strangled manner, akin to a dying animal.

“Good girl,” Aegon is prepared to catch the infant.

The princess’s head falls back as the child emerges, connected to her by only the afterbirth.

“Slippery little fellow, aren’t you?” Aegon coos, holding his son in his arms.

The infant begins to wail.

“A boy?” Y/N pants, tossing the belt away to catch her breath.

“Yes, my darling girl.” Aegon grins, “how are you?”

There is still pain, there will always be pain, but it is largely outweighed by the image of Aegon holding their son. She bursts into tears, “I am well.”

“Oh dear,” he frowns, carefully maneuvering his newborn son. He lies the infant against her chest, leaning down to comfort her as best he can. “Was it not what you wanted?”

“It was better, my love.” Y/N assures him, counting their babe’s tiny fingers. “I am overjoyed.”

“Overjoyed,” Aegon huffs, clunking his forehead against hers. “Of course that is why you’re crying.”

The maesters come after a while, to be sure that Y/N and the babe are well. After receiving the all clear, they are finally able to rest. Waking early in the morn to present the newest member of their family.

Y/N is tired and sore, even now, lying abed doesn’t suit her. She sits upon a cushion, in a loose fitting gown, tracing the slope of her new babe’s nose. “Are you nearly ready, my love?”

“Nearly,” Aegon remarks. While fastening his breeches he discovers the shapes notched into his belt. He lets out a laugh.

“What is it?” Y/N smiles.

“Look,” he rounds the stool, jutting out his hips.

“Your cock?” The princess arches a brow. “I have seen it.”

“Here, darling girl.” He grins, tracing the outline of her indentations. “From your teeth.”

Her cheeks heat up, “you must take it off.”

“Take it off?” Aegon frowns, “this is a badge of honor. I will wear it day in and day out.”

“You are insufferable,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon pecks a kiss to her parted lips, silencing any protest and setting off to gather the rest of their children.

Y/N dearly misses her mother and brothers in Dragonstone.

————————————————————————

In the months after Laenor’s birth Y/N begins searching for a teacher willing to help her learn a skill most princesses never acquire. Leading her to seekout a man she never has before.

“I want to train by the sword.”

Aemond pauses his sparring practice. “Surely I misunderstand you, dear niece.”

“You are the best, I require a tutor.” Y/N puts it plainly.

“I must be, if you are asking me, of all people.”

“I will admit, you were not my first choice. But Aegon refuses to so much as raise a sword against me and my brothers never cared for knocking me down; where as you will have no qualms about it.”

Aemond smirks, “this is true.”

“I also thought it might be a way for you and I to come together…as family.”

Aemond squares his shoulders, “very well then. Take up your sword.”

The two of them have something in common at long last, until Princess Y/N falls pregnant again, some months later.

Viserys’ condition continues to deteriorate, it is unclear if he will survive to see Y/N and Aegon’s fourth child. As luck would have it, he is lucid when the Prince and Princess present their second son, Prince Aegon, fourth of his name.

“Well done, my girl.” The king manages.

Y/N smiles, “Aegon helped.”

“I should expect so,” Viserys laughs.

“I meant only that he too deserves a job well done.”

Viserys looks to her, as if seeing her for the first time. Then turning to his son he whispers, “well done, my boy.”

Aegon is taken aback, “thank you, father.”

————————————————————————

News of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s injury in the Step Stones brings forth Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to be named his brother’s successor over Lucerys.

This business, however unpleasant, brings Rhaenyra and her children back to King’s Landing.

“We were planning to visit in a few months time, after the babe was born.” Rhaenyra tells her daughter. “But it is always a joy to see you, darling girl.”

Y/N hugs her mother, tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

Rhaenyra strokes a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I have missed you terribly.”

King Viserys musters his last bit of strength to affirm his position for Lucerys and make known that his daughter, Rhaenyra, will always be the true heir to the throne.

They break bread, the blacks and greens together, once the petition is settled. Getting along for a time, until the king is taken back to his chambers to rest. A fight breaks out between Jace, Luce and Aemond, causing Rhaenyra’s untimely departure. She intends to return alone, on dragon back, after the children are settled at home.

Y/N finds sleep that night with a renewed sense of peace, waking to anything but.

Aegon is in an odd state of dress, as if he’s thrown clothes on in the dark. Pacing at the foot of their bed; muttering to himself.

“Aegon?” The princess rubs at her eyes, hoping to make sense of it.

“My father is dead.”

Y/N sucks in a breath.

“My mother and grandsire are gathering the smallfolk for my coronation, in the dragon pit.”

“Why? Alicent herself said that my mother would make a fine Queen only hours ago.”

“In the end it was my name Viserys spoke,” Aegon whispers. “To my mother, on his deathbed.”

Oh no, gods no. Viserys wouldn’t. “What exactly did he say?”

“It matters not, my dearest love. I intend to uphold your mother’s claim.”

“How?” By taking her throne?

“I know you do not trust my family, as well you shouldn’t. You know my heart, you know what I want. They are rushing into this because they know it is wrong. I have pleaded with them, to no avail.” Aegon says. “If it is a performance they demand, so that we might seize the crown to later unfuck this line of succession, it is a performance they will have.”

Y/N nods, pressing a hand to her chest, in a desperate attempt to settle her breathing.

“We’re going to wash you up and dress you in the finest gown the realm has ever seen. Then you are going to stand at my side as they bend the knee, to try it on for size. Think of it as preparation for the day you are crowned our true queen, after your mother has ruled for a great many years.”

Again she nods.

“Are you calm enough now or do you still need me?” Aegon asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

“I need you.”

Stand together.

————————————————————————

In nearly two days time the realm is divided, half of them devoted to Rhaenyra’s claim, the other half to Aegon’s. After Aegon is crowned, Otto Hightower continues to play his hand.

“What are we to do?” Y/N wonders.

“My mother sent Aemond to Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon was easily swayed by the promise of Daeron’s hand for one of his daughters.”

“That is good, is it not? An ally of ours is an ally of my mother’s, in time.”

“There is more,” Aegon admits, wringing his hands.

Y/N laces their fingers together instead, “speak it.”

“I wish so badly that I did not have to tell you.”

“Please, Aegon.” She insists.

“There was an incident.”

Y/N nods, urging him to continue.

“Between Aemond…and your brother Lucerys.”

“What?” Her eyes brim with tears, as though her heart already knows.

“Lucerys was there, delivering a message from your mother. Aemond followed him, on dragon back. I do not think Aemond meant to truly harm him.” Aegon watches the lone drop of moisture cascade over her cheek. “Lucerys is dead.”

The princess’s knees buckle and she falls, with pain in her chest is so great, her lungs cannot expand.

Aegon gentles her to the floor, into his lap as she sobs so violently it shakes the pair of them. There is nothing he can say, and so he holds her, until she has no tears left.

The next weeks drag on quite the same, they pretend for their children, but Y/N struggles.

She sits the small council meeting, listening to news of Rhaenyra’s blockade and its effect on the kingdom.

The doors push open, revealing Aemond.

Y/N nearly churns. Balling her hands so tightly into fists the nails break skin.

“The key to victory is through the Riverlands.” Aemond narrates, “we need to establish a toehold there, at Harrenhal.”

Y/N pushes away from the table, trembling with the force of her rage.

Aegon reaches for her, feeling his heart sink as she backs away, with both arms wrapped around herself. Trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the council. “My darling, I did not invite him here.”

“Tis true,” Aemond confirms, “I am here of my own volition.”

There is that, at least.

“Do you have something to say, my queen?”

Y/N’s back remains to Aemond, and the strategy board, “Prince Aemond is a traitor and a murderer, who deserves to swing in the streets for what he has done. Instead he attends meetings of the small council. It is clear I hold little value to any member of this court. I will not sit here and listen to this depravity.”

“Y/N.” Aegon rises from his seat, shifting between feet, anxiously.

“I am through, my king.”

Aegon recoils as if she’s slapped him.

“Unless you are commanding me to stay,” she replies, with venom in her voice.

“Of course not, my dearest love.”

Y/N exits the double doors, moving down the hall at record speed.

Aegon twirls the council ball between his fingers to settle his racing heart. This was once his father’s seat, where his children would sit, back when all was as it should be. Now his children are not welcome and his wife would sooner abandon ship than remain at his side. “Get out.” He says to his brother.

Aemond sighs.

“Get out!” Aegon slams his fist against the table, “from now on, you will make yourself scarce amongst these halls. If you happen across my wife, you will make haste in the opposite direction, she will not be forced to look upon your face again. Do you understand?”

Aemond bows his head, “as you wish, your grace.”

Y/N retreats to her children’s rooms, finding them empty. They must be in with Helaena’s twins again. She finds the six of them in Jaehaera’s room, playing together while Helaena sews her tapestry.

“How is it coming along?” Y/N asks, taking a seat beside her.

“Quite well.”

“Glad to hear it.” Y/N taps at her wedding ring, “do you find it relaxing? Mayhaps I should take up sewing.”

“I’m afraid.” Helaena says, setting her work aside.

“Of what?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“The rats.”

Y/N nods, hoping to understand. “What is it about them that frightens you?”

Helaena falls silent, a far off look in her eyes.

“I could look into them.” Y/N offers, instead. “The rats.”

Helaena blinks at her. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course. Perhaps with proper knowledge of their ways you need not fear them.”

Helaena smiles, “that would be nice.”

“I will head down to the library then, once the children are abed.”

After their baths, princess Y/N brushes through each of her children’s hair in turn. Her two year old son sits in her lap first. Laenor’s hair has wave to it, like Aegon’s. She twists a bit of it around her finger.

“Mama,” the little boy begins bouncing, impatiently.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“All done,” he tells her.

Y/N huffs a laugh, squeezing him in a hug before releasing him, “off you go then.”

Laenor giggles, bounding away happily.

“Alright, my darling girls, who is next?”

Dahlia looks to Visera, who stares back at her, exclaiming in unison, “I am!” The pair comes charging at her, landing in the small space, side by side.

“My goodness, you have gotten so big.” Y/N groans as she repositions them. Taking turns swiping the bristles through their long, silver, hair before weaving in simple braids, one down each of their backs.

“Where is father?” Dahlia wonders.

Y/N swallows, “performing his duties.”

“What about us?” Visera asks.

“Your father loves you dearly,” Y/N kisses each of their heads. “He wants nothing more than to be with you. Sometimes there are things we must do, for the sake of the crown that require us to be parted from those we love, for a short while.”

The girls nod.

“One day, when you are grown, you will understand. In the meantime, please know that his heart is with you, always. He will never be far.”

Visera and Dahlia turn, holding their mother tight.

“I will see you on the morrow.” Y/N pats their backs, watching them take to their beds.

Her youngest child is brought to her last, wrapped in a silk blanket and wailing at the top of his lungs.

Y/N stands to collect him. “Now, now, my prince, what business do you have causing all that fuss?” Y/N coos at the babe in her arms.

Aegon the fourth quiets instantly, staring up at his mother while kicking his little legs.

“That’s what I thought.” Y/N remarks, sitting down in the arm chair to rock him to sleep. “You are so loved, my darling.” She strokes his dark hair and his tired eyes begin to close, “sweet dreams.”

With the prince safely abed, Y/N leaves the children in the care of their guards and maids, to see what books they might have about rats in the library. The selection is limited, of course, so she decides on a bound copy recounting the great plague. Its pages contain great detail about the little critters and their lives.

She finds herself more engrossed in it than she could have anticipated. The princess hardly hears her husband enter their rooms.

“What story is that now, my dearest love?” He asks, shucking off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.”

Part 5

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (16/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She didn't know if there was a worse humiliation for a man than being forced to fuck his wife in front of other people – on top of that, if he was listening to mockery from his own brother. She didn't know what to do to help him, so she simply covered his ears so that he couldn't hear what Aegon was saying.

He had always been a twat.

He'd been lying with his first for years, surely imagining it was our mother.

Say, cousin, does he cuddle up to your tits too?

Does he suck on your nipples like a little baby?

She knew he was saying it to hurt them both and was furious that he had partly succeeded – she felt pain and discomfort at the thought of her husband returning to the embrace of another woman, the woman he trusted, the woman he desired, the woman he felt safe with.

The realisation that nothing he had experienced with her was new to him filled her with sadness.

She knew, however, that her husband was suffering more now and it was him she should focus on.

She prayed that Aegon's words didn't reach his ears – he was truly focused on his task, preserved in the embrace of her arms, cuddled into her breasts simply pursuing his peak, treating her body like his own hand.

He had to do this, and she begged in her mind for him to simply come, moaning softly, wanting to give him courage and deafen whatever was leaving his brother's mouth.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when he lifted his head, when she saw his gaze full of sadness and regret begging her to comfort him – she took his face in her hands and let their lips melt together in a wonderfully warm, tender kiss.

She sighed loudly when she felt his warm seed finally spill inside her, and he groaned quietly, moving inside her for a moment longer.

It wasn't until everyone had left and they remained alone that he burst out crying like a small child.

She wasn't surprised – she herself had been horrified by how cruel this spectacle had been, and wondered if this was how his brother had treated him all his life.

She finally understood why he hid behind a stony face, why he was cold and aggressive, why he was endlessly anxious to prove his worth – whatever he did, what he suffered in the end was humiliation.

She stroked his body and embraced him, lying behind him on the soft bedding, singing him the lullabies that her nanny used to sing to her when she was still a little child. Her voice must have been to his liking, because eventually he turned in her arms and cuddled his face between her soft breasts, demanding more.

So she sang for so long until she finally felt him fall asleep.

She flinched and twisted in her place, awakened in the middle of the night from a deep slumber as she felt his hand on her waist – his lips placed a soft, warm kiss on her neck while his fingers slid slowly between her thighs – she sighed, not opening her eyes, unsure if it was a dream or not, feeling his fingertips sink into her delicate, silky folds.

"– mmm –" She hummed, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen as his fingers began to play with her little bud, trailing around it in lazy, slow strokes, slowly building tension deep inside her.

