#info travel express

[honeykaes]

futile cure

mara-struck!jing yuan x reader II 4.5k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no pronouns, heavy angst, multiple major character deaths, can be read as yandere, monsterfucking, handjob, blowjob, deep throating, creampie, rough sex, info might be wrong because i haven’t completed 2.4 story quest yet, unedited

synopsis: with jing yuan’s blessing, you left the xianzhou’s luofu to join the astral express crew and follow the trailblaze. one hundred years later, the newly appointed general, yanqing reached out to you in desperation. Your former boyfriend is now mara-stricken

The air around the Express was lively as folks chimed with champagne, laughter, and music. Another world was saved, and another Stellaron crisis was averted.��

You sat at a table with two others who had been on the Express for the longest time, Dan Heng, the incarnation of the once-feared Dan Feng, and the living Stellaron himself, Caelus.

The three of you were focused on the 3 young crew members that recently joined, bickering and teasing one another in the corner of the train car. The corner’s of Dan Heng’s lips curved up, admiring the young group. His olive eyes drifted down to his cup, swishing the liquid side to side in thought.

“Y’know they’re bickering the same way you and March used to,” Dan Heng murmured. Caelus chuckled, leaning his elbow against the table. He rested his hand against his cheek in amusement.

“Kinda weird, we're the old ones now. Does that make me Mr. Yang and you Miss Himeko?” Caelus joked. You rolled your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you wish. You still act as goofy and immature as ever, Caelus,” you retorted. Dan Heng sighed, looking off at the group of young travelers again.

“...I miss them. Miss Himeko, Mr. Yang, March…” he trailed off. The three of you remained silent as music played out, along with whatever the other group was talking about. Seeing them so happy after completing their second mission brought nostalgia. It seemed just yesterday that you all were in their positions.

Your gaze softened, looking at Pom Pom reprimanding them for being too loud. 

”I do too. Sometimes I wish all lifeforms had the same lifespan.” you murmured, looking at your own reflection in your drink. Caelus' face momentarily lit up, as an idea popped into the eccentric's head.

“Y'know what. Why don’t we go back to one of the worlds we used to like old times! Penacony! Jarilo-IV! Oh! Even your hometowns in Xianzhou Alliance’s Luofu!” Caelus suggested. Your heart churned hearing him say the Luofu. It had been decades since the crisis there where you had left to join the Astral Express, leaving your former boyfriend behind with his blessing.

You could still remember his soft gaze and sad smile, holding his hand with your own:

“The heart of a gentleman cares not about his own selfish desires, but of all that it encompasses from his breadth of heart.”

You hadn’t seen Jing Yuan in ages. You had heard he had retired and his apprentice—now grown—took the mantle of his position but you were too busy saving a world to attend the ceremony.

”...Personally, I prefer not to. However, (Y/n), I think it might be beneficial for you. Catch up on your old friends and see him again might do you some good. Although we are trailblazers, some of us with homes can get homesick. These opportunities are rare,” Dan Heng suggested.

Caelus quickly grabbed his drink, shooting it back and slamming it back down to the table. 

”Exactly! So, are we in agreement to go to the Luofu?” Caelus murmured, nudging you. You opened your mouth to retort to the drunken human stellaron but your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Your elbow nudged his stomach as he groaned before you lifted your phone up to see the message.

Your eyes widened, lips parted seeing the message on your phone. It was from Yanqing. You hadn’t spoken to him in years.

As the general, he rarely reached out to you. Even prior to his promotion, you could tell he held some animosity towards you for choosing the path of the Trailblaze and leaving his master, Jing Yuan. 

You couldn’t blame the child, just bore his unapproving gaze with a sad smile.

”Please come to the Luofu when you can. It’s important and I need your help. Only you can help him.”

Your heart sank as your grip on your device tightened. Out of all scenarios, there was one you could think of that Yanqing would bite his pride and reach out to you. But part of you didn’t want to believe it. It would make it real.

”What are you so focused on all of a sudden?” Caelus murmured, looking over your shoulder before getting quiet. You pulled your phone back and placed it on the table. Caelus peered at you with sympathetic eyes as Dan Heng’s narrowed in confusion.

“(Y/n)?” he asked, confused about your sudden somber and worried expression. You get up from your seat, the joy of the celebration completely gone leaving nothing but fear, longing, regret, and worry.

”Pom Pom,” you called out. The group of young travelers looked at you, noticing the change of your tone.  The small conductor turned to you, leaning his head to the side in confusion.

“Yes, Mx (Y/n)?”

“Please set a course to head to the Xianzhou's Luofu.”

Docking at the Luofu ship you could feel your heart beating a mile per minute. You felt light-hearted, stomach churning from the amount of anxiety bubbling throughout your body. Yanqing would only reach out to you for something serious.

Had something happened to him? He seemed fine when you last visited, but that was decades ago…

”Jing Yuan…” you muttered, looking down on the ground. Dan Heng had convinced the group to stay on the Express for the time being. The boys you had known for so long knew you wanted to handle this alone. You’d have to thank him later.

Disembarking alone onto the ship, you could barely focus on the hustle and bustle of the square. Your pace was fast, gaze scanning and looking for someone familiar.

You finally focused on the tall young man with arms. His hair was long and tight in a low ponytail. When he opened his eyes, the familiar amber greeted you back. Your eyes softened as you approached him.

“Yanqing! you grew up. Oh! Wait, I guess I should call you General Yanqing now,” you chuckled awkwardly. Yanqing forced a smile, his brow furrowed from stress. You could see the bags under his eyes, from countless restless nights. Whatever this was, it was truly getting to the newly appointed general. 

“Yanqing, what’s wrong…” you asked. The Cloud Knights adjacent to him looked to the General as he sighed.

”Let’s speak in my office, away from noisy ears and gazes,” he replied. You were caught off guard, by how deep his voice was. He had changed so much that the young apprentice who used to always come to you about stories of Jing Yuan.

As the two of you reached his office, you noticed a woman sitting on his desk. Your eyes narrowed trying to pinpoint where you recognized her, before a small smile appeared on your face.

”Yunli? Is that you?” you asked. Her eyes lit up as she gave you a polite smile..

 “(Y/n), it’s nice to see you. I hope this blockhead hasn’t been too rude to you,” she replied. Yanqing grunted at her response.

”Not the time, Yunli!: he barked. She rolled her eyes, unamused at the blond.

”I don’t care!” she seethed. “The idiot is still prideful but I was hoping he, at least, bit his pride and contacted you.”

She strummed her hand along the wooden desk in irritation. You could see a silver band on her finger. Once again, it seems you missed a lot in your time Trailblazing. You turned to look at Yanqing once more.

“Yanqing, what’s going on?” you asked again. Yanqing massaged his brow, lips parting as he tried to find the right words.

”Master, he…” he struggled. “You know about Jingliu, his master, right?” 

Your eyebrow furrowed. You could recall his somber face as he told you stories about her. She was an accomplished warrior who was a part of the High Cloud Quintet. Dan Feng's sin led him to his next incarnation, Baiheng died, a newly immortal Yingxing became the barely quelled mara-stricken Stelleron Hunter Blade, and Jingliu got mara-struck as well and went mad…

Leaving Jing Yuan by himself. 

But it was not as though you could judge, you ended up leaving him too.

”Yes…”

”...Jing Yuan is mara-struck.”

Time seemed to pause as those words continued to ring out. Mara-struck? Mara-struck? Haha no. He couldn’t��could he really? This is what you feared when you got that message from Yanqing.

”What do you mean by that,” you whispered, struggling to process the information. Yanqing looked at Yunli and sighed.

“When Jing Yuan retired, it was because the mara was getting to him and affecting his cognitive abilities,” he responded. “To not cause panic with the public, I and a few others said he had retired before I was promoted as the new General.”

You balled your fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palms.

”...He had been suffering for that long and you didn’t tell me Yanqing!” you out. Yanqing tightened his jaw, Adam's Apple bobbing as he tried quelling his dry throat in shame.

“You were so busy going off and traveling! I didn’t think you cared or had the time to care!” he shouted back.

”You should have told me! I would have come back to the Luofu for him!” you barked back. Yanqing’s nostrils flared as he took a step forward.

”Yet you still left the Luofu despite Master!” he shouted back. The two of you stared each other down. Your chests were heaving, ready to yell, shout, and bicker; whatever insult and claims that came next but neither one retorted. Soon, the anger in both of your eyes subsided back into pain and shame. Both of your gazes shifted away.

”...Where is he” you whispered, eyes fluttering to stop any tears threatening to drip down.

”.Held in a secure solitary confinement. The knights I have patrolling that area have said he has been getting more aggressive. We don’t think we have much time before he tries to escape,” Yanqing admitted.

It was beginning to get harder to bat away the tears as you shook your head at the new information. You always thought you would greet Jing Yuan with that lazy smile of his again. Not…a monster, an abomination of Yaoshi’s. 

”.What do you want me to do then?” you asked. Yanqing paused as Yunli sighed and got up from her seat, walking next to him. 

”Those soldiers have heard him call your name at night. For some reason, your name has a soothing effect on him. Makes him…almost normal again. As normal as you can get being mara-struck, I guess,” Yunli revealed.

Her hands weaved with Yanqing who struggled to come up with words. Yunli clicked her tongue gazing at him before turning back to you.

”.Yanqing, thought it was best for you to come. As a last effort to try to quell the mara within him. If this doesn’t work, he will be forced to subdue his master to protect the Luofu and Xianzhou Alliance,” she murmured. Yanqing's eyes closed at Yunli’s blunt words. 

You looked down on the ground. 

Jing Yuan. Jing Yuan who always pulled you back in bed, lazily cuddling with you whenever it was time for you two to get up. Jing Yuan who would tease you with Tanghulu, stealing the last fruit without you realizing it. Jing Yuan who got you to hand the sparrows that seemingly always loved to land on him. 

Jing Yuan whose lips dragged across your ear, whispering how much he admired you.

Jing Yuan who was the first person to tell you they loved you.

“Mx (Y/n)?” Yunli called out. You snapped out of your thoughts, quickly wiping away the tears that managed to spill out.

“Yes! Sorry, Yunli. Continue…. “ you replied. Although Yunli’s mouth opened to respond the next words were not heard but Yanqing

”Will you go and see him, please…” Yanqing begged in a broken whisper. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

”Yes, but with stipulations…”

Out of the places of the Luofu, you had explored and aventured, this was the first place you had never gone.

The secret unit had over five levels of security clearance and four levels underground. There was specialized personal guarding the only entry point. You and Yanqing walked in silence until you finally reached the final floor, where there was a single cell.

In the corner, Jing Yuan curled himself into a ball on the bed. His hair was wild and unkempt, but pieces of glowing ginkgo leaves seemed to be growing from it.

Yaoshi’s curse was claiming another.

Yanqing looked at you, eyes worried.

”Are you sure about this…” he murmured. You try to give him an encouraging smile to subside his fears.

”I’m positive…” you murmured.

Yanqing silently nodded as he opened the door to the former general’s cell. Jing Yuan didn’t move or react. You walked into the cell before the door was shut behind you.

”12 hrs. Remember, no one is allowed in here until then. Okay?” you called out behind the iron bars. Yanqing hesitated but nodded.

“Knights, clear out this level and guard the one before it,” Yanqing yelled out. 

“Yes, General!” they all shouted in unison. The Cloud Knights in the area stood rigid and saluted before making their way up the stairs with him, leaving you and Jing Yuan alone.

You turned to him as he slowly uncurled himself, laying on his bed. His head had leaned against the concrete wall, a collar on his neck, wrist, and ankles. 

You had heard in some cases, Luofu technology for high-risk prisoners would include these mechanics to induce an electrical shock but knowing Jing Yuan and his extreme power, it probably didn’t work on him.

His eyes finally met yours, narrowed and calculative—not the lazily warm way he used to. The biggest shock was how red they were, like freshly spilled blood than the warm golden light of the sun they used to be.

“You, why do you seem familiar? Who are you,” he grunted. You forced yourself to smile, gaze softening.

“Jing Yuan. It’s me. I know it’s been awhile. My hair might’ve changed a bit, but it’s me…” you whispered. You reached your hand and placed it on his cheek. As he recoiled back about to plant a counter attack on you, you could see him pause. He cautiously leaned back into your touch, eyes gazing up in your searching.

”...(Y/n)? You stayed. You didn’t leave after all!” he murmured. You could feel your heart shattered, as he grinned, wrapping his arms around you. His head leaned into the nape of your neck. 

”I’m so happy you decided to stay after all. I didn’t want to be selfish and prevent your dream from seeing other worlds in an attempt to find a solution to Yaoshi’s curse…” he whispered, hugging you tighter. “But I wanted nothing more for you to just be by my side…”

He leaned away, eyes now an orange hue, mind, and body fighting against the mara in his system. He leaned away, grabbing your waist. His once usual lazy grin on his pale face.

”Marry me…”

”Jing Yuan...”

”Marry me…please. I’ll find you the best ring I can tomorrow, so forgive me for being so forward. I want to spend these centuries with you, and you being here in front of my eyes proves we are meant to be with each other,” he murmured.

You couldn’t stop yourself from breaking down in tears hearing his confession. You had left wanting to find a cure, to fight against an Aeon, to see Jing Yuan happy that no one else in Xianzhou would have to fear being mara-struck, but you found yourself here.

The one person you feared most getting it, without anything to show for your travels. How did you think you could compete against an Aeon? Perhaps this was Yaoshi’s personal punishment to you.

Jing Yuan sighed, getting up. His chapped lips kissed the salty stream of tears from your cheeks.

”Shhh, qīnàide. Why are you crying, my love? This should be a happy moment,” he cooed. You shook your head, lips quivering as you hiccuped and struggled to stammer words out.

”Jing Yuan, I love you too. Of course, I would marry you but…”

”No but’s. You said yes…” he teased. You placed your hands on his cheeks, pleading with him. You pressed your forehead against his, hoping your touch would ground him.

“Jing Yuan, I did end up leaving. I still haven’t found a cure for mara…for you, for everyone suffering on the Xianzhou. It’s been over 100 years since I left and joined the Astral Express.”

”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Your blurry vision looked up to see Jing Yuan. His eyes were red again, but they gazed softly against yours. He brought his hand down, gently caressing your soft hair.

”I know. I’m sorry for being confused at first. I’m sorry you’re seeing me in this state, but I still meant what I said,” Jing Yuan sighed as he brought your crying form on his chest, lying beneath the uncomfortably small bed.

”...I’m not going to be able to stop this, am I?” you asked the now fluid Jing Yuan. He flashed a somber smile. 

“...No.”

“Yanqing…”

“I know…”

You paused not knowing what to say.

“...I do have a favor to ask you though. However long we have to be together…” he murmured 

“Marry me. Be mine for an hour, a day, anything. I’m just happy to have you in my arms once more.” he murmured. Lifting his hand to wipe more tears. His nails were sharpened and black.

”...Anything for you, Jing Yuan.”

His lips reached over and kissed you. Hand gliding up your sides as if to remember the feel of your skin beneath his touch. His large palms found a way beneath your shirt, guiding the fabric over your head and onto the ground. 

He grabbed a handful of your chest. Lips moving away from your lips and trailing on your jaw and neck. You could feel his teeth were sharper than before, the tip of his canines grazing the sensitive subtle areas of your neck.

Jing Yuan easily ripped through his thin shirt, revealing areas where the mara could be physically seen, botches of his skin beginning to blacken and glow in golden hue.

Your hands gently glide down his large pectorals and abdomen, resting at the waist of his loose pants. Your hand darted beneath his pants, feeling his heavy cock beginning to rise from your touch.

Jing Yuan’s whole body shuttered before letting a grunt out. You tightly gripped his length, pulling it in a rhythmic motion as his breaths got heavier and heavier. Precum budded at his tip, as his cock quivered from your jerks.

You shimmied his pants down, as his cock slapped against his abdomen. You leaned down, poking your tongue out to lick the slit of its head. Jing Yuan grunted, eyebrows furrowed. His nails buried in the thin mattress of the bed, desperately trying to control himself.

Kissing his tip, you opened your mouth engulfing his length to your mouth. Salty yet sweet precum was already leaking down to your tongue. His grip was getting tighter, as an almost unhuman growl came from him.

“F-Fuck, darling!” Jing Yuan choked out with his head hung back to the wall. He desperately tried to quell his desires, wanting nothing more than to pull your head all the way down till he felt the back of your warm, wet throat. 

You bobbled your head up and down, fingers drifting down your pants. Noticing this, Jing Yuan easily ripped the fabric—exposing your slit, drooling and waiting for him. As your tongue hit a prominent vein at the back of his cock, his body became more rigid— gingko beginning to glow more. 

His large fingers swiped a finger between your folds and let it nudge against your throbbing clit with every stroke. Feeling your slick dripping down your inner thighs and his finger, he pushed past your puffy folds and slid it inside your dripping pussy. You bit your lip, barely muffling a moan feeling him pump. His eyes lapped up every shiver and moan from your lips. Memories of the times he had claimed you coming back to him. 

He could feel your cunt fluttered down on his fingers drilling inside of you. 

He wanted more. 

He wanted to make up for these hundreds of years of not being beside you.

“...(Y/n)!!” Jing Yuan grunted. He let his desires finally get to him as his hand went down to your head, pushing you deeper against his cock surprising you, as you slightly choked. His hips slightly bucked, as you grabbed onto his thighs nostrils flaring to try and breathe.

His hips jolted as ropes of thick cum shot to the back of your throat. You tried swallowing, but it felt like a never-ending stream. Eventually, you lifted your head coughing as his essence streamed down your lips. His pace continued to be brutal, letting his thumb rub tight circles against your clit as your thighs squeezed together.

“That’s how I remember you. Come now, let me be reminded of that cute expression of yours,” he cooed. Your body shivered as your back arched, finally reaching your high with his name echoed from your lips. Jing Yuan smiled, sliding out of your pulsating cunt.

Jing Yuan repositions themselves, hovering on top of his still-hardened cock. It was still twitching as the veins wrapped around it throbbed in excitement.

Cock teased against your slit, nudging the top against your needy clit repeatedly as it burned in stimulation. 

Catching your breath and looking down, you noticed his cock was unusual. In the darkness, you couldn’t tell much difference but observing it now, you could. You recalled him being long, and thick, with a few moles decorated near the base. It had a gradient now, his pale skin turning into an obsidian hue. His veins were golden, with every pulsate the light would brighten and dim. 

“I finally get to have you again…” he whispered out almost in ecstasy, moving on top of you.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance back and forth. Your body jolted as he slowly entered inside of you. You sucked a breath in, feeling him stretch you out wider and wider as he plunged deeper. 

Jing Yuan hummed,  letting his fingers swirl against your clit once more trying to distract you from the dull pain. A moan escaped your lips as he eventually bottomed out, tip hitting against your cervix.

Not even giving you time to get used to him, Jing Yuan began thrusting hard inside of you. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, fingers digging into the cheap sheets. The bed squeaked and moaned, wood hitting against the concrete wall with the rapid pace he had set.

His lips connected with your neck, sucking and nibbling the skin. His canines, poke you every so often. A groan escaped Jing Yuan’s lips, addicted to the feeling of having your cunt squeeze him, trying to milk every drop from him. His balls smacked against your ass as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

Lost in the pleasure, Jing Yuan let one of his hands go from your hips, noting the crescent moons from his sharp nails already developing there before grabbing onto your chin. He was drinking up your expressions. The way your lips curled and shouted his name. The light sheen of sweat on your skin. The smell of your perfume mixed with sex in the air.

He drank up one hundred years' worth like a man starving.

“I love you…I love you…I love you...I love you…” he grunted. His groans were becoming more and more unnatural and inhumane, as you desperately clung onto him.  