"– shhh – sleep –" He whispered in her ear, placing moist, gentle little kisses on her face – his other hand slid under her body and closed over her breast, teasing her hard, popping nipple, his fingers between her thighs soaked in her wetness.

"– ah –" She moaned as she felt his hard manhood hit her buttocks, then again and again – she sighed as his hand gripped her silken thigh and spread it, lifting it slightly upwards, the swollen, thick head of his erection pushed against her slit, opening her wide.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out as he began to groan along with her, slowly sliding all the way into her, imposing an aggressive, fast pace on her at once. His fingers slid down from her breasts to her throbbing womanhood – while the tip of his length rubbed the spot deep inside her again and again, his fingertips stroked her little pearl from the outside.

She squirmed, clasping her hand on his arm, panting loudly along with him, listening to the way their bare hips pounded against each other with loud, sticky splats.

"– yes – yes, yes, yes, yes, please –" She begged, feeling that she was so wonderfully close, his hot, accelerated breath on her face telling her that he wanted nothing more than for her to come.

"– shhh – come on, soak my cock – thaat's it, there we go –" He whispered tenderly into her ear as her fleshy walls pulsed around his hard manhood in spasms of pleasure – she threw her head back, moaning sweetly along with him, feeling her moisture run down her thigh when, after a few messy, sloppy thrusts, her husband filled her with his seed with a sigh of relief.

She swallowed hard when he put his arms around her and hugged her back to his torso, entwining their legs together, leaving his throbbing length deep inside her.

"– can we remain like this? –" He asked quietly, and she nodded.

"– yes – I want to feel you –" She muttered, and he hummed contentedly, placing a warm, affectionate kiss on her bare shoulder.

She thought that she was going to experience nothing but rest until sunrise, but as soon as her husband awoke, still before dawn, he turned her gently onto her stomach and used her body to his heart's content.

"– ah – mghm – g-gods –" She mewled, half sunk in sleep, clasping her hands on the soft bedding beneath her, feeling the sweet tension in her loins again as he pounded into her from behind with loud smacks of their hips, hitting her little spot again and again.

"– sleep –" He breathed out in a voice heavy with desire, their bodies hot and throbbing, his swollen erection thrusting hard between her soft, warm thighs, not letting her escape.

She gasped as she came with him, listening to his groans of pleasure, unsure how many times he had done this to her – when she awoke, her cunt was all sore, leaking with his spend.

"– how many times have you taken me through the night? –" She mumbled, snuggled into his bare chest, trying to count in her thoughts.

Three?

Four?

Probably four, she thought.

"– I don't know what you mean – I slept like a little baby –" He murmured softly, running his fingertips down her back, not opening his eye.

She huffed quietly, knowing that he did this because he wanted to regain control over the situation, that he couldn't allow their closeness to be associated with the humiliation he had suffered because of his brother.

"– how am I supposed to fly on Sheepstealer today if I struggle to even sit down? –" She asked resentfully and heard him sigh heavily.

"– you had no objections then –" He grunted.

When, she wanted to ask to tease him further, but she didn't dare.

She raised herself on her elbow and shook her head, amused.

"– you must promise to let my poor, aching womanhood rest –" She said softly.

He pressed his lips together, tracing her bare, girlish body with the gaze of his healthy eye.

"– for how long? –" He asked uncertainly, unhappy.

She stroked his head with her fingers, looking at him with tenderness, his gaze fixed on her face gentle.

"– one night should be enough –" She replied.

He hummed under his breath and nodded.

"– mmm – very well – you have satisfied me many times tonight – you deserve to rest –" He muttered, and she placed a loud, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"– let's eat together –"

Despite the unpleasant events of last evening, the thought that they would be having a morning meal together for the first time filled them with good mood – her husband, dressed only in a linen shirt and breeches, sat down at the table as she headed for the seat on the other side, putting her nightgown over her shoulders.

"– what are you doing? –" He asked, grabbing for the bread, looking at her in surprise. "– take a seat by my side – unless I'm terrifying you so much –"

She smiled at his words and moved towards him, sitting down in the chair right next to him.

She wanted their closeness to be based on his desire – for him to know that he had control over what was happening between them and that she would not impose on him even as his wife.

It was the first time she'd seen what he ate in the morning – it didn't surprise her that he reached for scrambled eggs – a source of protein and strength he needed before sparring and training. She smiled under her breath as she herself reached for a platter of oatmeal, pouring it into her small bowl before pouring warm milk over it.

They ate in silence, but it was a pleasant kind of it, devoid of discomfort or tension – she couldn't help but smile, catching him glancing at her once in a while, the expression on his face gentle and content. She reached out her hand to him – he hummed under his breath and grasped her fingers in his, stroking her soft skin with his thumb.

So this is what her days will be like now, she thought, feeling nothing but peace for some reason.

"– I have a gift for you –" She said lightly.

He blinked and cocked his head, his smirk indicating that he was curious and excited.

"– mmm –"

She quickly ate a few spoonfuls of her porridge and rose from her seat, walking to one of the chests that had been moved to his chamber the day before.

Her Prince had wished her to have some of her belongings in his quarters, so that when she spent nights with him she could stay in his room in comfort.

She reached deep and smiled under her breath as she felt a long object wrapped in the fabric – she took it out and approached him – he wiped his hands in the white cloth, swallowing loudly at what was in his mouth.

She pulled the material off in a sweeping motion, and to their eyes appeared a long dagger specially made to her order – she had hunted many times with her cousin in Runestone and knew what proportions would be right for a man of his stature and height, making sure it would fit his hand well.

Her husband took her gift in his hands, completely surprised, gazing intently at the handle, which ended with the head of a dragon that had small sapphire stones inserted in the place of its eyes.

"– Vhagar –" He muttered, noticing in the beast's features a resemblance to his dragoness, which was no coincidence.

"– I drew her for the smith as best I could –" She confessed, and he looked at her, something in his gaze from which she felt a pleasant warmth in her heart.

He was touched.

"– it's a beautiful, thoughtful gift – of course that's what I received from my wife –" He said softly, taking her hand in his, lifting it to his lips, placing a delicate, tender kiss on her skin.

"– I also have a gift for you, ābrazȳrys – but I'm afraid it can't compare to yours –" He said, and she smiled with excitement and nodded.

"– wait for me –" He said and rose from his seat, moving towards the door, leaving the chamber.

What was this if he couldn't keep it in the room?

She waited for him for several long minutes, and when the door finally opened and he stood in the threshold, she noticed a small ball covered in fur in his arms, making a squeaky, high-pitched sounds.

It's a puppy, she thought in disbelief.

A hunting dog.

She got up from her seat and ran over to him, gushing with joy, reaching out her hands to him – her husband handed her the pup, who barked loudly and started wagging his tail – he had long, loping ears, his belly and paws were white, his back and sides brown and black.

"– I thought we should set off on a hunt together someday – when I saw him, I found you had the same eyes – I couldn't resist that pleading look –" He hummed, folding his hands behind his back, clearly pleased with her reaction.

"– hello, little one – ah, you're so sweet –" She mumbled as he licked her with his tiny pink tongue, squirming in her arms with excitement.

"– iksis ñuha ābrazȳrys biare? (is my wife happy?) –" He asked, and she threw him a joyful, bright look.

"– kessa (yes) – emā vēttan nyke olvie biare, valzȳrys (you have made me very happy, husband) –" She said softly, coming up to him – she stood up on her toes, placing a warm, wet kiss on his scarred cheek, from which a grimace of satisfaction spread across his face.

Her husband was to provide her little friend with an education so that, in fact, her dog could accompany them on hunts – the Prince burst out laughing when she said she would name her hound Daemon.

"– at last there will be a Daemon in my life whom I will be able to love –" She grunted, gently combing his hair after the bath – she longed to help him care for it herself and tie it at the back of his head, finding it a very private and intimate task, perfect for a wife.

She saw that, at the word love, he gave her a long, drawn-out look in the reflection of the mirror, but did not say a word.

She didn't care what he felt for her.

He was making her happy.

"Will you fly with me… to Harrenhal?" He asked suddenly in a voice strangely quiet and uncertain, as if for some reason he feared her refusal and rejection.

She threw him a quick, surprised glance, braiding the front strands of his snow-white hair with a black ribbon.

"Of course. My place is by your side. Always." She said without hesitation and placed her hand on his shoulder. She smiled warmly when his fingers caught hers, pressing her palm to his full, moist lips.

"– kirimvose, zaldrītsos (thank you, little dragon) –" He whispered, as if ashamed of his own words. "– kirimvose syt issare sȳz naejot nyke (thank you for being kind to me) –"

She blinked, feeling her heart squeeze at his words, so childlike, simple and sincere, guessing how difficult it had been for him to get such an embarrassing confession out.

"– iksā sȳz naejot nyke tolī, lēkia (you are kind to me too, big brother) –" She said softly, throwing her hands on his shoulders, leaning in so that her lips placed a gentle kiss on his temple.

When they were both ready, as planned, they set off on horseback to Vhagar's lair to soar into the sky on their dragons and fly over King's Landing – there was something beautiful in this act of unity, in the proof that from now on they were creating something common, together.

The meeting of the Small Council, which took place after their return, proceeded in a tense atmosphere – her husband made no sign of what humiliation he had suffered the day before, but his rage and desire for revenge was evident in his tense figure and sinister gaze.

His brother paid for rising from his bed with excruciating pain, so he was again given large quantities of the milk of the poppy.

"Now that the future of the Kingdom has been secured by marriage, we must take measures to take back Harrenhal from the Blacks. Daemon is gathering his forces there, ready to set out any day to his wife's aid. We must face him before the two armies are united." Said Otto in a voice full of calm and conviction about the rightness of his own words.

The Prince nodded.

"My wife and I will move at the head of our army in a few days to finally resolve this matter. I count on my sister and Dreamfyre, though not eager to fight, to defend the keep in our absence." He said coldly, and his grandfather nodded.

"I will see to it."

The rest of the day, which her husband spent on his duties, she spent in her chamber, playing on the floor with her new little pup – she knew she would have to return him to his guardian for the night to sleep with the other dogs, but now she could enjoy being with this sweet, innocent creature.

She liked how well thought out this gift was – not only did her husband show that he knew her nature, but he also gave her something to bring them closer together in the future, to give them another reason to spend time together.

This thought comforted her in the moments when her imagination showed her his face snuggled into the bosom of some pretty, mature, tender woman.

Did he love her?

Maybe he still does.

She blinked as the door to her chamber opened and her husband's sister, Queen Helaena, stepped inside – she rose quickly and bowed, surprised by this visit.

"I am sorry." She said, playing with the rings on her fingers. "For what happened to you last evening."

She nodded, accepting her words in her heart.

They had never spoken to each other before – after her son's death, it seemed to her that she had lived in a land of her own mind, unable to bear reality.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of her baby dog, who ran up to her on his short paws, squealing and whimpering, begging for attention. She smiled, looking up at her with an expression of childlike joy on her face.

"A puppy. Can I pet him?" She asked softly, and she nodded, throwing her a hearty, genuine smile.

"Of course, Your Grace." She said calmly, and seeing that the Queen sat on her knees on the ground, scratching Daemon's back, she did the same, taking the seat opposite her.

"My brother. He has changed." She said, however, not looking at her, but at her pup, busy combing his fur with her fingers.

"I don't follow, my Queen. Do you mean your lord-husband?" She asked in surprise.

"Aemond. Before he imprisoned you, he was on the path to his own destruction. There is a fire flowing through his veins that burns him from the inside everyday, however, he began to control himself for you – he doesn't want you to look at him like our mother does. With regret and resentment." She said calmly and gave her a long, dreamy look, then turned her gaze away again, as if distracted.

"Do you like to embroider? I like it a lot. Preferably all sorts of insects." She said lightly, suddenly changing the subject.

She blinked, feeling her heart pounding like a mad, unsure of how to behave, figuring she would simply follow the course of her thoughts.

"Unfortunately, I'm not talented in this aspect. Or maybe I didn't have a good teacher." She said honestly.

"I can teach you. It's not difficult if you master the technique properly." She replied, allowing Daemon to climb onto her thighs, content to recline comfortably in her lap.

"Very well." She replied without thinking, recognising that she should not refuse her.

Helaena did not look at her, but smiled broadly, as if her words made her happy.

"Your son will have your eyes."

She froze, looking at her in disbelief, wondering if she had heard correctly what she had said.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I do not understand." She muttered.

"I can see you holding him in your arms. The future king."

She swallowed hard, feeling the drop of a cold sweat run down her back.

"And my husband?"

"He is not beside you. All I hear is the sound of water."

She looked at her, feeling as if she froze, her heart stopped beating for a moment.

He is not beside you.

Why?

"What do you mean, Your Grace?" She mumbled in a trembling voice.

Helaena lifted her gaze to her, her face suddenly serious and fully focused – they both shuddered as the door to her chamber opened, and her lēkia stepped inside.

"Sister." He said cautiously, standing between them – Helaena, however, rose immediately without looking at them, her eyes widening again.

"– keep her close –" She said to him and walked away, leaving them with expressions of disbelief on their faces – her brother turned to follow her, concerned.

"What was that supposed to mean?" He asked when the door of her chamber closed behind her.

She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders.

"The death of her son has caused her to close herself off in her mind. She is lost." She muttered, herself not believing what she was saying, unable, however, to shift this burden onto him.

"What did she tell you?" He asked further, stepping closer to her, tense, his hands clenched into fists.

"She expressed her grief and sorrow for what her brother-husband did to us." She replied, thinking that telling him only part of the truth wasn't a lie after all.

All I hear is the sound of water.

"Never mind." He said, wanting to quickly change this uncomfortable topic.

"I have come to announce to you that summoning you to my chamber every day is tedious. I expect you to wait for me in my bed every evening." He said in an official tone, as if he had just presented her with some royal decree.

She smiled wearily and nodded, taking little Daemon's in her hands.

"Very well. I will take my friend back to his brothers and sisters and come to you." She said softly.

He hummed, pleased with her answer and left, leaving her alone.

She clenched her eyelids and burst into sobs as soon as the door to her chamber closed behind him.

He is not beside you.

All I hear is the sound of water.

So where will he be while she is caring for their child?

With his mistress in a hot bath?

She swallowed hard, looking down at her trembling hands, trying to calm herself, realising only now that Aegon's words had sunk into her heart like a thorn.

She preferred not to let him see her tears, so she cried until she calmed down – she recognised that prophecies and dreams, even if they contained a grain of truth, did not represent the full picture.

Surely there was something she could have done, she thought, trying to reassure herself, walking to his chamber in only her nightgown and a thin robe thrown over her shoulders.

Her husband was lying on his bed when she came in, holding a book on his thighs, which he was looking through curiously – he lifted his gaze to her when he heard her footsteps and hummed, his eye expressing gentle contentment.

"Come here." He murmured softly, drawing her to him by her hand when she was close enough, making her fall against his chest.

"– how is your little cunt? – did it rest properly today? –" He asked lightly, pulling the material of her nightgown up – he gently sunk his long fingers into her silky folds from the side of her buttocks, making her involuntarily smile with amusement.

"– yes – I am grateful to you for your understanding, husband –" She said softly, placing a warm, tender kiss on his cheek, while his other hand was stroking her back in lazy, slow motions.

"– mmm –" He said, spreading himself comfortably beside her as she lay on the soft bedding on her back, stroking his jaw with her knuckles.

He is not beside you.

She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her throat, thinking that she cherished that face, those lips, those eyebrows, those cheekbones, that chin and nose.

"What are you thinking about?" He whispered, seeing that her thoughts had drifted far away.

She blinked, pressing her lips together, feeling warm tears begin to run down her cheeks one by one, his loud gasp told her he was surprised.

"– what's it? – look at me, ābrazȳrys – where are these tears coming from? – tell me –" He muttered with sincere worry, lifting her chin with his finger, as if he was afraid that something had happened that would make him suffer her rejection.

Could she have asked him about her?

Of course not.

He will be furious.

"I can't. It's a subject you certainly don't want to discuss with me or anyone else." She muttered wearily and heard him swallow hard, his hot breath enveloping her face.

He was silent for a long moment, as if hesitating, and then she heard him open his mouth.

"You are my wife. I allow you to ask me anything you wish. I know you will not deliberately offend me or cause me discomfort." He said slowly, his voice trembling slightly, betraying his anxiety.

She looked at him surprised, whooping with tears, meeting his concerned, sad gaze.

This was not what she had expected.

She licked her lower lip, dry with stress, wanting to find the right words, the right way to tell him what was bothering her and not discourage him at the same time.

"What Aegon said. Then. He was referring to a woman who was important to you. Who you trusted. Who you kept coming back to. I don't know what I expected, but hearing that you did the same things with her that you do with me hurt me. Maybe because you are my first. There was no one before you."

"And the servant boy?" He asked dryly, looking at her sternly, wrinkling his brow – although he looked as if he was frustrated, his fingers trailing down her neck and cheek softened his expression.

She blinked and shook her head, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"I was desperate. I wished for someone to make me feel good, to make me feel safe. After all, you know it – you were there. You gave it to me yourself." She whispered.

"And there you have your answer." He replied calmly.

They looked at each other in silence, just being and breathing.

You have your answer.

He was desperate.

He wanted to feel good.

To feel safe.

He had no one to turn to, no one to go to, so out of desperation he went back to the brothel, to the woman who gave him comfort, to forget, at least for a moment, what he was experiencing inside himself.

She nodded, accepting his words, and he sighed quietly, as if relieved, obviously afraid that she would try to continue the subject further.

His hand slid down to her warm cheek, wet with her tears, which he brushed away with his thumb. She felt a pleasant sensation in her heart as he leaned in, his forehead pressed against hers.

"– there's no point in dwelling on the past – not when there's a shared future ahead of us – yours and my fate – no one else's –" He whispered, as if he was telling her his secret, something he was ashamed of.

Yours and my fate.

No one else's.

Something in his words, in the way he said them, made her feel relieved. She smiled softly and he drew in a loud breath, looking at her for a moment, only to cup her face in his hands and sink his fleshy lips into hers in a hungry, aggressive kiss.

She moaned into his throat, clasping her fingers in his hair, teasing his mouth with hers with sweet sighs of delight, thinking of how much she adored his scent, his closeness, his touch.

"– hāedar –" He breathed out into her lips between the loud clicks of their saliva, as if he was saying the words of a prayer.

She let his hands tear off her nightgown, let his head lean down, let his lips clamp greedily on her puffy nipple, sucking on it with his loud grunt of pleasure, her fingers pressing his body against her breasts.

She sighed as his lips traveled higher, placing wet, sticky kisses on her collarbone, on the hollow of her neck, on her jaw.

"– I want you inside me –" She mumbled, and he broke his caress, throwing her a surprised look.

"– I exaggerated last night – I don't want to cause you pain –" He said uncertainly, stroking her hot cheek with his broad hand.

"– I want to feel you – just be gentle –" She said, throwing her arms around his neck, spreading her thighs in front of him without shame.

She was his wife after all.

No more encouragement was needed – his hands immediately slid down to his breeches, untying them, after a moment releasing his heavy, swollen erection that hit her lower abdomen.

"– come here – there you go – shhh – easy –" He whispered as he guided his long manhood to her slit and with a slow, lazy thrust he opened her on the head of his cock, pressing his forehead against hers, looking down at what he was doing to her.

"– sadly, this poor cunt won't get any rest tonight – mmm –" He gasped out as he gently slid all the way into her – she moaned, feeling her aching walls pulsing around his hard length with desire, thinking that all she wanted was to be one with him.

Don't go where I can't follow you, she thought, looking at his face, his misty gaze full of hot lust, feeling the soft, steady thrusts of his hips as he rooted into her with the quiet clicks of her wetness.

"– does it hurt? – I'll stop, just say a word –" He whispered, stroking her cheeks, her shoulders, the sides of her waist and her buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what was more dear to him.

He leaned over her as she shook her head and kissed her in a way from which her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird – his moist lips brushed hers in a wonderfully tender, sweet caress, his thumb stroking her silky cheek, holding her close.

She closed her eyes, concentrating only on that, on his scent, his loud, warm breath, his sighs, the fleshy structure of his full lips that melded with hers again and again, his hard, pulsing erection stretching her slick core.

"– my lips never touched hers – never caressed her down there –" He whispered into her mouth, making hot shiver run down her spine, her cunt giving his length one, greedy squeeze – they both groaned into each other's throats as he shyly quickened his pace, thrusting into her more confidently, hitting the sweet spot deep inside her fleshy walls.

"– then, in the library – it was my first kiss –" He breathed out with difficulty, slamming into her harder and harder, his hips bumping against her buttocks with loud slaps.

She sobbed into his throat as his full lips sunk into hers again, the loud clicking of their saliva all around them in the utter chaos of their tongues and teeth.

Then, in the library.

It was my first kiss.

"– don't leave me –" She mewled into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tension building in her lower abdomen, a pleasant, tickling sensation running through her nipples, her fingertips and her throbbing, leaking womanhood.

"– never –" He breathed out, pressing his lips against hers in a more violent, passionate kisses, matching his thrusts, rough and deep, evidence of his pure lust – his hand ran lower, between her thighs, his thumb finding her little bud, all swollen with desire, brushing it with circular strokes.

"– I love you –" She cried out, feeling that her peak was approaching, that she was about to experience the strongest fulfilment of her life – she heard him sigh in surprise, his cock throbbing hard inside her in response, pounding into her with sticky clicks of her moisture.

"– I love you – I love you – I love you –" She sobbed loudly, feeling tears run down the sides of her face, clasping her fingers over his soft buttocks – his gaze was hot and dark as he looked down at her, his mouth wide open in disbelief, his hips slamming into her as hard as if he had lost his mind.

"– me – me too – f-fuck, I love you too – ah –" He exhaled and gasped, feeling her warm cunt begin to clench on his cock in delight, sucking it inside, her sweet whimpers of pleasure making him just come with a loud grunt, all welted and sweaty just as she was.

"– good gods, hāedar –" He breathed out and fell on top of her, as if he didn't believe what they had just done and said.

And yet.

Her walls were sore all over, but the feeling of fulfilment she experienced now, when he was deep inside her, when she smelled his scent, when she heard his heavy breath, was irreplaceable.

He gave her neck a little, tentative kiss, panting hard along with her, his manhood throbbing softly deep inside her, filling her with the remains of his seed.

He wanted to slide out of her, but her hands clamped down on his buttocks.

"– no – not yet –" She mumbled, and he sighed as if relieved, with a gentle thrust sinking deep into her body again.

They lay like this in silence, just embracing each other and breathing, taking comfort from their closeness, from the warmth of their bodies.

She ran her fingers through his hair, stroking his back with her other hand and closed her eyes, wanting to remember this, this moment, them, together, happy.

I will always be by your side, she thought.

I will save you.

_____

Author's note: The dog she got from her husband is a Beagle. Aemond saw the servants carrying some puppies walking down the courtyard and, looking at one, thought "gods, he looks at me like my betrothed". He thought that she probably felt lonely in the Red Keep and perhaps she would be happy to have a companion.

[starless-nightz]

i sent this request to someone else about a year and a half ago and i went back to look at it but they never made it into a fic so i thought it’d ask you instead while also making some small changes to my old request

Eloise bridgerton x fem!royalty!reader where two women can get married as long as one of them is rich enough to support the both of them

reader has to soon take over the throne because she is an only child but she has to first get married so she goes to London to find a wife or a husband and Eloise accidentally makes reader laugh (like that one scene w queen charlotte) which makes Eloise catch readers eye and she tries to court Eloise but Eloise being herself decides to be stubborn and act as if she has no feelings for the reader

readers mother strictly reminds her that she has little time left to find a match which forces reader to move on and try to find someone else who’s more willing to marry

of course Eloise gets jealous which makes her realize her mistake and it end’s with Eloise confessing right before the day reader is about to propose to another girl saying something along the lines of “dont marry her”

happy ending pleaseeee

Eloise being courted by fem! royalty! reader

note -> I absolutely love this idea! I made this into HCs and a scenario since I dont have any idea how to make it into a fic, sorry :[

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff/angst, smitten reader, jealousy.

You didnt want to get married, but you had to, as you knew your father was at the brink of death and you would soon need to ascend the throne, forcing you to marry

You disliked the girls this season, they only liked you for your power and money, you wanted someone who would genuienly love you

The moment your eyes layed on Eloise Bridgerton you knew you were smitten, and the way she talks and jokes always make you laugh

You tried to court her, always sending her, her mother and her sisters flowers and gifts, dancing with her at balls, reading and talking about her favorite books, even becoming close friends with some of her brothers

But Eloise did not want you, or at least she acted like it, so your mother forced you to find someone else

The girl wasn't too bad, but she wasn't Eloise, and you knew you could never love her, even if you tried, but she was the best choice from the ton, so you asked her father for her hand, which he agreed

You didnt understand why Eloise was so upset that you were courting another, she didn't want you, after all, but she proved you wrong the day before you were going to propose

"You cannot marry her! I wouldnt allow it!" Eloise said as she grabbed your arm, her eyes filled with guilt and jealousy.

"Why not? I wanted you, Eloise, but you made it quite clear you did not want me, and I must marry if I were to ascend the throne." you said as you looked back at her, you loved her, but she did not love you, so you have to marry another.

You freed your arm from her grip and you turned away to leave, until you heard her say-

"But I want you! I was wrong, i was stuborn, I want you and I do not wish to see you marry another!" she said, a tear running down her cheek, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You turned back to her, losing your breath, she wanted you? All along she wanted you?

"Are you certian you want me?" you asked her and she nodded, looking back up at you.

"I have loved you ever since you started courting me, but I was too stuborn to admit it, i have only realised it when you started courting another, please, i cant see you marry another." her voice broke as she spoke, her eyes begging and pleading for you.

"I could never imagine choosing another over you, especially now that I know you return my undying love." you said as you bringed her closer, pulling her in a kiss which she gladly returned.

[sepublic]

Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.

Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.

She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...

And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.

Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.

Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.

So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?

Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.

There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.

On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.

[disneyprincemuke]

✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧

while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another

notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are

“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”

“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”

“you can’t just do that!”

“yeah, i can! watch me!”

marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?

either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.

spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.

so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.

your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.

it’s a lot harder than you thought.

you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.

so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.

considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.

she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”

“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”

luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.

so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.

luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.

“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”

“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”

“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”

logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.

he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.

“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”

she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”

you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”

you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.

it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.

“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”

you smile and nod. “of course!”

it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.

acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.

“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”

you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. “luna, why would you ask me that?”

she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”

you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.

“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”

she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”

“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”

luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”

“lulu, where are you going?”

she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”

you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”

she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.

she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”

logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?

“what?”

her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”

“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”

she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”

logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”

she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”

she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.

“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”

she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”

“of course!”

suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.

a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”

logan tilts his head. “do we?”

“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”

you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”

luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”

“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.

she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”

you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”

logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”

before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”

you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”

“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”

“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”

you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.

“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”

she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”

she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.

logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.

“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”

“of course.”

she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”

“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.

“i brought sugar for your tea.”

you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.

“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”

you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).

then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.

luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.

it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.

it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.

“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”

“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”

without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.

“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”

you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”

logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”

“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”

he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”

you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”

he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”

“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”

he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”

you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”

luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.

@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @localwhoore

[mellowsadistic]

Alison sulked on her time-out stool, wondering how long she'd been sitting there. There were no clocks in her nursery, but it felt like hours since her husband had dragged her inside, changed her into one of her punishment diapers, and sat her in the corner with that stupid tiara on her head.

She squirmed a little on her seat and winced. Her bottom was still sore from the spanking she'd received earlier - her husband hadn't been at all pleased when he'd found out how much she'd spent on his credit card, and she'd had to endure almost twenty minutes kicking and crying over his lap before he'd let her up. It wasn't fair! She'd been on a shopping spree with her girlfriends! Was she just supposed to have tagged along, not buying anything? She was sure her friends had spent just as much money as she had... but she was equally sure that none of them were sitting on red bottoms right now, nor would they be wearing diapers, and not one of their houses would have a nursery in it just for them. No, they had husbands who treated them with respect, or who at least saw them as adults.