Your velvety walls squeezed tight feeling the ridges of his cock rub against that mouth-watering spot inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist in a futile attempt for him to get even deeper. 

His cock twitched inside of you as he propelled his cock inside of you faster. With his continued ministrations on your clit, it wasn’t long until you reached your second climax wrapping your arms around him.

He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trail of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.

You caught your breath as Jing Yuan’s gaze shifted to the side, seemingly colder before meeting yours once more and warming up again. You brushed your hand against his white hair clinging to his forehead.

“...Will you be leaving again soon? I’m sure you can’t stay in my cell forever. 12 hours right?” he asked, placing his palms on top of yours that were on his cheeks. You could feel his cock still pulsating inside of you, his lazily bucking into you every so often.

“...Yes, but then in 24 hours I’ll see you again. I’m staying, this time. I promise. I’m going to make you better and make up for all that time,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around him. Jing Yuan merely stared at the wall, crimson mara-struck eyes narrowing before turning to you and smiling.

“As long as you remain in the Luofu, by my side, I will be happy…” he replied.

The world seemed almost grey, your mind as foggy as a cloud. You don’t know how long you have been crying for. You just knew your eyes were puffy and stung from how much you had. 

A few days after you saw him, Jing Yuan went to the point of no return. Many soldiers were lost in the chaos of it all. 

Despite your visits, and him acting…mostly normal with you. Whenever you would leave, you’d hear reports the next day on how aggressive he had gotten. It only took three days for him to try to escape.

Reports read that he was set on leaving with you, no matter what it took. Yelling how he had to make it to the Express to see you. Or how you were waiting for him in your old shared apartment together. How you had promised you would come back to him. 

Seeing you in the flesh and leaving again and again, even for short periods, left Jing Yuan’s mara-struck form desperate to get you back again and feel “normal”. His sanity finally had gone, leaving nothing but the mara to control your once beloved boyfriend.

Yanqing gave the last blow last night in a hard fought battle.

There wouldn’t be any more visits and the hope of finding a cure. He is gone, for good now.

Yunli had given you a key to his old place, insisting to get anything before the Cloud Knights removed everything.

Yet you found yourself curled into his old apartment and bed gazing at the unsent letters hidden in his desk drawer. Stacks of them for years. You could hear his voice telling you about his day, what he was working on, how Yanqing was improving, how he missed Jingliu

…How he missed you.

How he wished he actually proposed.

How he wished he started a family with you.

But most of all, how he wished to see you happy.

“It’s okay though. As much longing in my heart I have, I feel pride knowing you are saving other words and looking to help the Xianshou people. Whenever I look to the stars, I think of you. I love you. I wish I could see your smile right now.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[botanicalsword]

Mercury in Houses & Signs - How does Mercury govern their languages, tones, thoughts?

♡♡♡

❥ Mercury in Houses

Mercury in the 1st House - Enhances intellect and self-awareness, often prone to overthinking

Mercury in the 2nd House - Skilled in negotiation, places importance on financial matters

Mercury in the 3rd House - Excellent communication skills, enjoys traveling

Mercury in the 4th House - Values family and home life

Mercury in the 5th House - Proficient in intellectual games, enjoys performing

Mercury in the 6th House - Emphasizes health and well-being

Mercury in the 7th House - Values and admires an intelligent partner

Mercury in the 8th House - Enjoys studying mysticism and has the ability to uncover secrets

Mercury in the 9th House - Likes to enrich oneself through reading

Mercury in the 10th House - Mostly engaged in intellectual and research-oriented work

Mercury in the 11th House - Has a larger circle of friends

Mercury in the 12th House - Prefers to keep their thoughts and ideas hidden

❥ Mercury in signs

Mercury in Aries - they tend to speak directly and lack patience and sometimes are stubborn with their words.

Mercury in Taurus - they are shrewd and conservative in their speech. They carefully choose their words. They are good at leaving themselves room to maneuver.

Mercury in Gemini - they are skilled at communication and may use a mix of truth and fiction in their speech.

Mercury in Cancer - they are are sensitive and empathetic communicators, they avoid using harsh words when they genuinely like someone. They prioritize maintaining emotional connections in their communication.

Mercury in Leo - They have a strong desire to be seen as right and may express themselves boldly and confidently, sometimes even exaggerating their points to prove themselves correct.

Mercury in Virgo - They are known for their precise and clear communication style. They express themselves with clarity and attention to detail, ensuring that what they say aligns with what they think. They value accuracy and practicality in their speech.

Mercury in Libra - They are skilled at sweet-talking and using tactful language. However, their ability to follow through on their words may vary, as they prioritize maintaining harmony and balance in their relationships.

Mercury in Scorpio - they are sarcastic and may disregard others' feelings. They have a sharp and sarcastic communication style. They may disregard the feelings of others unless they have a deep emotional connection. They are often straightforward and unafraid to speak their minds, even if it may come across as harsh.

Mercury in Sagittarius - they tend to speak impulsively and without much filter. They may say things without fully considering the consequences and often forget their words quickly.

Mercury in Capricorn - they take responsibility for their words and have a serious and practical approach to communication. They prefer to speak with purpose and avoid engaging in meaningless conversations. They value clarity and reliability in their speech.

Mercury in Aquarius - they hold strong opinions and are often resistant to changing their views. They can be persuasive communicators and have the ability to influence and even brainwash others. They are independent thinkers who value intellectual stimulation.

Mercury in Pisces - People with Mercury in Pisces speak based on imagination and intuition. They are easily influenced or misled, but they can also be manipulative and deceptive.

It is advisable to approach astrology as a tool for self-reflection and guidance rather than relying solely on it for making major life decisions.

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[starglitterz]

♡ SPICY. // PART ONE

❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do

✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s

✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 

part one︱info︱part two

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  

��� there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 

✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 

✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 

✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 

✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”

✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”

✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 

✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 

✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 

GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[babsisbakery]

Questions Upon Questions pt.1

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

Info: had this in my drafts for a while sooo bear with me

Word count: 1.6k

Another win for Arsenal. Winning the Cup was what the team needed. After all a successful season has to be accomplished somehow if the league title goes yet again to the biggest rivals. Everyone was ecstatic. The crowd went crazy, more Arsenal fans as usual. They really are the best fans, travelling for hours to see their players destroy their opponent on the field. But you're biassed anyways, as an Arsenal player. Of course you will think your club fans are the best. This game wasn't easy to say the least but the odds were in your favour. 

Arsenal staff and players were in their usual post match circle with big satisfied smiles plastered on their faces. Jonas didn't need to say much. As you've received your medals and parade the trophy for a bit, you leave the group. Sprinting to a staff member. She was holding onto a prized possession of yours. You took the small box and went back to the others. No-one noticed your disappearance except your girlfriend, Leah was always on the lookout for you. No matter what, she searched for your presence in a crowded space. In those five years you've dated already, you were the only one who could charge her social battery again. She just needed to be with you alone for a bit and she was fine. 

When she finally spotted you, you were walking towards her. Hands behind your back hiding your special “gift”. A nervous yet excited grin making it across your face. Leah wondered why your facial expression wasn't more euphoric. She knew you quite well and for you not to celebrate a cup win as much as usual, meaning as hard as Katie, made her anxious. Something must be off, she thought. 

As you make your way towards her, teammates and staff know what's about to happen. Everyone knows except the person who is involved. They make way for you. Forming a big circle around you two. You start your speech “Leah, we’ve been dating for quite a while now and friends for much longer. Past me couldn't have seen this coming. Being with the woman who had me wrapped around her finger without even noticing it. I would have done anything you asked and frankly I still would. My love for you has only grown over time. Having met the most amazing, smart, goofy, breath-taking woman is one of the best things that occurred to me.” Leah stood frozen, not believing her eyes and ears. What the hell is happening, was her thought. She couldn't really focus on what you were saying. Her brain registered what you were about to do, go on one knee and propose. It would have been rude to interrupt you, so she stayed quiet. Subtly looking around she saw people with knowing smiles on their faces. “The place you hold in my heart is immense, the most important person in my life. Without you life isn't the same, it is not exciting. Through you I can finally see colours and not just black and white. You're the one I want a future with, the one person I want to teach how to properly cook, the one person who enamoured me and I can't live without. So I’m asking you Leah Cathrine Williamson would you do me the honour of becoming my wife and thus marry me?” as you say the final words, you drop to one knee and open your box.

Leah gasped, you smiled up at her, holding such an exquisite ring. Her hands flew to her mouth covering it. She loved the ring, it was so her. You could see it in her eyes, she loved it. You also saw something unfamiliar, hesitance. Leah was never hesitant when it came to you. Always upfront, she even made the first step to cross the line of friendship. Something you are glad she did, not sure you would have had the guts to do yourself. But she couldn't form any words. She was still frozen in place. So she ran, as if she was running for her life. She charged towards the stadium. Your smile vanished. A pain coursed through your heart, it was like no other. Stronger and deeper than any emotion you've ever felt. The box fell out of your hand. The ring disappears in the strands of grass. Tears running down your face. Why? What did you do? You fucked up. Nothing was making sense. Amanda was by your side in seconds. A sister figure you've never had. She didnt need to utter any words, she just embraced you, while you sobbed on her shoulder. “Why, whyy? Madi she ran awayyy.” “Shhh I know, I know. I got you. Let's get you inside okay?” A short nod was all you could muster. All energy has left your body.

With Stina and Frida on your other side, they lead you into the tunnel. Knowing Leah was in the changing room with Lia, Steph, Beth and Viv. They entered the medical room. The girls were surprised by the outcome. Everyone was, foremost you. A bone crushing earthquake to your “perfect” world. You start to replay different memories of your love life with Leah. Were there any signs you missed that predicted this? “Y/n/n I know what you're doing, stop it. No-one and I really mean no one could have seen this coming. It isn't your fault, okay?” reassured Stina, knowing you're swirling thoughts too well. You had confided in her about your biggest fear. She would calm your nerves and tell you exactly how things were, without putting it nicely. Always straight forward, you appreciated your friend for this. In this moment she succeeded, bringing you back to earth.

While you were a sobbing mess in the medical, Leah was also a mess. She couldn't explain it, she was at loss for words for what she did. She didn't want to run, she wanted to say yes. But the pressure was extremely high, all her colleagues had been watching her. If she had said no, would they view her differently. Because she saw some of their faces as she made her way inside. All of them displayed the same: shock. It was as if she acted out of panic, she wasn't herself. Leah herself was shocked by her actions, she had pictured this moment for ages. But none of them ended with her sprinting away. "Oh god. What have I done, what HAVE I DONE" it circled in her mind like a mantra. Until they spilled into words. Her panicked thoughts infected her body. The girls saw her anxiousness and her words added to their worry for their friend. “Leah hey, it's not too late. Whatever you decide, we stand by you.” The words were meant to bring her some sort of comfort but they couldn't.

Beth and Frida felt your agony, they exchanged all information about the situation. Both were sure, this was a big misunderstanding. Rather a mistake. Your love for one another was like no other. If soulmates existed you'd be one of them. This relationship was worth saving, you both would need a push. They came to a conclusion. Quickly they set up a plan to set everything right. Two broken hearts would distance themself from each other because it hurts too much to be near. They knew you wouldn't voluntarily meet Leah, you wouldn't listen to them. The pain in your heart consumed every part of you. And Leah wouldn't be able to face you, thinking you despised her. That would never be the case, your love would outweigh any hatred you’d harbour, even with a broken heart. She was your person after all. Any piece of her in your life was worth having.

First they gave you both a night to process what had happened, sleeping separately of course. You at Amandas and Leah at your shared home while Lia kept her sanity upright. Both of you didnt sleep an ounce. The past event was still freshly embedded in your memories. Both feeling lonely to the core, missing their other half tremendously. The numbness in your emotion grew exponentially. The recurring memory hit like a domino effect, starting the cycle of heartache. You began to reread old messages to see if you could have predicted this, if there was an ounce of fading love visible but it wasn't. You were utterly confused by what had gone through Leah's thoughts. 

While you continue to search for clues in your chat history, you receive a message from her. Your heart stops. There is hesitancy yet you still couldn't fathom not knowing what she had to say to you. With a shaking hand you click the scrolling button to get you back to the most recent message. All it says is “Can we talk?”. You are flabbergasted. Is that all she has to say? You contemplate on answering. Your heart wants to reply as fast as possible but your head is telling you to keep your cool. How can you keep your cool? The love of your life rejected you. Right. The LOVE of your life REJECTED you. If the thought hadn't sunk in before it did now. Leah rejected you and you needed answers. You deserved to know why she ran - no sprinted away. 

So you replied: “Yes, meet me at the spot in 30”

To Be Continued...

[starrylevi]

Levi doesn’t get how you find The Sims entertaining.

 “It’s a virtual dollhouse.” He tells you. “That’s what so great about it!” You retort. “Whatever floats your boat…” He mutters to himself. He says this but he makes sure you have all the sims 4 packs (there are A LOT of them). And when one is coming out, He’ll listen to you passionately explain the premise of the pack. “When it comes out, just let me know.” He’ll give you his credit card info so you can charge it as he doesn’t want you to spend any of your money.

“I made us in the Sims!” You excitedly sit in Levi’s lap with your laptop in hand.

“Hm?” Levi places his chin on the crook of your neck as his hands gently graze the sides of your thighs.

“The Sims!” You exclaim again. “Look, there’s you and there’s me…” Your finger points out each of your sims on the screen. “Oh, and we have a child together!” Levi’s eyes follow your finger as you point at the child sim. “Her name is Kuchel.”

You feel Levi tense up behind you for a moment. “Wait…what’s her name?”

“Kuchel.” You repeat, quieter this time. “Sorry, I can change her name if you don’t feel comfortable with it.” You add quickly.

Levi’s expression softens; he stays silent for a moment before speaking again. “...Can you make her?” He asks you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Your mom?” You turn slightly so you can see his face.

He nods to confirm.

 “Of course, I'll do my best.” You tell him with a soft smile.

You ask Levi to describe her to you, his eyes filled with fondness as he recalls her features and her personality. You spend hours on the Kuchel sim, wanting her to look and be as accurate as possible.

After a few days, you show Levi the finished product in the game as you have the Kuchel sim interact with the Levi sim. You look at Levi for a brief moment while the Sims are speaking to each other. The expression on his face is hard to read. It’s a mix of pleasant surprise, awe, and sadness.

“Is it okay, is there anything I should change?” You ask him, worried you didn’t capture her likeness as you watch him study her.

He silently shakes his head. “No…she’s perfect.” 

You tell Levi he’s more than welcome to play whenever he wants. You’re surprised when he does take you up on that offer. He picks up on the mechanics quickly and soon he has the whole family (Your sim, Levi’s sim, your daughter, and Kuchel) traveling all over the world, going on adventures, and trying new things together. At one point you suggest the Levi sim and the Kuchel sim spend some time alone together and Levi does just that, taking them to coffee and tea shops, having them take walks in the park, and going to the library. As you and Levi continue to play together, you learn more about Kuchel as some of the actions in the game trigger different memories of his mother.

Levi doesn’t say it but he’s thankful for this silly little game you introduced him to because he can now have a cup of tea with his mother, even if it’s only pretend.

[novy2sirius]

᭓ ྀུ༺ a degree theory by nikola stojanovic

please read before proceeding

important note: this is not my info. this is all from nikola stojanovic’s theory on degrees in astrology. he has books on it that i think you can find online and download for free

trigger warnings: murder, car crashes, sex, and suicide

sign degrees

zero degrees: 0°

the same characteristics as the sign it’s already placed in. example - aries venus at 0° is purely an aries venus, obviously aside from the house energy

aries degrees: 1°, 13°, and 25°

beginnings, leadership, taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, abuse, labor, diligence, etc

taurus degrees: 2°, 14°, and 26°

food, money, stability, earth, luxuries, sound of voice, singing voice, etc

gemini degrees: 3°, 15°, and 27°

communication, self-expression, technology, books, siblings, neighbors, etc

cancer degrees: 4°, 16°, and 28°

home, traditions, nurture, loyalty, faith, mother, the ocean/water, etc

leo degrees: 5°, 17°, and 29°

life, children, attention, fame, creativity, strength, happiness, light, etc

virgo degrees: 6° and 18°

improvement, health, to diminish, routine, animals, acts of service, etc

libra degrees: 7° and 19°

harmony/fairness, charm, beauty, law, music, art, dancing, pleasures, etc

scorpio degrees: 8° and 20°

death, major transformation, wealth, jealousy, sex, secrecy, taxes, etc

sagittarius degrees: 9° and 21°

wisdom, abundance, college, travel, photography, success, beliefs, etc

capricorn degrees: 10° and 22°

hard work, fear, public attention, karma, father, boss, isolation, history, etc

aquarius degrees: 11° and 23°

unexpected experiences, technology, friendships, networking, divorce, etc

pisces degrees: 12° and 24°

spirituality, escapism, dreams, illusion, the sea, mysteries, the hidden, etc

special degree meanings

supreme power: 2°

this degree is often found in the charts of people with remarkable achievements, who had extreme power, and who were highly respected according to nikola’s research

eroticism/a fun life: 5°

many sex symbols like marilyn monroe have this in their chart. nikola believed this was the best degree in general as well. he thought it indicated lots of fun and pleasure in one’s life

suicide/divorce: 11° and 23°

according to nikola the aquarius degrees (11 and 23) both indicate divorce occurring when placed in prominent positions in the chart. 11 is the only one indicating suicide though

car accidents: 15°

nikola believed that when this degree was connected to 8th house or scorpio placements it could indicate getting into car crashes

pure evil: 18°

nikola believed that this degree indicated a negative destiny for someone. he thought it was the worst degree you could have in your chart, based on his research he thought it was solely about facing hardships and nothing more. he also believed it could indicate being an evil person with no good intentions

to kill or be killed: 22°

just as the title reads, nikola believed this degree indicates being killed or being a killer. another thing he believed it could indicate was abandonment in the area of life it’s placed

clairvoyance: 29°

nikola believed this degree indicates someone that has very good intuition and can make accurate predictions about the outcomes of events

my opinion on astrology degrees

i personally don’t believe in nikola’s theory 100%, although i do think there’s accuracy to the signs being associated with specific degrees. i have always had stronger belief in my numerstrology degree theory than anything when it comes to this subject though. i definitely do not believe 18° is fully negative like he claims since the universe is yin yang so there’s always both positive and negative ways things can manifest. these are just my thoughts though

do you believe nikola’s degree theory? comment below!

[reidsaurora]

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea

[ravens-two]

PAC: What your Future Spouse will be like and how will you meet them?

This reading includes:

your FS's personality, vibes, and general info

how and where you will meet them for the first time

songs that represent the vibe of this relationship

The extended reading includes:

your FS's first impressions of you

your first impressions of your FS

a little moodboard

(this first extended reading is available for free!)

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Hierophant, Hermit and Page of Swords

"Love/I said real love, it's like feeling no fear"

How will your FS be like?

Your FS has a lot of earth energy, for me it feels mainly like Capricorn and Virgo, but there's also Taurus here. This doesn't have to be their zodiac sign, I actually think it's more their overall vibe. They're responsible, down-to-earth, grounded and tend to take things seriously. They also seem to be more traditional, or at least they're someone that respects authority and think that you should follow the rules. Despite being traditional, I think that they're pretty open-minded and open to new experiences. In fact, they like to try new things, they give me scientist vibes tbh. It's like they'll try anything at least once, just to see what it will be like.

When it comes to their work they might work in STEM, law enforcement or in management. I also think that they really like to read, mainly non-fiction because they're always trying to acquire more knowledge. If they're not really readers, then this is more of a nerdy vibe when it comes to their favorite hobby. If they love cinema, then they really like cinema and will be telling you about behind the scenes and production stuff every time you two watch a movie.