Alison felt herself going red as she imagined what her friends would say if they could see her now, being punished like a naughty toddler. She knew she ought to put her foot down and insist that she wouldn't let herself be treated like this, but it was just so hard to protest when her husband spoke to her in his authoritative voice, with that stern look in his eyes. For all her feminist ideals and principles, she never managed to do more than whimper when he told her off like a child and announced that she was getting a spanking and a stint in diapers to teach her a lesson. The little plastic tiara was the cherry on top. Her husband called it her "princess potty-pants" tiara, and she had to wear it whenever she wore her diapers. It made her feel like a stupid little girl playing dress-up, and no doubt that was exactly how he wanted her to feel.

Alison scowled around at her nursery with its stupid playmat and its mind-numbing baby toys and the dumb stuffed animals lying around everywhere. She particularly despised the oversized baby blocks sitting on the shelf that held her diapers. She did not love diapers. In fact, she hated them more than anything else in the whole world. She hated how they pushed her legs apart, she hated the way they crinkled with every movement, and most of all she hated what they were for. Alison squirmed again and pressed her thighs together as close as they would go, then let out a quite moan of distress. She needed to pee badly. She was no stranger to this kind of punishment, as the full diaper pail in the corner could attest, but somehow, no matter how many times she was forced to wet herself, it never got easier.

After another minute of increasingly desperate wiggling, she gave up. With a deep breath, Alison clenched her eyes shut and relaxed her bladder. The stream began at once. "Eww..." she whined under her breath, winkling her nose in disgust as she felt the thick padding between her legs start to swell up with pee. "Ew, ew, ewww!" Warmth spread from her crotch, but the knowledge of what she was doing rid the sensation of any pleasantness. She was peeing herself. She was wetting her diaper like an overgrown baby. Tears filled her eyes as her thick baby pants became soggier and soggier. The smell of urine reached her nose and she sobbed. She fell so small, so stupid.

Then came her husband's voice. "Alright, baby girl, time-out is over."

She looked up through her tear-filled eyes to see him walking into the room, looking highly satisfied at the sight of her desperate expression.

"Uh-oh," he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, "I think someone's had a little accident. Have you wet yourself, baby?"

Alison sobbed again and nodded. She lifted her fists to her eyes to wipe the tears from them, so she didn't notice her husband's hand until it was already sliding down the front of her diaper. She let out a squeal of protest, but it went ignored.

"Oh my, you're absolutely soaked!" he said, feeling the sodden padding in her diaper. "You really had to go, didn't you, princess potty-pants?" He withdrew his hand and tapped her on the nose. "I guess that tiara's not just for show, is it?" He straightened up. "You can stand up now, baby."

Alison got shakily to her feet, cringing as her diaper sagged heavily between her legs. It was so wet that she could feel the warm, swollen padding brushing against her thighs, and it was drooping down almost to her knees. A whine rose involuntarily in her throat, and she couldn't help flapping her hands in revulsion. It was so yucky!

"You don't like wearing wet diapers, do you, Alison?" her husband asked.

Alison bit back her retort. Of course she didn't! "No, Daddy," she said, unable to bring herself to look him in the eyes.

"And you don't like being spanked either, do you?"

There was a pause. "No, Daddy."

"Do you know why Daddy has to spank your little bottom and make you wear diapers?"

Alison clenched her fists. Now was the time. Now was the moment to tell him she wouldn't put up with this anymore.

"Because I'm a silly little girl," she said meekly, staring at the carpet, "and it's the only way I'll learn."

"Good girl. You can stay in that wet diaper for a few more hours to really drive the lesson home. I'll change you into a clean one at bedtime. Now take Daddy's hand, soggy-britches. Let's go and have a cuddle, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

[absolutely-esme]

Monster!Tim Coraline AU Idea

This idea would not leave me alone.

It’s a cross between a meta!/magic!Tim au and a Coraline au.

Before I get into it, I feel like I should explain.  I was on a bit of an Eldritch!Batfamily and Cryptid!Batfamily kick.  Then I found a collection of supernatural Tim aus.  Then I stumbled across a Coraline au.  There’s probably also some inspiration in there from vampire au fics.

It didn’t really jell until the idea occurred to me of a scene where some frightened villain asks Tim “What kind of monster are you?” and Tim says “The hungry kind.”

...

The idea is that somewhere back along the way, Tim’s family tree includes some kind of supernatural creature which may or may not have been an eldritch entity.

The supernatural heritage allows Tim to acquire abilities from other entities he has defeated, and Gotham is absolutely full of the supernatural if you pay attention.

Of course, Tim’s power isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.  It actually comes packaged with some pretty nasty side effects.

One of those side effects is perpetual Hunger.  Tim is always Hungry.  There is no way to stop it.  He eats enough to stay healthy, but he still feels Hunger at all times.  Increasing his food intake will not help and will screw up his metabolism and cause him to need more for normal function.  If this was allowed to spiral out of control it could eventually reach a point where he was physically unable to eat the amount of food he needed to function and starved to death on a full stomach. 

Fixing it is stupid hard because this particular sort of magical inheritance is really fucking inconvenient.  And, of course, whatever is up with his biology also makes him insanely susceptible to addiction, so no coffee for him unless he wants caffeine withdrawal symptoms all the time for however long it takes to fix that.  The constant Hunger also makes it difficult to get enough sleep.  Have you ever tried to go to sleep on an empty stomach?  Not easy, was it?  Imagine that every night.

The Hunger is fairly central to the nature of the magic.  Whatever supernatural entity he’s descended from, it is the Hungry kind.  The ritual of defeating another supernatural entity, taking a bit of the defeated entity’s power, and incorporating it into himself serves as a sort of metaphorical devouring, (and metaphors matter more to magic than they do to normal biology).  That’s why he’s able to gain power and abilities from defeated foes. 

...

Tim’s relationship with his parents is complicated.  His supernatural heritage comes from his mother’s side of the family.  She did her best to teach him about it and how to cope with it, but a lot of knowledge was lost over the generations due to persecution forcing those like them into hiding more than once.  There may have been a few individuals who spiraled out of control and caused small-scale famines before losing their lives.  It only takes a few cases for people to decide that a specific category of people is simply not worth the risk of having around.  Janet always referred to herself and Tim (as well as anyone else sharing the condition) as “those afflicted with Gluttony.”  This is the closest they have to a name for the condition.

One of the important things Janet Drake teaches her son is to pursue his passions.  It is incredibly important for individuals like them to have things outside the self that they can draw satisfaction and fulfilment from, things that keep them going in the face of the relentless Hunger.  This is what leads Tim to his night-time photography of Gotham, and eventually to his fascination with the Bats. 

Janet’s passions are archeology and travel.  Unfortunately, traveling from dig site to dig site is not a particularly stable or safe environment to raise a child in.  She needs to do these things to remain in good health.  Without her external coping mechanisms, she could start spiraling.  If she starts spiraling, it might trigger her son to start spiraling too because children in their developmental years are delicate, and this type of hereditary magic is fucking inconvenient (there might be ways of managing things that make it easier to live with, but between the knowledge lost and the risks that come with experimentation, they don’t have much info on how anything works).  She comes home as much as she can without the risk of compromising both their health.

She also taught Tim how to calculate appropriate portion sizes based on nutritional data so as not to screw up his metabolism, and how to fix it if he does mess up.  She also stayed and managed the process the first time it happened because the process of returning the metabolism of one afflicted with Gluttony to normal after it’s gotten out of hand is difficult and unpleasant and Tim wasn’t old enough to handle it by himself.  The nanny that had overfed him hadn’t been malicious or unreasonable, she’d just been operating on the assumption that he had standard human biology.  It took months to get Tim healthy again.  It took several hefty bribes to keep things under wraps.  Janet doesn’t know if there are still people out there hunting their kind, but she’s not willing to risk it.

Janet may not know about the aspect of the family magic that lets them gain powers from defeating other entities.  It’s possible that she was holding off on explaining this until he was older and more ready for the responsibility of multiple superpowers.  It’s also possible that the knowledge got lost somewhere along the way and Janet didn’t discover it herself because she didn’t spend her childhood running around Gotham at night and was more the sort of person who would stay home and read when she had trouble sleeping.

...

Tim discovers his ability to gain abilities from defeating other supernatural things fairly early on.  The type of defeat can vary, but it has to be something of significance.  A fight will work for most, but there are other particular challenges that will work for specific cases.

The first things a young Tim is able to beat are these small things, invisible to most, that gain power from learning secrets.  What that power is used for, I couldn’t tell you.  They don’t seem to do much other than sneak around and learn secrets.  Tim doesn’t know if there’s a proper name for these things or not, but he calls them Secret Hunters.  They are absolutely everywhere in Gotham. 

Secret Hunters are invisible to most, but Tim is able to see them.  It might be because of his own supernatural nature, or it might be something else entirely.  If it’s hereditary it must have skipped his parents’ generation.  Neither of them seem to be able to see them.  Tim gains improved stealth and a sense for when something is hidden from catching Secret Hunters until they wise up and start avoiding him.  (Catching them works in place of a fight because secret hunters primarily operate on stealth and evasion.)

He can’t just magically know secrets, but he can tell when there is a secret.  (He still figured out Batman’s and Robin’s secret identities on his own merit.  The most this ability would have done is alert him to the fact that they had secret identities if that hadn’t already been obvious from the fact that they were wearing masks.)

He also gets various other abilities from other things he encounters while scrambling all over Gotham at night.  Nearly doesn’t get out of some of the scrapes he gets himself into.  He gains the ability to cut with his fingernails as if they were razors from something that nearly killed him.  He gains the ability to climb like a goat from a Jersey Devil.  Etc.

...

At some point, Tim is targeted by a beldam.  He doesn’t get the kind of warnings that Coraline does, but his ability to sense secrets lets him know that the Beldam is hiding something, and any child raised in any part of Gotham knows to be suspicious of things that seem too good to be true.  Tim doesn’t have a convenient seeing stone from the neighbor, but he does have the advantage of his own supernatural nature which the Beldam doesn’t know about.

Tim finds a button-eyed doll that looks like him after his parents leave on yet another trip, and thinks it’s a gift they meant to give him before leaving.  They do often bring interesting souvenirs.  It wouldn’t be at all unusual for them to find an artist who sews dolls to look like people and have one made based on pictures of him.  Later on, he discovers the key. 

This Beldam is older and more powerful than the one from Coraline.  She has more power and more past victims to work with, so she’s able to make a larger, more populated world. 

Oh by the way, I head-canon that the Other versions of people in the Other world are actually past victims of the Other Mother, remade and dressed up for whatever role she has them play.  The three ghosts were just the three most recent and not fully processed for use yet.  That’s why the Others are able to act against her sometimes (Other Wybie saving Coraline from the mirror, Other Father tossing the eye to Coraline) or say things she doesn’t want them too (Other Father says “so sharp you won’t feel a thing” and Other Mother kicks him under the table).

The Other Mother doesn’t know all that Tim knows, so the Other World has inconsistencies like Other Batman and Other Robin sitting across the table from Other Bruce and Other Jason.  She doesn’t know they’re the same people.  She just knows that they’re all important to Tim.  She also tries to tell him to “eat as much as he wants” when his real mother was the one to explain the dangers of attempting to eat to fullness for people with their condition.

There isn’t a cat to warn Tim but he doesn’t need it.  He can sense hidden intentions in everything, and he’s fully capable of uncovering the hidden secrets himself. 

Tim doesn’t have a cat, but he does have Other Robin, who might have been made from whatever remained of someone close to one of the people mirrored in the Other World made for Tim.  He doesn’t remember his life, but somehow he feels incredibly motivated to help a boy who cares dearly for whoever and is willing to let him know that they're living a good life out there in the real world.

Tim discovers the nature of the other world and sets out to free the souls trapped there.  He fights the Beldam will all the viciousness and desperation of someone who knows they’ve only got one shot.  He takes everything he can from this fight as he makes sure she won’t ever hurt anyone again.  He doesn’t stop until the beldam is well and truly dead.  Then he unravels Other Gotham and spills all of the souls out into the world where they can move on and rest.

This is how Tim learns to Sew.  He can’t make entire populated worlds like the beldam, but that’s mostly because he refuses to do what she did.  He can control things he’s made (though there’s limits on how much) and even see through buttons he’s sewn (onto cushions and such, he's not the Other Mother).  He also gets some minor illusory powers that let him make things look a bit brighter/nicer/cheerier than they are.  It takes quite some time before he’s comfortable with using these powers.  Trauma is a bitch like that.

Part of the reason this version of Tim was so desperate to do something about Batman losing it out of grief is because he already has Evil Batman trauma from Other Batman, and he doesn’t need that shit happening in real Gotham.

By this point Tim has a collection of powers that allow him to navigate the more dangerous parts of Gotham largely without fear.  Now he has to learn how to manage without using any that he isn’t one hundred percent certain he can sneak past Batman, which means he’ll have to divide his attention between learning from the training and not letting himself do things the supernatural way.  This is going to suck.

It does, in fact, suck.

Oh, it turns out some of the rogues are a bit supernatural.  He gains a bit of an intuitive understanding of the health of plants from Ivy.  He gains the ability to taste emotions from Scarecrow.  (Also, Johnathan Crane is a freaking weirdo, fear tastes like spoiled milk!)  The rogues with supernatural tendencies are freaking terrified of the new Robin because he always seems like he wants to freaking eat them.  The non-supernatural types don’t get it.

Eventually, Red hood breaks into Titan’s tower.  Tim, by this point, is very good at deciphering how supernatural entities work and is packing an extensive inventory of powers.  He realizes quickly that this is some kind of manipulative entity that feeds on rage and pain attached to an unwitting host.  When he realizes that the unknowing (and therefore unconsenting) host is Jason Todd, he tells the Lazarus Entity in no uncertain terms to give Jason back or perish.