I feel like they have a hard time expressing their feelings though. It's not that they're thinkers rather than feelers, it's more like they don't feel comfortable being vulnerable, however I also think that they'll do their best to work through this. These people will not cheat on you and they also do not tolerate cheating or any perceived betrayal. They are very loyal. They're in this to actually get married and stay together, not just to play around.

Also, this is very specific but I also think that they're atheists, but they're very attracted to the occult and spiritual - it's like they really want to believe in something, but they can't believe in something they can't prove.

How will you meet them?

I feel like this will be quite different for everyone, but I'm getting two main things. For some of you, you might meet your person through the internet. This could be through a dating app, social media, some of you will even meet them through an online game I'm seeing (I'm actually seeing you being really frustrated with your person, maybe they're playing against you and winning lmao). For this group your relationship might start long-distance or you and your person might have to travel a lot to see each other.

For the other group I see you meeting this person while you're away from home, this almost has an adventure vibe to it. For some, you might be going away on vacation and you meet someone there. For others, this could be a work trip and this person could be somewhat related to your work. I'm also seeing that some of you aren't exactly traveling, but you're out of town, like the city next to yours or something like that.

your vibes in songs

Cherry - Lana del Rey

Like Real People Do - Hozier

Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex

Blackbird - Beatles

Francesca - Hozier

(checkout the first extended reading on my patreon - available for free)

Pile 2

Seven of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Cups

"put your life out on the line/you're crazy all the time"

How will your FS be like?

Oh right away your person attracts other people's attention and jealousy. They're probably very beautiful, visually striking or they've got money or status. Either way people can't take their eyes off of them. For some of you, this attention isn't for the best reasons. People might feel wary or scared by your person.

This is someone that doesn't take shit from anyone. They are assertive and have high self-esteem. People might try to put them down, but it's literally impossible. I'm actually feeling Leo, Libra and a bit of Taurus vibes here. They're like the brightest star in the room. They also believe that they're the best - not in the sense that they're better than other people, but more in a self-motivation way.

If they've got money and status - like a good job for example (I also think that they're known for their job and they are very good at it) - it's because they worked really hard for it. They don't really come from money, they worked hard for what they have. That's the other thing they are hard workers and will not settle for less than what they have envisioned. They also don't like lazy people or debbie-downers. They firmly believe that everyone makes their own destiny. (for some reason I'm also getting that they like the movie Brave lol).

When it comes to the relationship they love to shower you with gifts, it might be their love language. Also, something that they will do is support your goals and motivate you when you're feeling down.

I also get a bit of a secretive vibe from them, it's almost like they make you look at the brightest parts of them to distract you from the shadows. They sometimes might struggle mentally, I feel like this might come from some childhood trauma or anxiety. Despite this, they're fighters and don't stop trying to get better.

How will you meet them?

Unlike pile 1, I feel like this is a very old-fashioned type of meeting. You might meet in a public place, like going out to a party or to a restaurant or something like that and you see them and they will start a conversation with you and ask for your number.

Others of you will meet your person through someone else, like a friend or a co-worker will introduce you to them. I don't think that this will be match-making, but you two will be instantly attracted to each other.

Either way, this feels like a more traditional courtship type of situation lmao. You'll both take your time getting to know and really dating each other. I feel like this will be very romantic.

your vibes in songs

Art Deco - Lana del Rey

Angels - The XX

Mystery of Love - Sufjan Stevens

Yellow - Coldplay

Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones

(checkout the first extended reading on my patreon - available for free)

Pile 3

Tower, Knight of Swords, Eight of Pentacles

"they say I'm too young to love you/they say I'm too dumb to see"

How will your FS be like?

Talk about scorpionic energy. Your person is a force of nature, pile 3. They might have a lot of Pluto or Scorpio influence in their chart. I feel like this is the bad boy/girl pile - in a good way though. If this is a woman she is the embodiment of that dark feminine aesthetic, think Megan Fox for example. In general, they give me dark, edgy, goth vibes. But some lean more towards a romantic, Byron-esque energy. These are the type of people who will seduce you with their gaze and then with their words. They have a very intense sexual energy.

Your person isn't afraid of change, in fact, I think that they crave change. They might start out as being a bit commitment-phobic actually. Your person has also been through a lot, they might be the tortured artist type. They are deep thinkers and love to talk. Like they will talk and talk and talk. Honestly, they're happy to talk about anything, but especially about philosophical stuff or conspiracy theories or that type of thing. Also, as they are so open minded they will be open to talk about anything and are really good listeners. Like, for example, you might love Star Wars but they've never seen it, they're still super happy to talk to you about it and will know about it enough to hold a conversation. They have this gemini energy that they know a little bit about everything. They are very supportive and whenever you have a problem or are feeling down they'll sit you down and ask you to tell them everything.

I get the feeling that they know more than one language and they might actually work as translators, editors or linguists. In general though, I think that this person works freelance and does a lot of different stuff. They want to try as many professions as possible.

They love poetry or music and will either read poetry or sing for you. Again, there's an artist vibe here. They might not be an artist by profession, but they love the arts.

When it comes to their love and emotions they are very passionate. They might express their feelings in really over the top ways. It's like when they're happy they're really happy, but when they're sad they're also really sad. They feel things deeply. Being loved by them is something all-consuming.

How will you meet them?

I actually feel like most of you will meet your person through work. This might mean that you will be co-workers or that you will meet them whilst you or them are working. Let's say that you work as a lawyer for example they might become your client and that's how you get to know each other. Of course, nothing can really happen whilst they're your client, but it will happen afterwards.

For other people, you will meet them during a period that you are very focused on your career and/or you have a lot of work to do. For some people, I'm even seeing that this will be while you're doing your thesis. You're completely focused on something, maybe even feeling a bit stressed and you just meet them randomly. You won't really have time for them right away, but they'll be persistent and keep showing up on your radar until you have enough time to actually get to know each other.

your vibes in songs

Brooklyn Baby - Lana del Rey

West Coast - Lana del Rey

Can't Catch Me Now - Olivia Rodrigo

The Louvre - Lorde

Patience - Guns N' Roses

(checkout the first extended reading on my patreon - available for free)

Pile 4

Queen of Wands, Fool rx, Nine of Swords rx

"I live to love you/and I love to love you"

How will your FS be like?

Right away I can see that your person is very stubborn and strong-willed, pile 4. This manifests in both a good and a bad way. It means that they are persistent and don't change their minds without good reason. But, it also means that once they have their mind set it's very hard to make them come around.

This person is very fiery. Mainly I see Aries and Leo energy here. They are extroverted, confident and some of them are a bit brash, while others are charmers. They are also very confident in their charm and sexuality, and it's probably what will draw you to them at first.

I also see them as wanting to boost your self-esteem and show you off to others. They love some jealousy lmao (you being jealous, and also others being jealous of them and your relationship). They are absolute drama queens/kings. It amuses them to blow things out of proportion and they love it even more when you do it back at them. Okay, the scenario I'm getting is they trying to make you jealous by doing something silly or talking about an old partner, they would then love it if you were super dramatic about it and pretended to be really upset. They like to argue for fun as well. Like, honestly you need to rein them in at the dinner table so that they don't push your families/friend's buttons. They are very passionate.

I also think that they are a bit pessimistic at times, but when they really feel like that they will try to keep it to themselves instead of being overtly dramatic. I also think that they're looking for stability and a serious relationship after a time of not having it.

They really don't like surprises. And might not be too excited about change. They would prefer if everything always stayed as it is. I also, feel like sometimes they have a hard time balancing between feeling adventurous and not feeling like leaving their safe space.

I think that most of them speak really fast, and often without thinking. Which ends up with them regretting their words more often than not. Also, acting without thinking.

How will you meet them?

I'm not getting a place/physical circumstance as much as the other piles. But, I think that you will meet your person after you have been through a really hard time. Perhaps you have been struggling a lot with anxiety and are now recovering and then you randomly meet them. I feel like you'll know it's them because they will give you a feeling of calmness and peace.

For others I think that this will be a really difficult situation like the loss of a friend, family member, pet, or even a job. It will take you a long time to recover and you will still be quite vulnerable when you meet your person. You might also be a bit anxious about getting into a relationship at first.

your vibes in songs

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana del Rey

Religion - Lana del Rey

More Than Words - Extreme

She - Elvis Costello

National Anthem - Lana del Rey

(checkout the first extended reading on my patreon - available for free)

[libraryraccoon]

The Aeon Of Creation : Surprise ?

P1 (here) -> P2 (coming soon)

TW : English isn't my first language, bad english. Spoil Penacony quests.

Gender : Male/GN

Pronouns used : He/They

Info : I was sad when I haven't found any hsr sahsr au, so I decided to write one.

There was an Aeon that everyone know in the universe.

The first Aeon that have been appeared, The Aeon Of Creation.

It’s said that The Aeon Of Creation was the first being that had appear, that it’s them that have create the universe, the worlds, and that have created the others Aeons. That it’s them that say who can be an Aeon.

But no one has seen them for a while now. Even the others Aeons were worried, even Nanook.

It’s only decades later that a trailblazer saw them.

<----->

His name was Caelus, he was in a dream at Penacony when he meet them.

They seems so familiar, but also they seems like a stranger.

“Excuse me.” Said the grey hair, looking at the h/c hair. “Have we met before ?”

They had h/l h/c hair, e/c, s/c, and they were wearing a white shirt with a sleeveless sweater on top, a trench coat, black pants and shoes.

They had a men body, and they look like a men in every way. But, more Caelus was watching them, more they don’t seems to be human, and more they remember him someone- but he don’t know who.

It was.. strange.

“Maybe yes, maybe no.. Who know ?” ask the person-thing. “I'm sorry, I have a bad memory."

They were lying, Caelus didn’t know how, but he just know it.

He hate when people lie to him.

“I’m Y/N and my pronouns are he/him. Just a person traveling in the universe. Nice to meet you.” He introduced himself lifting his hat a little in a sort of reverence- since when did he have a hat ?!

Caelus ask no question -he was used to things like that.

“I’m Caelus, a nameless.” He said, Compared to usual, he didn't make a joke or show off like he usually did. He didn’t really think about it at that moment.

<----->

Caelus was often with Y/N.

They was what we can called ‘best friend’.

Every time Caelus was in Penacony, he would go straight to Y/N.

Y/N gave off a sort of comforting and familiar aura. One that he found difficult to part with. Maybe the reason he clung so tightly to his friend was to avoid a repeat of Firefly, to protect him. Caelus didn't know, and he didn't search for an answer, focusing on the present.

“Caelus ! Do attention ! I swear one day you will die soon if you continue like that !” His friend swore as Caelus passed on the road to join him, not paying attention to the passing cars, almost being run over by one.

Caelus only give a nervous laugh at that.

<----->

Being the Aeon of Creation for them was boring.

They knew everything, having nothing to learn. That annoyed them. They wanted to learn, to discover things.

But with their creations worshiping them, some much, MUCH, more than others, it was impossible. So they took a human form and visited the planets, the worlds, that they had created from another point of view.

<----->

Humans were very attached to all this gender and sex stuff, so they took on a masculine appearance and he/him pronouns. Like that, they really look like the other humans ! Well, except for their blood. They had a blood that was like the universe, no, that was like their blood was the universe ! Just like their tears. And it's never touching the ground, disappearing in the air. They had to be careful for not being hurt or crying in front of people (but why and how they know their tears colors ?)

They was travelling alone until they meet him.

He was a boy with short grey hair and yellow eyes. His name was Akivili.

They traveled the universe together, in the Express.

Akivili was their first friend, their first best friend,

Their first love.

They were really closed, and the Aeon realized too late that they were falling for him.

The day they wanted to confess, Akivili disappeared.

The Aeon of Creation have done all for finding him, but always in a human form, they didn’t want people to realize who they was.

And, one day, in a dream they meet someone that look like Akivili.

His name was Caelus, a nameless, just like Akivili.

The Aeon of Creation thought that maybe, just maybe, he was Akivili, a reincarnation, or a descendant of him. They were sure the two were related.

Especially that he have the name Akivili wanted to give to his son.

The day before the Creator turn Akivili into an Aeon.

“Hey, if one day you have a kid, what name will you give them ?” ask Akivili.

“Huh- I don’t know ?” said the Aeon confused. They thought about how everyone always gives two names to this question, one feminine and one masculine. “Aether if it’s a boy and Stelle if it’s a girl.”

“Great names. You’re always creatives for names.” Said the mortal.

“And you ?”

“Caelus if it’s a boy and Lumine if it’s a girl.” Akivili answer easily.

Akivili always had something for picking great name.

It’s him who gave them the name Y/N after all. 

So, for knowing who really Caelus was, they decided to stay with him.

Of what they had understood, he lost a dear friend, so Y/N helped him at the same time with all his grief thing.

And that worked ! Well, in a way ?

Caelus was feeling better now that Y/N was here, but he was what mortals called ‘clingy’.

The Aeon found that funny – Akivili was always clingy with them when he was tired. So that make them think of the past.

They was happy to compare Caelus to Akivili, making some theories about it, and not to some creep that prayed them..

Maybe The Aeon Of Creations have what mortals called a trauma caused by a few of their believers.

<----->

The Aeon Of Creation is traumatized of all this Sagau imposter AU/j I thought making the creator having a universe color blood and tears will be funny because, you know, they created it- The Creator thinking Caelus is Akivili is an idea that would hurt when it will be more developed.

[starsworldd]

Venus Return observations

you guys wanted some more observation posts so here you go!!

readings for these types of charts are open :)

these observations were made using whole signs

how to open your venus return chart: type in “venus return chart” in your browser and click on the first link you see (should be astroseek). insert your birth info and under “return of the planet” click on venus. select the year you want to see your chart for, however it is possible that you won’t have a return chart every year so you may have to use previous/future years

-> having the 1st house ruler in the first means that you could be more confident in the way you express affection/charm/flirting with others.

-> moon in 1st house could be a year where you focus more on self-care

-> the vertex in your return chart and where it lies in your natal chart can show where you may receive compliments or events/experiences having to do with pleasure/fun:

vertex in the 12th house can mean doing unusual/new activities (especially in isolation) that you find fun

vertex in the 5th can mean more recognition for your talents/hobbies

vertex in the 2nd house can mean some experiences with money (positive/negative depending on planets aspecting it)

-> 10th house stellium shows that you may be more popular or be getting more recognition for your art/fashion/charm

-> whereas a 6th house stellium can show someone who finds pleasure and fun in improving their artistic sense AND/OR the native could feel as if pleasurable things have more responsibility now, this could actually mean getting big bucks but also what should be pleasurable (art, music, dance, love) may feel more like a chore or a sacrifice now. i actually see significant 6th house placements in this chart where celebrities have gotten big publicity/success that year (olivia rodrigo, doja cat, billie eilish)

-> 9th house ruler in the 9th shows really important experiences that may help you better your philosophy on self-love, friendships, romantic love, etc… i had this and it was legit one of the best years of my life

-> planets/signs in the 2nd house show what the money/ situation is like that year (ex: mercury shows that you profit off of writing, marketing, communication exchange, etc… or having sagittarius in the 2nd could mean doing something new and exciting that deals with immigration/travel)

-> you should look forward to a year where you have sagittarius rising in this chart…abundance, new experiences, fresh slate :)

-> which house venus sits in for this chart shows how you will find pleasure/happiness/harmony,etc:

venus in 7th = reliable partnerships being formed, possibly getting into a romantic relationship

venus in 8th = easier time in reforming relationships, relationships/art/money are shown in a new light and bring value/worth to your current life

venus in 9th = blessed with a larger perspective on life this year, forming relationships with people outside of your comfort zone

-> natal OR venus return jupiter/part of fortune conjunct venus return rising can mean having an easier time getting what you desire

-> mars in the 7h can mean breaking away from a relationship for your own pleasure/relief

-> jupiter in the 8th can indicate good experiences coming to you from others (sex, vacations, money, etc…)

-> but i think having an 8th house stellium in this chart is bittersweet because it shows that venusian topics may become more of a responsibility/burden, it can limit the way that you want enjoy yourself for that year, BUT as with most 8th house topics, you come out the either side wiser and with a stronger sense of direction and purpose.

-> jupiter in the 4th house, especially if it’s well aspected, on the ic, or in a sign that it likes (cancer, sagittarius, pisces) can show that you make wealth from doing hobbies at home

-> when the sun is in detriment/fall, you could feel less appreciated during that year

-> saturn on the mc can mean that your putting out a lot artistic content for that year or there may be a lot of pressure on your social reputation (another success indicator in my opinion)

-> whereas saturn on the ic can show that the pleasurable/fun experiences you have at home present obstacles, there's something preventing fulfillment of compassion, love, etc... with family. difficult placement in my experience

-> mercury conjunct part of fortune (whether that be in the venus return chart alone or x natal) means that people agree and get along with you better

-> venus return moon conjunct natal ascendant indicates a year where you will feel extremely sentimental and passionate about the things and people you love, you may be reconnecting with old hobbies and interests you left behind

-> sun square mars in the venus return chart means that you're really trying to get attention in an artistic/romantic/connection (depends on what houses the square is in) sense, but you could struggle to feel satisfied, may be an overall unsatisfying year especially if detriment/fall placements are involved (if its >3 degrees orb i wouldn't worry too much)

-> may be obvious, but planets/asteroids that are conjunct your venus highlight important themes for that year:

venus conjunct mars - a year where you may be working more on your hobbies, looks, compassion, etc... depending on the sign indicates succeeding in your goals

venus conjunct saturn/pluto - transformative year, may change your viewpoint on current and future friendships, artistic pleasures, and overall how to find more happiness/fulfillment in your life

venus conjunct mercury - knowledge (book smart), charisma, and social exchanges (online and in-person) are highly beneficial for this year

hope you enjoyed!

[skzdarlings]

the kingsguard ; jisung x reader ; part ii

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | tba | ao3 link

pairing: han jisung/reader summary: You are a queen. He is a kingsguard - a member of a holy order that vows to defend the king in the name of the gods. They forsake all earthly goods and swear a vow of chastity to avoid worldly temptation. When he stands in as proxy for the royal wedding, all those vows are tested.

content info: reader is described with curly hair.

content warnings: a royal affair between queen reader and guard jisung. the king is a violently abusive man and continually disrespects reader in this part. this chapter has an additional content warning for emetophobia.

word count: 5100 words.

<3

-

Morning dawns with a cool, clear light, but it fades as quickly, dissolving in the burning sunshine.  Every hand is at work, preparing the royal retinue for its return journey to the capital. 

You watch as the last of your trunks are loaded onto a wagon.  Each click and latch echoes inside you.  You stand helpless as your life is locked in iron. 

You walk to exert the worst of your nerves, fluttering inside you like a thousand frantic butterflies.  You lift your gaze to the sky, willing those butterflies to carry you away, but then you see your family waving from a balcony. 

You cannot let them see your pain.  It is too late to do anything about the marriage, even if your parents expressed some regret for the arrangement.  That regret was tentatively posed to avoid treasonous speech, but they were undoubtedly taken aback by the king’s poor behaviour.    

Your mother insisted on dressing you this morning.  She was teary-eyed the entire time, so you faked your best and brightest smile.  There was no sense in you both suffering. 

The child in you wants to fling yourself at your family.  The woman you are, the queen you have become, forces a smile and waves back. 

You continue your walk.  Your mother dressed you finely but comfortably, a long, loose gown with flowing sleeves, your curly hair pinned in a twisting up-do, a flower behind your ear in lieu of a crown. 

Heads turn towards you, for there are courtiers milling about.  Some are travelling with the king’s party while others will divert course to visit their own lands.  Judgemental eyes trail the sweep of your hem across the earthen path.  You feign indifference as you weave in-and-out of the bustling bodies.

The courtyard has never been so busy.  The clamour of trunks, the stomping of horses, and the din of busy chatter blend into cacophony. 

Distantly, you hear a guitar.  