Jason, who does not realize he has a malicious, mind-warping, supernatural parasite and believes there to be no one other than himself and Tim present, is understandably confused.

Tim decides that the Lazarus entity has had its chance and springs into action.

Jason is treated to the terrifying sight of just what Tim Drake is like when he’s not expending conscious effort on not being something out of a horror movie.  Suddenly he’s in the middle of a spider’s web and no matter how hard he tries to fight back everything around him is under the control of his opponent.  Furniture flies around on puppet strings.  Getting too close puts him in range of the freaking claws this kid apparently has!?  Trying to get away just leaves him caught in strings and the more he struggles the more entangled he becomes!  The new Robin is skittering and gliding around in a decidedly inhuman way. 

Jason honestly thinks he's going to die when he finds himself bound with Tim standing over him.  He passes out when Tim rips the Lazarus entity away from him and destroys it. 

Tim gains the ability to heal from defeating the Lazarus entity.

Jason is surprised and confused when he wakes up bundled in a handmade quilt with his head in Tim’s lap and a cool compress on his forehead, feeling sore but more well and whole than he has since before he died.

Jason later decides that his memories of the fight at Titans Tower must be some kind of weird fever dream caused by his body purging the last of the Lazarus Water from his system. It goes along with Tim's account of things.

According to Tim, Jason entered the tower, initiated a lock-down, and then collapsed on the floor. Then, Tim moved him closer to a wall where he was less likely to get stepped on than in the middle of the walkway and did his best to take care of him there because Jason was simply too large and heavy for him to carry all the way to the med bay by himself.

This is far more believable and less of a mind screw than what Jason remembers. Obviously this tiny, baby-faced kiddo who played nursemaid for a stranger who broke into the tower and now looks up at him with wide, starry eyes couldn't actually be the terrifying, predatory creature from the nightmare. It was all just a bad dream.

He's honestly glad he collapsed before he had time to do any harm. The poor kid will never have to know what Jason went there to do. Jason knows, though, and he'll do his damned best to make up for it. He may have flubbed first impressions, but he is going to be the best damn big brother that ever big brothered.

...

Tim might or might not go full on feral cryptid when Bruce is lost in the Timestream. I haven't decided. He will probably pick a fight with the Lazarus Pit much to the confusion and alarm of everyone around.

That’s all I’ve got so far.

[zeezelweazel]

Leah Williamson| Deal-breaker|

______________________________________

I randomly got this idea and finished it on one go, I'll get back to that Lia fic now

Summary: You and Leah have been dating for well over a year now. It all comes crashing down when a touchy subject is brought up and an impossible to close chasm opens up between the two of you.

TW: talks of pregnancy and having children, angst (no happy ending)

____________________________________________________

Everyone knows how healthy and happy your relationship with Leah is. All of your teammates have it as an example of how all relationships should be. With cute and romantic dates, a lot of communication and appropriate boundaries your relationship is ideal. Perhaps that was the first red flag. It was too good to last.

It all happened on a Wednesday night, after one of your dates. Both of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a crappy movie that the blonde somehow enjoyed. You weren't really paying attention, more focused on Leah's heartbeat and her sweet perfume.

Suddenly Leah started tapping your head and you half heartedly looked at the screen to see what your girlfriend was so excited about. There was a family on the screen, a mother and a father watching delighted as their child took her first steps.

"Isn't she adorable?" Leah cooed at the bald baby on the tv. You only hummed in response, not thinking anything of it, as you pushed your face back on it's rightful place between Leah's shoulder and neck.

For the remainder of the movie Leah was quiet, which you definitely didn't mind, you were almost asleep on the blonde's arms. You didn't even realise the movie was over until Leah repositioned, forcing you to pull back grumpily. Leah looked deep in though as her eyes moved from the dark screen to your face and back on the turned off tv. It was clear she was pondering wether or not to say what she had in mind.

"Have you ever thought about starting a family?" Your eyes widened and a heavy weight immediately pulled on your stomach. Leah looked at you, nervous for your answer but she was trying to hold back a smile, clearly telling you what type of answer the defender was expecting.

"No. I mean I have, obviously, but I've known for years now that I don't want kids."

Leah's face shifted through every possible emotion until it settled on what seemed like pure distraught. You clenched your hands around the blanket and waiting for her to say something.

"You... don't want kids. Ever. You don't to start a family with me?" Leah's voice was shaking and her eyes were teary in a way that made you nauseous. You hate seeing her upset, but especially when you're the reason why. Right now though you were more concerned about the direction this conversation was headed towards.

"No Leah. I" you paused to take a deep breath and calm yourself." I thought you knew? I mean we've been friends for years and I've mentioned a thousand times how I don't like children."

Leah curled in on herself, almost recoiling away from you, all while her shoulders started shaking. You sighed and got up, kneeling on Leah's side and pressing a hand on her back, desperate to reassure the blonde and calm her down. Leah, however, pushed your hand away and abruptly got up.

"I thought you saw this as a serious relationship-"

"I do! Kids have nothing to-"

Leah laughed humourlessly and shook her head. Both of you were standing facing eachother, angry and upset.

"I always wanted to start a family with you. God I was such an idiot." Another empty chuckle pushed its way pass her chest." Making plans and daydreaming."

You were getting angrier by the second. You don't understand how Leah could be making plans for such things when she knew for a fact you didn't want kids. Did she think you'd magically change your mind? You felt betrayed in a way, like Leah never truly loved you, like she prayed every night that you'd wake up a different woman in the morning.

Imagining yourself with a child in your arms, your child, made you want to throw up. The idea of having a kid of your own never was one you entertained for more than half a second. It's been this way since junior high and it sure as hell wasn't going to change now.

"I love you Leah. I love how you look so serious and pissed off all the time but you're actually a sweetheart. I love how you have no idea how to cook but you try anyway. I love how passionate and hardworking and smart you are. I love you and I really thought that was enough."

You were close to crying at this point, your thoughts running a thousand miles per hour. Neither of you spoke for a moment as you simply tryied to understand what just happened. What this means for your relationship.

"If you think I don't take our relationship seriously because of something that you've known for years I can't do anything to change your mind Leah."

"And I can't do anything to show you how much starting a family means to me."

Leah sat back down on the couch, shoulders slumped in defeat as she breathed heavily through her nose. A lump gathered in your throat as you realised you hit a dead end. You pushed all the emotions back down and you closed your eyes, taking in the words that are about to leave your mouth.

"This is it then... We're breaking up." Leah raised her head and looked at you panicked. She got up and reached out for you, only to grab at empty air when you moved a step back. Leah shook her head as tears slipped down her cheeks. You let out a shaky breath as you framed her face softly.

"We want different things in life Leah, very different things. I can't force you to forget about starting a family just how you can't expect me to change my mind about becoming a mother." Your voice broke and your eyes were full of tears. Neither of you wanted this but it was clear it had to be done.

You still remember the anguish in Leah's voice as she yelled and begged for you to stay but you couldn't. The sound of the door banging shut left a migraine inducing ringing in your ears. The world was blurred as you closed the door of your car after sliding in. You stared blankly at the steering wheel not knowing what to think or how to react. The tires screeched against the rough street and your heart was tearing itself up in your chest the further you went away from Leah.

You kept driving anyway.

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[xiao-come-home]

Genshin + HSR men as dads;

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✰ Characters:

↳ Genshin: Ayato, Itto, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao.

↳ HSR: Blade, Jing Yuan, Luocha.

✰ Words: 3,5k.

✰ SFW ; afab!reader, because pregnancy mentions. fluff.

Warnings: established relationship, the characters are reader's husbands, mentions of pregnancy, babies, ayato always ends up kinda horknee????? slight spoilers about blades past, not beta read THERES NO TIME FOR THAT

A/N: this is my first time writing for hsr and kaveh, but I tried my best </3 also I have work in 2h and I haven't slept yet. this is more important. pog also give me feedback if you like hsr pieces ;q;

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Ayato Kamisato:

he's such a girl AND boy dad you can't convince me otherwise. i just can't get that out of my head: imagine just chilling with your husband, you two enjoying some tea or coffee, while watching your children happily yell and play outside; ayato plays with your palm slightly, switching between rubbing it with his fingers and interlocking it, giving you occasional glances and tiny smiles.

ayato's definitely a strict parent, but wants his children to feel freedom - he does not force them to practice something they don't like, but teaches them necessary stuff they need to know if they are to be the future of the Kamisato clan.

he DEFINITELY had a boy first. and his son DEFINITELY looks like a perfect mixture of you two - he has ayato's eyes and hair type, but your hair color and smile.

your daughter, on the other hand, is exactly like ayato's copy, except with your personality - and he's extremely whipped for her. his little girl wanted to practice a new hairstyle with multiple pink hair clips? oh well, looks like he goes like this to his important meeting.

though, your son is just as mischievous as his father, if not worse - has probably trolled Itto more than once by the shy age of just three. he's also definitely interested in ayato and ayaka's battle styles, like hello??? HOW DO YOU JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT??? AND TURN INTO SNOW??????

even though some fights between his children happen, as it's a thing you can't avoid - the big brother is very protective of his little sister and would do anything to make her happy! even if it means princess tea time. it reminds ayato of his, though not as fortunate, childhood memories with ayaka before she grew up to be the strongest woman and best auntie we know.

ayato probably teases you about wanting a third one, so they look like you this time. "say, darling, how about we get another little one?" feeling his smile, ayato whispers into your ear, "think about it, love," he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, "you just look so perfect I can't resist you."

Arataki Itto:

i do nOT care, his child is just as hyper as him. they're his absolute best buddy, partners in crime, you name it. but there's a plot twist - thank god your child thinks more often than their father AND stops him sometimes.

listen. absolute boy dad. his son is his pride and joy,he bragged so much about his boy to the point that Raiden Shogun herself heard about him.

so, remember itto being severely allergic to beans as an oni? his son absolutely loves beans and could eat them with no side effects. but itto being itto, prepares him meals with beans and takes it as a challenge. he just might cry, or throw up at worst. but hey, everything for his little sunshine.

^^your son absolutely cheers when he's making him dinner and suffering like?? "go dad! you're so awesome!" "yummy!" and itto's screaming back with tears dripping down his cheeks, "yes, YES!! THE BEST COOK OF INAZUMA, ARATAKI ITTO!"

itto prides himself in creating the most perfect small person to ever exist. your son inherited itto's golden heart and your brains (thank god). he's truly a ball of sunshine, and possibly the happiest and polite boy in Inazuma. with a pair of red horns just like his dad, red streaks in his hair and markings, itto's pupils and your eye color.

hear me out: total best pals with ayato's son. they love playing board games and battle onikabuto with each other, and much to itto's delight, his son is usually the winner, but the boys always politely thank each other for the game and move on.

your son is actually such a smooth talker to ayato's daughter to the point that he considers giving them a blessing and suffering being in-laws with itto.

he's also (great)grandma oni's favorite child now... he loves baking, cooking and sewing with her, and showing her his favorite onikabuto that you and itto let him keep as a pet!

itto's actually VERY down to have a few more kiddos if your pregnancy went well. he'd love a little girl to spoil his long hair, or maybe two. and two more sons so he wouldn't be lonely..

that time itto caught ushi sound asleep with his ball of sunshine next to him was the day he'll never forget. with tears in his eyes, he covered them in a warm blanket and let them snooze for a little more before bedtime.

Alhaitham:

literally no one, not even one soul knew that alhaitham has a child until they saw him walking a three-year-old. and the said child is probably the most behaved child that has ever been born.

seriously, your son is probably the smartest child ever. alhaitham, despite some worries, did and still does very well as a father - he began teaching him to talk earlier, he also seemed to have taken a liking to some instruments when he got older. the scribe's little one also enjoys it when his dad reads with him! be it alhaitham's books or fantasy ones, they have a special routine just for reading.

your son absolutely looks up to his father. when he sees him drafting some documents, his eyes shine with curiosity and adoration. alhaitham, can't help but smile slightly when he isn't looking.

nahida promoted alhaitham as the Acting Grand Sage. he promoted her as his babysitter.

^^but in a more serious tone, I genuinely think Nahida would be somewhat interested in your child - not in a negative light in any way, but.. it does make her wonder how a small child could be so smart. though his son has a long way to go and grow up, each year he manages to surprise her.

when his son is too bothered by the attention of other people, alhaitham gives him his noise-canceling headphones; they're a bit too big on him, but he appreciates it anyway.

alhaitham makes sure your son remembers his late grandmother, despite having not met her. even if the scribe does not consider himself a very emotional person, he wants the memory of her to live on.

he encourages his child to make his own decisions, too - just like he had that choice as well; if his son wants to break the ice and become more outgoing - alhaitham will not stand in his way. he wants him to grow up as the person he truly wants to be.

he definitely explained some god-tier science to his toddler son while holding him in his arms, receiving only some confusing "blah blag bwwwug" in return, watching him bite his tiny hand in happiness. he continued.

if there's something that alhaitham shares with his son, it's his love for naps. sometimes you all sleep together, and when it's time to wake up - both of them whine and your son snuggles up to his dad, to which your husband responds by getting his arm over the little one and giving you a small chuckle with one eye open, shortly before falling back asleep.

kaveh is your child's godfather. no, it wasn't his choice.

after a bit of hesitation and a lot of thoughts, he wouldn't mind to have another one; genders don't matter to him by any means, but I see him with yet another son :)

Kaveh:

kaveh and his twins could rival itto and his son's enthusiasm - it's what kaveh wants his kids to always remember - he wants them to enjoy every single bit of life, even if it's something simple.

the famous architect has decided to work hard to provide for you and the baby when you told him about the pregnancy- or, rather, about his future children; some of his work truly shone and got him quite a bit of attention, and therefore - a bunch of well-paid commissions.

kaveh has fought his empathy many times and tried not to overly spend money, which resulted in him being able to create and build your house that you share together; each of the twins has their own room, decorated according to their tastes.

your children have great emotional intelligence, just like your husband; if there's ever any conflict, they rather talk about it, than pout for hours, similar with you two. kaveh teaches them to always be honest, especially to themselves. they're also talented, but in different ways - your daughter seems to be fascinated by the role of the architect as well, but your son, regardless of what he's doing - he always makes sure it's perfect and polished as much as possible.

you cannot tell me this man doesn't do some kind of weekly family time - kaveh loves his family to the bone and would risk his life to protect you and your children with no hesitation. he's very involved in his children's lives and wants to be considered as their friend as well, not just a father; kaveh wants to know what they are interested in the moment, who they had their last beef with and who their crush is. he just really wants to gossip with them lol.

contrary to what a lot of people think, the twins and alhaitham's child(ren?) get along very well, and are aware they're just mirrors of each other. they can't however, understand how they managed to live together under one roof for so long... they never complain if they visit uncle alhaitham though, as he lets them search through his library so they can find out more about their interests.

in revenge, alhaitham is the godfather of the twins, just so you know.