Han Jisung.  The first name you associate with music. 

You are flushed with embarrassment, remembering last night’s sorry return to your room.  Jisung escorted you back, a silent trek that agitated your frayed anxiety at the time.  In the light of day, you realize just how much he did for you.  You would not have survived the journey, at least not in one piece, and if anyone else had caught you, your life would have been equally forfeit. 

He committed an offense against the crown, a sin in his faith, one that would have demanded a great deal of reconciliation.  You have heard stories of kingsguards self-flagellate in the pursuit of forgiveness for even meagre transgressions.  The fact Jisung understood your betrayal, the fact he forgave it, the fact he saved you, is not insubstantial. 

You wonder who this man is, to wear the cloth but help his friend first, to keep secrets for a woman he hardly knew because he sympathized with her pain.  To have a sword at his hip and a song on his lips. 

You follow the guitar.  It leads you to the royal carriages and a circle of kingsguards in a hushed argument.  Jisung is playing a comically frantic tune while they debate. 

“What’s going on?” another kingsguard approaches.  It is the short and stocky one from the ceremony.  You learned the names of the all kingsguards at the evening festivities.  You recognize this one as Seo Changbin, an undoubted force of brute strength, striding up to his brethren with a hand on his sword hilt. 

“Felix disappeared,” Jisung trills, fingers dancing over the guitar strings, “and the kingsguard is afeared, because the king is not too dear—”

“What?” Changbin interrupts, looking at the others.  “Felix is gone?”

“Not just Felix,” a brown-haired guard, Lee Minho, says.  His brow is pinched.  “The king’s mistress is missing too.” 

Your eyes widen, your careful mask cracking under the assault of shock. 

The woman who ran off with Felix was the king’s mistress?   

It does not take much knowledge of the inner circle to deduce that does not bode well for anyone.  A kingsguard breaking his oath is one thing, a kingsguard running off with a woman is another still, but a kingsguard conducting an affair with the king’s mistress is a personal betrayal heaped on top of sin.  The only worse crime would be if he pursued the king’s wife. 

Jisung looks at you.  

He spots you across the crowd and strums a foul note, fingers clumsy with surprise.  The bad note draws attention to him, so the other guards follow his line of sight.   They all straighten when they see you, their strong shoulders tense with anxiety.

Minho and Changbin immediately duck into a bow.  The other two, Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, exchange a glance before following suit.  Hwang Hyunjin, the preposterously beautiful one, bows but not before he grimaces with discomfort at their conversation being overheard by the queen.

Jisung is still staring, his eyes darting from your face to the flower behind your ear.  He meets your eyes and, for a long moment, sinks into your gaze where he loses himself.  The events of the previous evening seem to play in the space between you, every panicked whisper and solemn glance.

Then he abruptly notices the rest are bowing. With a yelp, he swings down into a bow. 

You take a breath to steady your voice. “What’s this about a missing person?” you ask. 

They straighten, one by one, sharing uncertain looks.  Minho and Jisung seem to have a mute conversation, Minho clenching his jaw and lifting his brows as if mutely scolding Jisung.  Jisung stares back with furrowed brows as if challenging it.

In the end, it’s the youngest one who speaks.  Jeongin is a shaggy-haired youth and his whole face is scrunched with worry. 

“A kingsguard is missing,” he blurts.  “But he’s not a bad guard,” he adds frantically, waving his hands around.  “Really.  We don’t know what happened.  It’s not like him.  And the king’s mistress is missing too, but that doesn’t make sense.  No, it doesn’t make any sense at all.  Felix wouldn’t do that.  It’s not like Felix.  It’s really very strange, your Majesty.  We don’t understand, Your Majesty.  Your Majesty.”  He dips into a bow every time he utters your title.

Seungmin kicks him. 

“Stop talking, dummy,” Seungmin says out of the side of his mouth. 

“Right, I’m sorry,” Jeongin says, bowing again.  “We’re all very loyal.  We’re the kingsguard.  You know that. Of course you do.”

As if anyone could mistake the cluster of black-robed soldiers, looking very austere among the courtiers and servants. 

You say nothing more, simply cast your gaze around the assembled soldiers, doing your utmost not to look at Jisung lest you betray too much secret knowledge. 

“There is no cause for concern,” Minho says, drawing your attention.  “Everyone is just… surprised.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin mutters, “Surprised it wasn’t Hyunjin.”   

Jeongin snorts, though he looks remorseful after.  Hyunjin whips around to glare at Seungmin who is now snickering to himself. 

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says, catty in tone, “I let them look, but I don’t touch.”

“And what do they touch?” Seungmin retorts.  Jeongin laughs again and looks even more chagrined, covering his mouth and closing his eyes. 

“Yah, knock it off,” Changbin says, waving them apart. 

“We’ll fix it,” Minho says to you.  “You don’t need to concern yourself, your Majesty.”

You do not say that you are very concerned.  You worry the king’s attentions will return to you sooner than he threatened.  And if that was his conduct when he had a mistress for pleasure, you are loathe to imagine how he might behave in her absence.    

But that is not an admittance you can make to the holy order sworn to enforce the will of the gods-blessed crown.

The king is wearing that crown as he storms over.  He is already ranting and raving, barking at the leader of kingsguard.  Chan follows him, hand on the hilt of his sword, stoic face not betraying a hint of anxiety.  He nods patiently at the king’s ranting. 

When they reach the guards, a single look from Chan compels them all to stand in formation and bow before the king.

“I want them found!” the king hollers.  “I want their heads on pikes outside my window!  And if I find any conspirators in this fucking plot—”   He shoves a passing servant, a man in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The servant spills to the ground, cowering when the king looms over him.  “Then they too shall pay the price of treason.”   

The servant crawls into full obeisance, prostrate on the ground.  The king just snarls and steps over him. 

“Sire,” Chan says curtly, a vague acknowledgement before he helps the servant up and sends him on his way. 

The king has already moved on, still ranting to himself as he storms across the courtyard.  He starts shouting about his wife, evidently missing you in the crowd.  You swallow down the choking terror in your throat and follow him. 

“If that whore ran off too—” he starts, turning around and finally seeing you.  He snarls.  “It would have been preferable,” he says. 

You say nothing.  You dip into a respectful bow and keep your eyes down.  It conceals your fear, your frustration.  You hope it just looks submissive.   

“It is not necessary we overindulge in company,” he says.  “You will ride in the carriage behind mine.  The kingsguard will surround us.  You will not bother them.  You will not be a grievance to me.  You will be quiet.  You will be obedient.  You will do as told and move only when bid.”  He does not wait for a reply, turning to look at the guards.  “We depart.  Now.  I want to leave this disgusting territory behind me.”

He spits.  Ostensibly, it is just on the ground, a slight against the land, but it falls close to your feet.  It is abundantly obvious what he is actually spitting on. 

You take another steadying breath, staring at that spot on the ground.  When you find the strength to lift your gaze, the guards are staring at you.  Their expressions run the range of pity and malcontent.  You suppose they would be offended by the king slighting you so outright.  Though his blood is divine by birthright, they believe the gods control the fates of men, so if you are queen it is because the gods will it so.  You have also been chosen by the gods and it is not appropriate for the king to conduct himself thusly. 

They are visibly disgruntled, Chan most of all, his brow furrowed as he stares after the king.  The shake of his head is nearly imperceptible; you would have missed it if you were not looking at that precise moment. 

The king leaves an awkward silence in his retreat.  It is broken when Jisung strums a melodramatic chord on his guitar. 

Chan shoots him an unimpressed look.  Jisung giggles nervously.   

“Put it away,” Chan says.

“Heh, right,” Jisung says, spinning on his heel.  He putters towards his horse where he packs his guitar with his saddlebags. 

In spite of yourself, you feel the tug of a smile, very small but very real.  Your eyes follow Jisung until Chan steps forward, his hand over his heart as he bows politely.

“Your Majesty,” he says.  “I’ll escort you to the carriage.” 

You start to follow, casting a final glance back at your home.  When you do, you catch sight of something across the courtyard.  It roots you to the spot.  Your heart weighs you down like a lead weight. 

“Your Majesty?” Chan says, tilting his head.  He holds out his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you say.  It comes out on a breath.  You clear your throat but your voice is still shaking when you say, “Can you give me just one more moment?  I’ll be fast.”

His squints, perplexed, but he nods. 

You gather your skirts so you can run quickly over the courtyard bricks.  You hurry to the cluster of household servants who are gathered in a teary-eyed throng by the palace.   When they see you coming, they all rush forward.  You meet them halfway, throwing your arms around the woman directly in your path. 

Your tears nearly escape, but you manage to restrain them, enveloped in the friendly embrace of the household that raised you.  You spent more time among these people than anyone else, always respectful of their important duties, cherishing their friendships as dearly as any noblesse. 

You know it is inappropriate as a queen, standing there hugging the servants one-by-one, but you suspect you will draw ire regardless.  So you hug and thank them, wiping a few teary faces as they wish you well. 

“You’ll come back and visit right?” a little girl asks, the daughter of a handmaiden your own age, a woman you consider a friend.  You spent many hours entertaining her daughter, helping with chores, giving gifts, seeing her grow. 

You crouch down to her level, holding back tears as you nod.  You know it’s not true, that the king will undoubtedly forbid it given his contempt for this place.  But you say, “Of course I will.  This is my home.  I’d miss you all too much.”

“We’ll miss you too,” her mother says, hugging you next.  When she does, she slips something into your hand, a small phial of a dark liquid.  “Sleeping draft,” she whispers in your ear.  “For the nights the king needs his rest so you may have yours.” 

You laugh through your tears, kiss her temple and a mouth a thank you as you withdraw.   You tuck the phial into a pocket pouch inside your gown. 

After a few more goodbyes, you stand before them and bow.  You offer a smile as they return it.  It carries a very different respect than the terrified cowering of the servant before the king. 

You are not the only one who thinks so.  When you turn, you find the guards all staring at you, their faces a wall of blinking surprise.  Jisung is the worst at hiding his thoughts, his brown eyes the widest.   Chan is the best, but even he cannot hide his contemplation.   