Zhongli:

not only did he fall in love with you, but after hearing the cry of his little girl after she took her first-ever breath - zhongli fell in love once again.

he's so, so overprotective of his baby, regardless of her age. he's swooned by her - how tiny her fingers are compared to his when she finally grips them for the first time, how every month she looks even prettier than last one - he's always by her side, making sure she's the happiest she could possibly be.

since he has to sleep only once for a few days, he's willing to spend every second with her, especially after birth - zhongli also wants you to rest as much as you can, so you can both create memories together.

he most certainly takes her on a lot of walks with you when she gets older; not only around liyue harbor, but places dear to him and her only, if they discover one.

when your daughter grows up and begins to show interest in zhongli's hobbies, he smiles at her gently and sits her in his lap, only to start explaining it and feeding her curiosity; sometimes he has to stop himself for a moment to admire her twinkling eyes.

oh he DEFINITELY does her hair every morning. he's practiced on you before, having learned many new hairstyles to later on perform on your daughter; he carefully strokes her hazel hair with golden tips with a brush, feeling as he's almost watching his own in a mirror. sometimes, he adorns her hair with his own hairpin.

xiao was definitely the first person to know about your daughter. knowing that archon blood runs in her veins, he's less worried about being around her, therefore always more willing to spend time with her. both grow from this interaction - the little one knows how to protect herself (or to call uncle xiao when she's in trouble), and xiao understands small humans just a bit better.

zhongli's thrilled to know what her favorites are - no matter if it's tea, food or fabric, he has to know! perhaps they share the same favorites?

with the help of kamera, he's now able to immortalize the sight of you and your daughter. each birthday, he takes a picture and cherishes the young years of your baby, knowing they won't last long; erosion be damned, as long as he has the pictures - he'll always remember.

Xiao:

xiao was clueless. clueless and frightened. he wasn't supposed to have a child - with a mortal on top; albeit he tries to stay calm for your and baby's sake, he wants both of you to heal well.

it took quite a bit of time for xiao to fully embrace that he's a parent - and he adapted very well, having you by his side; the only worry that hasn't gone away is the thought of harming his daughter with his karmic debt.

but so far, the little one hasn't shown any signs of it, which makes xiao more than happy. she's yet another reason to warm his cold heart up, which he always compares to being engulfed by comfy scarf in the winter.

he automatically turns his head around whenever he hears her tiny little "tap taps" with her feet; not only does he find it adorable, but he knows she once again managed to lose her slippers and socks.

listen. she inherited the same diamond mark on her forehead - and he finally understands why you always insisted you liked kissing it for no reason.

he always. ALWAYS shares his almond tofu with his baby girl.. and she always makes a mess while eating it.. but it's worth it.

your daughter seemed to have taken a liking to watching finches from a distance; they always look for a nice spot in liyue plains, make a small picnic and feed the leftover bread to the birds. she finds them so adorable to the point that xiao was looking for a finch plushie for WEEKS. that made her good friends with qiqi, whom she tries to remember as "the finch friend."

Zhongli never says it out loud, but thinks of Xiao as his son. therefore, he finally earned a title of a grandpa (though unofficial). he's very proud to see Xiao stand up in a role of not only a protector of liyue, but the ones closest to him.

yes, your daughter actually calls morax himself, grandpa. (he doesn't correct her. ever)

imagine xiao with baby carrier. now you don't have to imagine it anymore.

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Blade:

don't even say he isn't a girl dad. HE IS.

he thinks he's a mere blade whose humanity has been lost hundreds of years ago - it's nothing more but a delusion in his mind. if that was the truth, why would he stay near his daughter's crib and watch her sleep peacefully, flinching when he saw her stir in her sleep?

she's absolutely not afraid of his cold, death stare, in fact - she looks at him back, waiting him to break first. just imagine a tiny baby eating a rice waffle, blade next to her and he just.. stares at her. but she stares at him back and eats the waffle like it's nothing.

your baby girl inherited blade's hair- or rather, yingxing's pearly white hair. he often pats her head gently and goes his hand through her hair, his eyes holding a tinge of bitterness and anger; not at her, however, but at the one he's after.

since blade spends most of his time on various missions with the stellaron hunters, he tries to make it up to your daughter by giving her gifts; hairpins, stickers (ekhem, silver wolf), coloring books, you name it. he slowly warms up to the idea of spending more quality time with her - after so many missions and the thought of his family waiting for him at home, his heart longs to see you again.

sometimes.. you can catch a faint smile on his lips when he plays with her. it's a sad smile - a smile yearning for it to happen back in simpler times, before getting reduced to a weapon, or perhaps in another lifetime.

he never admits it out loud, but he gets used to the new routine a bit too comfortably. before, when it was just you - in contrast to now, when he barely closes the front door and hears his daughter sprinting to him and clinging to his leg; he picks her up and feels her squishing her cheek against his while grinning. "welcome home, daddy!" are the first words he hears - and hopes to hear until it's his time to leave.

at times, blade becomes genuinely terrified - terrified of no longer craving death and wanting to stay. it sends him in so much emotional turmoil he starts to shake; how else do you process this? after so many years of attempting to look for that one thing that finally stops your breath, only to get swarmed by the thoughts of not wanting to leave your daughter behind? what if something happens to her and there's no one to help her?

there's a thing that I can't stop thinking about: I want to leave it up to you how you name your daughter, but I feel like blade would truly like the name Mari.

he lets her decorate him with stickers. it was silver wolf's idea.

Jing Yuan:

he was blessed with a daughter, as well. and then again. and then... again.

he absolutely adores his three little girls, hellO?!?!? but if you think about it, it makes sense - almost all of them took after his personality.

there is a mandatory nap for him and his girls that no one can disturb, unless the planet is on fire or someone got you mad. they all snore quietly while cuddling their dad, one of them on his chest, second on his stomach, and last one has her face somewhere next to his hair. makes you wonder how they got in these places, considering they started sleeping beneath a pink blanket decorated with lions.

speaking of lions, mimi claims your daughters as her cubs and does not let jing yuan take them away. she loves being pet and getting small kisses from them, there's no way she gives him that amount of attention back.

jing yuan loves your daughters to death and spoils them with absolutely EVERYTHING. new plushie? will be here in a few hours. a damned rock that's stupidly expensive, holds no value but one of them liked it? he'll take five. hell, he might even buy them a dog or another lion and hope for easy consequences from you.

he's slightly scared of how fast his oldest got so good at chess.

the girls get very upset when someone mentions they have no older brother - after all, how could they forget about yanqing?

there is a high chance of him losing one of them at home. they're walking, he turns around and.. suddenly the math doesn't add up..

if it's princess tea time, it is princess tea time. fu xuan either becomes a princess or comes back later.

even though they sometimes bring a lot of trouble, jing yuan always tells them to appreciate you - when it's mother's day, they all sit down and prepare a gift for you, same for your birthday; your special days will never go unnoticed.

probably wouldn't mind having another child, but is fully prepared for another girl lol.

Luocha:

he fathered a beautiful boy and girl a few years after. none of them were planned, but very welcome by both of you.

he's.. such a doting father. he always takes care of his children well, shows them affection - especially as small babies, he can't get over their chubby cheeks and peppers them with kisses, so he could hear them giggle.

in general, I think he just. can't get enough of them when they're toddlers or even younger. he loves holding them. he loves seeing his tiny babies get curious when he prepares medicine. he loves when they extend their hand to him for seemingly no reason, so he has an opportunity to give it a kiss. ARGH

he's thrilled to share his medical knowledge with his kids, if one shows interest in it!

luocha's definitely the one to style his babies' hair, I mean have you seen this man's gorgeous locks???? he's also the one to cut it if they don't like it long.

this isn't really about the children themselves, but.. he's just so grateful that you brought them into this world?? and he makes sure you know it every day, be it through actions or words. when you gave birth to your daughter, he held her in her hands and approached you from behind, leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. "love, she's so wonderful, thank you for your hard work. I can't stop looking at her, and I wouldn't have that opportunity if I didn't meet you. I've never been more happy to meet such a person like you."

just like kaveh, he wants to be very involved in their lives. he always asks them about their day in school, if they made any friends. luocha also tries to be stern and has only one expectation as a father - he wants them to have a good, comfortable life, in which he'll assist in achieving as long as they need.

your son is very, very talkative with his dad and they could converse for hours. like for real. he's so smart, luocha is more than happy to broad his horizons, even in topics of lesser importance.

[drbased]

ok I have to talk about 'the dialectic of sex' by shulamith firestone because it was one of the first proper feminist books I read and I didn't have the confidence back then to address this book:

so this is still the only book I've read so far that actually uses the words 'radical feminist' - except her definition of this politics is essentially transhumanist luxury space communism. because her understanding is that the 'root' of women's oppression is our reproductive capacity and therefore no matter what happens society will never fully be able to share the burden of childbirth and child-rearing across both sexes.

this book feels so evocative of its time - like there was a small window of pure hope shortly after the invention of the pill and the hippy movement where everything entirely changed for women. like, think about it: up until that point unless you use some sort of condom (which men don't like using - and also not 100% effective anyway) you're basically always vulnerable to being impregnated by a man during piv, which is considered the basic form of sexual intimacy wth men, which women are expected to engage in to be considered full members of society. so women would have all been in some sort of constant state of low-key fear; one sex - or rape - away from having a child that would change their entire existence. that's got to really fuck you up, especially your relationship with your own body. and you could get an abortion but only if you're incredibly lucky, and still getting an abortion is probably more like surviving a car crash than anything - like you're glad you made it through but also you're still damaged psychologically and probably physically as well. and it's such a silent fear as well - because women are supposed to want babies and babies just happen so you're not allowed to complain that this is because your husband always wants sex and he's the one who impregnates you but if he does people say 'she got herself pregnant again'. like there's layer upon layer of psychological terrorism surrounding men's impregnation of women and that's gotta mess you the hell up.

so the invention of the pill - holy shit, just imagine it. the hope. you can take the pill in secret, you can take the power back, you're not uniquely vulnerable to your own bodily forces anymore, that gives you time to fucking think, to be alive, to feel, to feel vulnerable, to feel free. it's like literal magic. if the most basic of happenings - pregnancy - can be actually prevented, then what else can we do to the body? what else can science do for us?? how more free can we get?? It's women's first time to (ironically) feel like a god, able to transcend the body. I'm actually surprised that I've not found more writings like shulamith's - that there weren't more women spurred on by this amazing discovery into further transhumanism. I guess the problem was that women were starting to notice that whilst women were able to change their own individual lives with the pill, that wasn't making men behave any differently.

but I still find it fascinating how this definition of radical feminism hasn't survived at all. as it stands on radblr, the 'root' of women's oppression is men, and therefore the only real solution is separatism. but like, what happened to the brand of feminism that says, uhhhh isn't it actually kinda fucked up that half the human race are burdened entirely with pregnancy, birth and child-rearing? and could we maybe be freed from that if we used science to bring about children another way? I'm not even agreeing with her that that would solve everything (because regardless even if we *could* make babies in a tube, that doesn't mean all women are going to magically become infertile, and it certainly doesn't mean than men are going to be less violent against us), but I'm very interested in questioning what the 'root' of women's oppression is - because modern 'radical feminism' has a lot of gaps to allow for a simplistic narrative that I'm sure many in the community, definitely myself included, are rapidly tiring of. and I think it shows in the separatism debate, which rages on because no one can think of any other solution, because the unspoken tenet is that what the 'root' is is solved and agreed-upon, and therefore the answer is just so damn obvious that the women who don't agree must be scared and stupid. I've been wanting to address this in some form or another for years now, and I guess I'm dipping my toes in it now.

at the very least, I'd like to know if someone has a good source on where the term 'radical feminism' came from and how its meaning has evolved over the years. in ariel levy's 'female chauvinist pigs' she touches on this debate that started in the late seventies that led to the fracturing of feminism and the creation of liberal feminism - and it seems to be along these same lines of separatism vs fucking men. I've always found it odd that there's essentially no middle ground here - like you don't need to embrace 'sluttiness' in order to want to have a healthy sexual relationship with a man, but it seems the liberal feminist side chose that, meanwhile the only other 'mainstream' option seems to be separatism. obviously a lot of the women in radblr don't actually fully agree with that - but all us hetties are suspiciously silent on that subject.

to me the issues with separatism go further than simply sex with men - sure it's psychologically good for you to only purchase from women owned businesses and only read books by women etc etc, and it financially uplifts other women. but also we live under capitalism, which obscures our reliance on each other. when you buy from that woman-owned business, the person delivering your package is likely to be male, the person who assembled the vehicle he drives is likely to be male, the person who constructed the roads he drives on is likely to be male. this is not to say that men are vital - but rather, your 'separatist choice' is a fundamentally capitalistic one that exists more for your peace of mind than being anything actually radical - as in, nothing about the 'root' of women's oppression is addressed in doing so. there's no ethical consumption under capitalism yadda yadda. and only speaking to women irl is also less of a capitalist action but still ultimately an individual one. there's so much emphasis on personal actions as the height of feminism and it screams liberal individualist to me. like you took 'the personal is political' and ran with it.

but if the root of the problem is men, then that's simple, isn't it? just don't interact with men. don't have sex with men. don't pay men, apart from the men who happen to be an inescapable part of the supply chain, they will inevitably get paid by your actions anyway, but you don't have to think about that because that's what capitalism does: it makes you think you have this magical power as an indvidual to make real radical choice in the world, to 'vote with your dollar'.

I'm not exactly calling for firebombing a walmart but I'm bored with the capitalism-loving individualistic liberalism of what this community calls 'radical feminism' - but that same thought-terminating cliche keeps getting thrown at us: 'we're radical, which means we grasp at the root, and the root is male violence, so you can't call yourself a radical feminist if you don't want to do the basic things of not wearing make-up and not fucking men'. and nobody ever seems to stop and question, does any of that actually address the root of our oppression? capitalism isn't the only economic system that has ever oppressed women, but it's the one we live under, and it's very good at sneaking into the backdrop of our lives and naturalising hierarchies - capitalism becomes its own justification, e.g. women choose low-paying jobs just because that's what we gravitate to, yanno?

being genuinely anti-capitalist recomplicates politics all over again, because suddenly it's not an easy men vs women but also men vs women vs rich people, some of whom are women??? and like, what's the solution to that? do we stand with men agains the capitalist system and risk our voices getting silenced, or do we go full single-issue and just go fuck it, capitalism was created by men for themselves like solanas said, so if we stand against men then idk capitalism will just sort of fall by itself? or in reality it's just not addressed at all. separatism itself always sits there as a thought-terminating cliche in and of itself - an accusation ready to be levelled at anyone who wants to question any of these unspoken tenets of radblr. and the goal-post is ever-shifting - separatism is women's land, but if you say that's not a real solution in our capitalist interconnected world then you get accused of not wanting women's spaces because that's obviously what separatism has been about this whole time. also separatism is not fucking men, actually it's not about that it's about prioritising women (vague), and on and on and on - the argument always shifts so the word stays pure. but like, is separatism an end-goal? a political tactic? something you do to enrich your own life and psyche? something to give space for consciousness-raising? I saw someone ages ago claim that the suffragettes wanting the right to vote was somehow separatist because idk, the women were making spaces for themselves? but wanting to involve yourself in male politics is literally assimilationist, no??

I'lm going to stop rambling for now but this was good to get my thoughts out there - I enjoy my theorising in this space but I'm also deeply interested in questioning. I've noticed time and time again that discourse is always stopped by 'you're not a real radical feminist if you do/don't do x' and I've found it really odd and telling that no one's questioned that? like sure I know we've built our whole political framework on 'words mean things' but also it's always worth questioning the definition of 'radical' and what the 'root' of our oppression is, and what we can actually do to address it, and if our narratives and assumptions are too simplistic. the community would be all the better for it imho. I already think the influx of 'tirfs' in the community and the khelif debate has been opening up these unspoken simplistic narratives on the nature of gender vs sex, of socialisation vs low-key biological essentialism, and I think we can push that kind of questioning even further. ramble over.

[imnotyetfound]

My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles. 

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months. 

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other. 

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

----------------------

Summary:  Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

[nebulaafterdark]

Sooner Or Late (Part 2)

Summary: Y/N flees to the north before the start of the war. When it is over, Aegon will stop at nothing to get her back.

18+ ONLY targcest, implied dubcon, mental illness & violence

Part 1

Y/N wakes without Aegon’s warmth, something she has grown accustomed to in these past years. She craves his touch, like air to breathe. Pacing through their chambers, until voices can be heard just beyond the door.

“I love her, mother.” Aegon says, in a hushed tone.

“This is perverse, Aegon.” Alicent hisses, “she scarcely recalls her own name. Or what befell her mother, let alone her husband-”

“I am her husband!” Aegon shouts, “I am.”

“Because you slaughtered the first.”

“She needs me,” Aegon whispers.

“That is not her.” Alicent insists. “She wants nothing but what you impose upon her to want.”

“If you speak such slanders again, I will have your tongue removed.”

The cruel nature of his tone sends a chill down Y/N’s spine. Unlocking something within her she’s long since forgotten. The first…her first husband. She collapses to the floor, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. Conjuring the memory of him.

Jonathan.

The man who loved her, truly. The man she now betrays, growing Aegon’s children in her womb. And her mother…her mother hasn’t come to see her because-

The door swings open and Aegon storms in, finding his wife curled around herself on the floor. “Oh, my dearest love.” He coos, sinking down to join her. “Come here, darling.” He pulls her into his lap. “Are you alright?”

“I could not find you.” She tells him, clutching his tunic in her fist. “I was frightened.” Y/N is making a show of it, surely. She does not need Aegon. She can’t.

“There, there, my love.” Aegon tuts, “I am so terribly sorry.”

“I fear something has happened to me.”

“How do you mean?”

“I have been here too long and I’ve changed.”

“That is what you were meant to do.” Aegon assures her. “This is where you’re meant to be, that’s all. Nothing to fear.”

Y/N forces herself to nod. Knowing now more than ever she must leave, before it’s too late.

————————————————————————

Her son, Jon, is the only one made privy to her plans. The younger children she will leave to Aegon. Despite it all, she’s come to care for him but she cannot stay.

“There is a ship leaving port tonight.” Y/N says, holding her son’s hand as she breaks the news. “I should like for us to be on it.”

“And father?” Jonathan asks.

Gods no…they have been here too long. “Just us. This will be our secret.”

He nods, though he doesn’t understand.

“Go now, enjoy your toys. I must ready for the journey.”

————————————————————————

It is nearly time, Y/N makes for her son’s rooms, with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She knows the guard’s schedule well…and Aegon’s. There will be plenty of time to board the ship.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Aegon.

Her blood runs cold, turning to him with a forced smile, “to find you, my love.”

“Mmm,” he hums closing the distance between them. “Were you now?”

“The babe is restless,” Y/N takes his hand, resting it on her belly.

Aegon smiles, feeling the child stir beneath his palm, “missing their father, I’d wager.”

“Mayhaps.”

He leans in closer, until his lips brush her ear. “Imagine how terribly they’d miss me, had you gotten away with it.”

No, she shrinks away from him.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Aegon drapes both arms around her waist, holding her close, their child pressed between them. “It’s over. These fantasies you have of leaving me.” He spits the penultimate word like venom.

Y/N whimpers.

“It was our boy who warned me of your plotting. I have never been more proud. He will be rewarded handsomely.” Aegon muses, “I hope this helps you to understand, you can never leave.”

“What more do you want of me?” Y/N sobs, shifting between feet, in the small space between them.

“Everything.” Aegon takes her face between his hands.

“You have taken everything!”

“Your life should be miserable. One tragedy after another, until you learn that only my hand can spare you. But I do not wish to torture you to death.” He scoffs. “I want a life with you, why won’t you give me that?”

“You filled my head with lies. You seek to carve out all that I am, to make way for who you want me to be. Docile and subservient. If you truly love me, how could you?”

“That is the only way you’ll stay with me.” Aegon strokes his thumb over her tear stained cheek. “It is such a shame that I’ll have to break you all over again.”

Y/N shoves at him. “To the seven hells with you.”

His mouth traps hers, in a searing kiss. “There she is.” His tongue traces the seam of her lips, only to be met by her teeth. “My fiery girl.” He chuckles, “it is a pleasure to see you again.”

Aegon taglist:

@oh-you-mean-me @niyahnotnia

[livingfandomly]

This show is right out of ao3 because let me explain how serious this shit is OKAY!! Agatha is (probably) cursed with a kind of power that drains people of their magic until they’re dead. She can’t control it. Imagine the first time this happened and she’s freaking out over the body of a fellow witch who she maybe even cared about, crying, begging for the death to be reversed and suddenly there’s Rio. She came to collect the body but couldn’t stand to see this young girl in pain over a curse she can’t control, over a death she maybe didn’t actively want… Rio sees her and sees herself. More than that, Rio sees her and realises how much more pain life has in store for her. Rio can’t stand that this young girl is forced to bear the same weight that she bears and so she introduces herself to Agatha.

Agatha immediately recoils and hates her for what she’s doing. For taking away the soul of someone she didn’t mean to harm. She begs and pleads but Rio is tied to her duty and she cannot help. This happens a few more times until Agatha just breaks. Numb, she runs away from her coven, terrified of anyone finding out but even more terrified of hurting yet another person. She just runs. Rio watches from a distance. Eventually, Rio approaches her and this time instead of Agatha screaming at her and telling her to get lost, she just sits there. And as she sits there, trying to sink into her own shadow, Rio sits down next to her. Neither of them say a word. They sit in the silence of the lives they live, the lives they don’t want, the lives that make everyone around them hate them. They sit and they sit until one of them slides her hand over the other’s. Those hands go from lying against each other to intertwining, to holding onto each other as the only salvation they both know. The only person in the whole world who understands how they feel.

Agatha eventually goes back, not wanting to give up on her family and friends. She goes back and she gets pregnant or she adopts a little child. And then she gets scared. Terrified beyond reason and she realises she can’t let her powers hurt someone that precious. She begs Rio for help and, alas, Rio know this desperation. Rio also knows there isn’t much to do. But she loves her. So she tries and she searches and she hears of a book. A book that can help Agatha control her powers. But a book that can corrupt beyond evil. Rio doesn’t know what to do and before she can decide she feels it, the beckoning of a new death. Even before she leaves to find the location of the soul she knows who it is. The baby’s dead.

Agatha, beyond herself in grief and pain, tells Rio to leave her son alone. She threatens, she begs, she screams and she weeps and all Rio can do is what her curse demands of her… she takes the child’s soul. She knows in doing so she will sever a relationship that is dearest to her but she has no choice. However, even she can’t bear to see the pain she is causing Agatha so before leaving she tells her about the book. About this magic entity that can solve its readers problems. But she also tells her it’s hard to obtain and will require power and once obtained, it’s hard to control. Agatha doesn’t hear any warning all she hears is a solution and in her desperation goes to the coven for help. Instead of loved ones and supporters she finds an ambush waiting for her. An ambush led by her mother…

I mean…….. fuck me you guys but I just had to write all this down. Just a fragment of what this show is making me imagine but oh my god…….. I’m an addict and my drug is agathrio.

[squishytenya]

choose your own path <3

pairings - readers choice x gn!reader

warnings - forced proximity quirk, crying, quirk accidents, exact warnings on each character post (each character's chapter will be linked at the bottom of this post when they are written)

welcome! I've kind of always wanted to do one of these so here it is! it's kind of soulmate au inspired and each of the choices is based on a popular romance novel trope :) hope you enjoy

I have a few specific characters planned for each imagine but if there is any you would like to see - lmk and I'll write it <3

The dust flew up around your face, sitting thick in your throat and causing you to force out a cough. This was certainly not how this was supposed to go. A simple patrol, one of your first since becoming a pro, it was supposed to be nothing more than dealing with a few muggings. Instead, the shrill cries of a young girl had pierced through the night. You and your partner had shared matching looks and flown down the street as fast as you could towards the noise with your hearts racing.

As it turns out, it was not the girl you would be saving. The screaming changed as you grew closer - morphing from fear to frustration and a hint of anger. Well, as much anger as a tiny five year olds body could muster. She was running frantically around, tripping on the rubble that she had somehow pulled up from the ground with her tantrum. And she seemed to be… tapping people? Not slapping per say but placing her tiny hands on people anywhere she could reach. Every time she placed her small palm on another person's skin, her little shoulders dropped in what you realised was relief. Unfortunately, the people she had tapped in her frenzy seemed to absorb the pain. Within seconds, almost everyone in the crowd around her had been sent to their knees, groaning in agony.

You shared a look with your partner and nodded at them - stepping towards the volatile child. 

“Hey sweetie, it’s okay” you attempted to comfort her apprehensively. 

 “what’s your name?”

There was no indication, to your shock, that anyone else had tried to even converse with the toddler. The way she froze in her movements caused you to step back, until she turned her gaze on you and her brown eyes filled with tears. Her trembling body made your heart ache. Obviously, this was some kind of late quirk manifestation that had taken the poor girl by surprise. Yet, you still couldn’t understand why nobody seemed to want to get near her. 

That was, until you noticed a pale yellow glow emitting from her palms. The young girl seemed to be just as panicked at this as you felt and started to move, as if to shake the glow from her palms. Her futile attempts only caused her breathing to pick up its pace again and she stumbled.

“We can help you” you spoke soft and slow, gesturing to your partner, “you just gotta come here okay? Tell me what's got you so worked up”

The brunette girl sniffled, rubbing her face with her glowing palms. Pain curled in your chest at the sorry sight. Reaching forward, you moved your hand onto her shoulder and gripped it softly. It had been taught to you in training that younger civilians reacted well to physical contact, as it often reminded them of their parents. Not that you had paid much attention in that section of class, but you did remember some useful things. You would have to thank midnight for the tip once this is over. 

Wailing, she curled in on herself and her head rolled back. Tear-filled eyes bore into yours and she started stuttering out apologies, the soft yellow glow growing more intense. The light emitting from her hands seemed to heat up as it intensified and the air around it started wobbling like the sun on a hot day. Squinting, you moved towards her to attempt to stop her touching another person. It didn’t seem to cause too many issues but you needed to keep the public away from the girl’s grasp until you knew the full extent of her quirk. 

“I’m sorry” she screamed, in obvious pain now

“Sorry- I can’t stop it! It hurts! Want it to stop” 

Before you could stop her, she reached towards your arm with her glowing fingertips outstretched. Your partner let out a shocked sound and shot forward towards the two of you. 

It was no use, her tiny hand closed around the exposed skin of your wrist. 

And… nothing. 

Reaching behind you, you waved your frantic partner off. It wasn’t that bad, just a bit of heat. Certainly, the civilians around you were just reacting dramatically to the heat emanating from the little girl's hands. A slight tingle, sure, but nothing more than that. Honestly, you didn’t know what the other people in the area were making such a fuss about. It could probably be explained as a small energy quirk mixed with growing pains. It happened to the best of you. 

You smiled warmly at the young girl again, despite your heart pounding in your chest. Oddly enough, light and that warping heat still remained on the hand that hadn’t touched you. Hmm you thought, maybe the quirk separates in her body? The girl's squirming seemed to confirm your theory - not quite the agonising pain you had witnessed a few seconds earlier, but definitely not comfortable to her. 

Once again, your partner stood beside you and quirked an eyebrow. You shrugged in response. 

“I don’t know what the big deal is, it was a bit warm but that’s pretty much it” you explained. 

“No!” the young girl in your arms protested, “it doesn’t work like that-”

Your partner, shocked by her sudden outburst, moved closer to you. His action seemed to shock the girl huddled in your embrace and she reached towards his chest with her glowing hand. The entirety of her hand pushed against his chest, sending him reeling back at her surprising strength. Your eyebrows almost hit your hairline. That was certainly ammo to tease him with later on in your patrol, you thought to yourself. 

Blinking, you set her on the ground. The warmth emanating from your wrist sharpened, causing you to clench your fist and shake your arm. The attempt to lessen the feeling proved futile. Burning sensations travelled up your arm, engulfing the rest of your body in the curling flame. You grunted as the scorching heat flowed through you like a flow of lava in your veins. Gripping your chest now as the burning seemed to swirl around your heart, you glanced over to your patrol partner and observed he seemed to be fairing the same way you did. 

Desperately, you reached for your radio, dropping the now hysterical girl to the ground as gently as you could. Murmurs picked up in the crowd around you, obviously shocked at the immediate effect of the quirk. The metal of your radio was a cool relief against your feverish skin. 

You gasped when the receiver crackled to life. 

“Help requested” you almost sobbed, “two down in the market square… there’s been a quirk incident - we need help”

Bursts of the flame sensation flickered up to your head at this point. It felt like your whole torso had been set on fire. Sinking to your knees, you grasped your head in your hands and bit back a scream. Your chest heaved under the strain. Frantically, you gestured for the crowd to move away from you and your partner but made no attempt to move closer across to him.

“Ayami!” came a frantic voice from across the clearing. 

“Mommy!”

“Sweetie, what have you done?”

“It was an accident” the little girl was in tears now and you reached to comfort her in earnest. 

Not getting far, you clutched your hand to your chest as the flame feeling engulfed your eyes - spreading bright yellow into your vision. The young girl's cries were still ringing in your head as your eyes closed and you hit the cold ground. 

-

Your head was swimming. There was no way of telling how long you had been out but your body held the same exhaustion as it did when a fever had just broken. The light above you was industrial and way, way too bright for your very tired eyes. 

“They’re awake”

You grunted. 

“Wish I wasn’t”

A familiar snort rang out across the space you were in. 

“At least we can rule out a change in their charming personality.”

“Fuck off Katsuki” 

You raised your middle finger in the general direction of the comment, eliciting a snort once again. You supposed you had to get up and face the world at some point. If you were safely in hospital, it most likely meant that the young girl from the night before had been contained. 

“The girl,” you murmured, “she okay?”

The person next to you (mina, you assumed by the smell of her perfume) kissed their teeth - a less than comforting noise. You groaned again, this would probably require way more paperwork from you than you were prepared to do right now.

“Yeah, she’s fine - the old lady’s got something to tell you though.”

–

“You’re shitting me right?”

Recovery girl cast you a look over the rim of her glasses. Cringing, you began to apologise to the smaller woman but she cut you off. 

“I’m sorry to tell you, but you will have to remain close to him” she explained, “we don’t know when the quirks effect will wear off, none of the civilians are back to normal yet”

You huffed, crossing your arms against your chest. This was just your luck really, exactly what you needed after a week of night shift patrols and shitty takeout dinner. The poor girl in the street had some kind of tethering quirk, none of the civilians hit had been able to separate themselves from each other for longer than five minutes without that burning sensation coming back full force. Each time she touched someone with one other hands, whoever she touched with the other was stuck with them until someone could figure this quirk out. 

They’d been essentially sorted into pairs by the girl’s quirk. Like the game snap! Your brain helpfully supplied. The maximum distance they could go without hurting each other was a mere 8 feet. 

8 feet was not enough space for you. 

You and your partner had only patrolled together twice and now you were stuck within a room's distance of him the whole time. Sure, it was better than whatever that feeling was - but you were less than happy about it. 

Knock knock. 

Speak of the devil and he appears. You knew he was due to come in because the warm, mildly painful, tingle had started up again on the same wrist. Brilliant, this is my life now. 

You looked up and made eye contact with your partner… 

bakugou part one // part two

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the twinkle lights

lilac, chapter fifteen

a/n: yes that is lorelai gilmore in that moodboard and yes that scene those are screenshots from is partly the inspo for this chapter.

summary: “Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now. The last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, alcohol consumption (not by reader though), fluffy phone call

word count: 2049

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As yet another heavy sigh flowed from your lips, you tried to force your tense shoulders to relax as you felt the steam, from the coffee cup centimetres away from your mouth, kiss your weary features. 

Hidden away in the corner of the inn’s kitchen, you sat slumped on a small stool, the one usually tended for reaching the stuff in the upper cabinets. But just as you took your next sip, keeping it small so as to draw out the eventual emptiness and the fate that came with it, the doors swung open and in burst the rotund visage of Donna, all done up from the bottom of her clacking heals to the peals hanging low from around her neck.  

“What’s up, sluts!” her booming voice caused your father to jump and the piping bag in his grasp to nearly slip, though the entrance didn’t affect the sheriff who leaned against the far counter. His gaze stayed directed out the window where rows of foldout chairs were half set up. The remaining bubbles in Donna’s slender, lipstick-stained glass sloshed around as her eyes beheld the towering cake standing on the central worktable. And like a child, the inebriated woman couldn’t keep her fingers to herself as she reached out and swiped her finger through one of the swirly flowers piped around the tiers, “uh! Yum!”

But before she could bring the treat up to her lips, Harvey’s hand tapped over hers as he snapped, “no! Don’t you even dare!” raising up a finger and waving it in her face as he warned, “I have been working on this all week and I will not let you ruin it the last second!”

“Urgh, Harv, you’re so uptight, darling,” she rolled her eyes then held out her champagne flute, “here, why don’t you have a little glass of bubbly to calm your nerves?”

“Donna, just–,” you could almost make out the steam that spewed out of his ears, “get out of my kitchen! The rest of the night you’re not allowed in here or else–… or else…” he rapidly lost all of his gumption as he struggled and improvised a threat, “I’ll–… I’ll have Otto arrest you!”

Clearly not paying attention at all, Otto finally turned to face the rest as he overheard his name, “huh?” he raised his cosmopolitan up to his lips and took a small sip, “did you just say something about me?”

“Hah,” Donna laughed condescendingly, “sure he is, honey,” muttering as she sashayed around the kitchen table, “that’s funny… Otto, arrest me, his best friend of nearly 40 years, that’s–, oh!” her murmuring came to a screeching halt as she rounded the cake and your obscured figure came into her field of vision, “Y/n! There you are, you naughty, naughty girl! I heard a scrumptious little rumour that you were swapping saliva with a certain lumberjack in the Lilac Inn’s very own lobby just a few days ago… so, tell me, is he as great as I’d imagine?”

Exhaling lowly, you didn’t have the energy to humour her, “I thought you said you’d help with the decorations.” 

“Oh, I persuaded a few of the groomsmen to finish up the final touches for me.”

“You–, okay, alright, sure…” you begrudgingly took the last drink of your coffee and set it down on the table, “I give up.”

Turning to the small-town sheriff and causing her party dress to swoosh in the process, Donna smirked, “hey, did you see the groom’s uncle? The bald one? I heard he’s recently divorced… you wanna go hunt him down?”

With the hand not clutching his pink drink, Otto linked arms with Donna and said, “sure, why not,” before the eccentric duo disappeared out the side door that led into the garden.

With now only yourself and your father remaining in the kitchen, you puffed out a long exhale before pulling yourself up to your feet, the soles aching slightly from how much you’d been running around. 

“You alright, pumpkin?” Harvey lifted his gaze from his crouched position next to the tall dessert, bending over so close that his moustache nearly touched it as he kept a close eye on the whimsical patterns he slowly decorated on the white wedding cake. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, patting his shoulder gently as you passed, “just wish I had time for a longer break… wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” he called after you before you pushed the doors to the dining room open. 

The wall of noise hit you at once as you exited the kitchen, like running straight into a brick building. It was like a storm of music and loud conversations all throughout the packed inn. Willing your fists to unclench, you tried to prolong the purposely deep breaths you’d focused on just minutes before. 

Casting your glance out the tall windows, you spotted a few men, half in their suits, the jackets thrown off and the cuffs rolled up, stringing up twinkle lights from one tree to another. Swiftly, your gaze travelled further down and zeroed in on the set tables before you, across the neatly folded napkins and the various names on the place cards, one of the centrepieces especially caught your tense eye. Because of the immense stress you were already enduring, the slight askew nature of the vase, of both white and pastel purple lilacs you’d cut just this morning, made you feel as if drawing in a proper breath was the most difficult thing in the world.

Rushing to adjust it, even if it was just an inch, it still managed to bring a minuscule bubble of peace to your mind, sadly one that swiftly burst when two kids stormed through the room, one of them waving a sear piece of white cloth of his head. Promptly discerning what precisely it was they were playing with, you caught them right before they managed to rush back out of there. 

“Wow!” you held them by the shoulders and kneeled down to be at their level, “hey, you two,” you tried your hardest to lighten your tone, “you mind giving that veil to me?” 

“No, it’s mine!” the small boy clutched it to his chest. 

“Okay, uhm,” you sighed, trying not to lose your patience in front of these children, come off as some scary fairy-tale witch and make them cry, “how about you give me this so that I can return it to Emma and then I tell you where the secret, magic swing is?” 

“A magic swing?” the slightly taller girl’s eyes grew wide, “where?”

“It’s gonna cost you if you wanna know,” you held out your hand.

“Hmm,” the young boy squinted his eyes a moment before he cracked, “fine,” and gave you the veil, “where is it?”

“Behind the gazebo and in the direction of the pond,” you straightened back up and folded the accessories gently, “right there’s a huge tree with a swing on it.”

As they scurried off as fast as their little feet could take them, you turned and marched out into the lobby with your eye set on the grand staircase, but before your hand even reached the bannister, a frazzled man stopped you. 

“Hey, miss?” however just as he called for you, the sound of your ringtone buzzed in your pocket, “miss?” 

Fishing out your phone and not looking at the ID, you picked it up and briefly spoke into it, “hold on,” before twisting it away from your lips and turning to the mousy-looking man, “yes?”

Holding up a crisp white shirt, he pointed to one of the cuffs, “one of my buttons fell off and I–“

“Okay, hang on one second, I’ll find you a sewing kit. I just need to return this to the bride first,” you held up the veil.

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded and backed off into the sitting room to the side.

Beginning your ascend of the stairs, you turned your haphazard attention back to the phone, “hello?”

“Y/n?” Frank’s deep timbre flowed from the phone and seeped into your very core, “is this a bad time?”

Passing a few rowdy bridesmaids on the steps, they nearly bumped into you and caused you not to comprehend a single one of the words Frank had just said, “what?”

“I asked if this is a bad time,” he repeated as you reached the top of the steps, but as you did, the shrill wail of a baby, cradled in its mother’s arms, pierced your very soul. 

“I–, uhm, what?” you whipped your head around and spotted the hall closet off to the side, “I’m sorry, just one second,” and rushed to duck into it. The thin wall didn’t manage to drown out all of the noise, but it did get quiet enough for you to finally hear yourself think again. Switching on the dull lightbulb, “fuck…” you let yourself slide down the length of the door till you sat on the floor, “there,” you exhaled slowly, “hi, now I can hear you. What’s up?”

“Are you alright over there?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now,” resting the veil in your lap, you stretched out your legs, “the last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s you,” his smile shined clear through in his low voice, “you could easily pull off wearing jeans to a wedding if you’d like.”

Feeling the corners of your lips gently tug upwards at his words, you breathed out, “so, did you just call to talk about the fact that I’m still in jeans and not the jaw-dropping green dress I got, or was there something else you wanted?”

“I just called to check in, see how you were holding up, but also to make sure you’re still up for tonight.”

Letting your spine rest back against the door, you shared, “honestly, the thought of going over to yours as soon as this is all over and they don’t need me anymore is the only thing getting me through the day without having a fucking meltdown…”

Letting a low sigh flow from his lips, you heard him ask, “you sure you don’t need me to get over there?”

“You’re sweet, but no, it’s alright,” you smiled, your fingers gently fiddling with the veil, “actually, it’s probably good that you’re not here. With the way Donna’s already enjoying herself with the champagne, you might end up as her next husband before the couple says I do.”

“Oh,” he swiftly mirrored the laugh that bubbled out of you, ��well in that case.”

After the chuckling had died back down, you tried your best to sink into the quiet completely and enjoy the fleeting pause his phone call had granted you. 

After the moment of comfortable silence had come to a close, Frank’s voice flowed from the phone once more, “So, tell me,” the playful nature in his tone was still blatantly clear for you to pick up on, “just how jaw-dropping is that dress of yours?”

“Well,” you bit down on our grin, “I won’t be able to wear a bra with the kind of neckline that it has… and with the way that it falls on me, I might not be able to wear underwear as well,” that wasn’t true in the slightest, but he didn’t have to know if you’d slipped them off before you even put the dress on or mere moments before stepping out of the car to see him. The thought of him imagining you without them the entire night was far too enthralling not to entertain, “would be such a shame if the dress got ruined by distracting lines, wouldn’t it?”

As you heard him puff out a gravelly breath, “fuck me…sweetheart, you’re killing me here…” you simply giggled in return, “uhm, when was it again that you’ll be done?”

“Not completely sure, some time after dinner properly. I’ll send you a text when I head out.”

 “Alright.”

“You want me to try and steal some cake with me? We might need a snack a little later…”

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled, “you planning on working up an appetite, are you?”

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