“I’m ready,” you say gently. 

You lift your hem and walk onward.  You do not look back.  You wait until the carriage door is closed behind you, then you bury your face in your hands and cry. 

-

Your sorrow passes, bleeding into frustration, then fury.   Alone in the carriage, you have time to stew in a myriad of emotions as you deliberate on your circumstances.  You resolve to stand firm before the king, to not crumple beneath his cruel sneers, to bear his wickedness with grace.  You will make him ridiculous in comparison to your obvious virtue. 

This commitment falters very quickly. 

For the first hour of travel, you are passing through your family’s property, then the village.  The roads are paved and the passage is smooth.  When you reach the forest path, it is a different matter entirely.  Though there is a road that cuts through the great woods, it is a trail of gravel and packed, uneven dirt.  The carriage jostles constantly, bouncing up and down at inconsistent intervals.

You last three hours.  By the end of that third hour, you are so queasy that the scarlet interior of the carriage turns to a murky green.  Your spotted vision swims through that grime even with your eyes closed.  You do everything you can to ease the discomfort, taking down your hair pin-by-pin until every curl is loose, the flower discarded because its scent was too strong.  You sit in every possible position, craning towards the window and fresh air, but the nausea only worsens as the trail gets bumpier. 

You try to distract yourself, listening to the aimless chatter and laughter from the kingsguards.  Their horses trot along at an unhurried canter, far smoother than the carriage wheels jumping over rocks and earth. 

After a particularly violent jostle, you give up.  You are going to be sick and you would rather not do it in the carriage. 

“Excuse me,” you say, waving to the first guard you see.  Minho is not far from the window.  “I’m sorry but I need to stop.  Right now.”  You want to elaborate but your stomach rolls and your voice catches. 

You must look sufficiently ill because Minho clicks his boots and quickens his pace, riding up to Chan near the king’s carriage.  You slump against your seat while they have a quick discussion.

Chan lifts a hand and the whole train comes to a halt. 

You do not wait for them to open the door.  You burst out of the carriage in a clumsy frenzy, running to the treeline where you fall to your knees and promptly empty the contents of your stomach. 

You feel hot and frantic, heaving as you struggle to hold your hair off your face.  You sputter, lips quivering as another wave rises inside you. 

Someone jumps off their horse and lands beside you.  You spare a brief glance up at Minho, his brow pinched with concern, but then the king shouts in aggravations and you throw yourself forward to vomit some more.

Minho helps, bending over you, gathering you hair as best he can and holding it out of the way.  The next closest soldier, Hyunjin, also dismounts and approaches. 

Vomiting is not exactly dignified.  It feels even worse to have every single person in the royal retinue watch you spew your breakfast over the forest floor.

You lift your head, turning to offer an apology but your voice is shot.  Minho still looms rather protectively, Hyunjin nearby.  You look around for Chan to address him, but your eyes find Jisung first.  He is the farthest away, perched on horseback, fidgeting with the reins.

The king shouts again.  It’s a block of noise to your ringing ears, but you suspect he is angry at the delay.  He told you not to be a grievance.

You try to stand but your knees wobble.  You use a rock for balance, then Minho when he takes your arm.   Hyunjin steps in and takes your other arm.  Together, they get you back on your feet. 

“I don’t think she can continue yet, sire,” Chan says, riding into view.  “Maybe we should rest here for a bit.”

“We are stopping to rest in an hour,” the king snaps.  “I will not be delayed so near to our schedule.”

“What made you sick?” Minho asks.

“The carriage,” you say, groaning as you wipe your mouth.  You are certain you make a ravaged sight.  At least your stomach is empty now, the worst of the nausea passed, but you cannot imagine climbing back inside that rattling monstrosity.  

You step forward, away from Minho and Hyunjin.  Your legs quiver but you steady yourself. 

“I’ve never ridden a carriage so far,” you say.  “I’m very sorry, I am.  The terrain is just so uneven.  I’ve only ever ventured to the village and back.”  Even then, you usually travelled on horseback.  Sometimes you would sit on the back on a wagon or two, but it never went farther than the ends of the property. 

“Why doesn’t she travel on horseback?”  That sounds like Seungmin, speaking somewhere behind you. 

“Can you ride a horse?” Hyunjin asks, to which you nod emphatically. 

“It might be less intense at this pace,” Minho agrees. 

They look at Chan.  You are certain there is something significant about the fact the guards always seek instructions from Chan and not the king, but you are too unsettled to contemplate anything too deeply. 

Chan is the one who looks at the king, lifting a questioning brow. 

“There’s no horses to spare,” the king says.  “If one of you wants to deal with the brat, then take her.” 

Hyunjin steps towards you. 

“Not you,” the king says. 

Hyunjin steps back again.

The king, who is still in his carriage, cranes his neck to look around the gathered guards.  He snaps his fingers. 

“Bard boy,” he calls.  “Take the queen.”

“Jisung,” Chan says, waving him forward.  “Come here.” 

You look at Jisung who is visibly startled at his selection.  His black hair is a bit windswept, the longer tufts curling up at his nape.  Wide, brown eyes find yours, slowly blinking to attention.  With a shake of his head, he picks up the reins and rides over to you. 

You step back, staring up at him on his perch.  He says nothing but extends his open hand, blinking those captivating eyes at you.  You are not sure why they ensnare you so, nor why your heart skips a beat when you delicately place your hand in his.  That beat pounds a quick stacatto when his sword-calloused fingers grip yours tightly. 

Minho and Hyunjin help you onto the horse.  You seat yourself side-saddle in front of Jisung, ramrod straight so you are not pressed against him.  His arms circle you to take the reins and you pointedly do not look at his hands.    

Despite the king’s presumption, you would have been less bothered by Hyunjin.  Yes, he is irrevocably handsome, his own black hair tied back, sleek and pristine, but it does not affect you.  A handsome face has never much moved you.  You always thought yourself logical, your heart oddly shaped next to others.

But now you are looking at Jisung’s dark-painted nails, his soldier’s hands on the reins; now you are feeling his breath at your nape, the warmth that emanates from his body, hot from wearing black in the summer sun; now you think of him helping his friend, helping you, and that makes him more than a handsome face.  it makes your stomach twist in a very different way than before. 

That feeling is exacerbated when he reaches into a saddlebag and retrieves a waterskin. 

“Here,” he says in a soft voice.  “Drink. Go on.”  He puts it in your hand. 

You take a deep drink, purging your mouth of the foul residue of sickness.  You thank him just as softly and hand the waterskin back.   

Once settled, the train resumes course.  Chan waves and everyone marches on.

Jisung spurs the horse into motion.  Despite your best effort, the movement knocks you into his chest.  Jisung sputters and you realize your undone hair is flying into face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, desperately smoothing it down.  It does not work, but all your pins are in the carriage and you suspect the king will not be too enchanted if you stop the train to fetch them.

“It’s okay,” Jisung says.  “One second.”  He lays the reins down, his thigh muscles firm behind you as he squeezes to maintain leverage. 

Then you feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare neck.  It sends an immediate cascade of shivers shooting down your spine.  He gathers your hair carefully in his hands, guiding it over your shoulder, away from his face. 

Minho also pulled back your hair, but that was a very different sensation. 

This you… feel.

He takes up the reins again, arms circled around you.  You pull yourself upright as the horse moves along. 

You think this ride might be stiff and uncomfortable, but then he begins to hum to himself.  You find the gentle melody placates your nerves.  Your frantic energy simmers to a cooler calm. 

After a while, the conversations resume around you.  Jisung tells some jokes to the other guards and you smile, though it is weak.  Their camaraderie makes you miss your own friends already. 

Jisung hums again, almost like he can sense your discomfort.  It is most likely a coincidence, but you still find yourself sighing pleasantly. 

With the worst of your anxiety tempered, at least for now, you ask him, “Where did you learn to play?”

“Sorry?”  The question catches him off guard.

“Sorry,” you say.  “I don’t mean to pry.  I’m just curious.” 

Though there is often a bard-like character in the kingsguard, it is nonetheless an intriguing amalgamation of skills.  They do not let just anyone into the kingsguard service, even if they are willing to take the vow of chastity and surrender their earthly goods.  Jisung must be an exceptionally skilled swordsman to be admitted, an interesting background for such a talented musician.  Though he was joking with his music earlier, he is very capable of composing melodic poetry.

“Music and swordplay just seem an odd match,” you say.

“Maybe,” he replies.  “Maybe not.  They both require dedication.  Time.  Practice.” 

“You are a devout man, I suppose,” you say. 

“Of course,” he answers confidently.  “I am absolutely the most devout and most impressive one here—ow.”  Someone, probably Seungmin, chucks a coin at his head.  

You laugh, glancing at Jisung over your shoulder.  His eyes dart briefly to your mouth, his own face brightening at your smile.  He laughs back and nods. 

“Honestly, I grew up with music first,” he says.  “I didn’t, uh… I didn’t exactly grow up in a palace.  To say the least.  But, yeah, definitely palace-adjacent and not a hovel on a street in the capital,” he jokes.  As he talks, you picture a little boy with a guitar, strumming on the busy city streets.  “I used to write songs and sing for money.  Then I got older.  I was looking for work when the war started.  I got recruited like a lot of boys, but I was pretty disciplined and a fast learner.  After the war, I met Chan.  He put in a good word for me, so I was able to put myself forward during the new recruitment season.”

“So you haven’t been there long,” you say.  The war only ended a year ago. 

“Ten months,” he says cheerily.  “But it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“That’s commendable,” you say.  “It’s rewarding, I’m sure, but an intense order nonetheless.  I can’t imagine making so many sacrifices.”

“Can’t you?” 

The question is posed softly but lands heavily.  You suppose Jisung is correct; you have both made sacrifices to be where you are, though the journeys were very different, and your futures more so. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly.  “Fuck, that wasn’t my place.  Your Majesty.  Oh, fuck, I swore.  Fuck, sorry.  Ignore that.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself, catching the sound in your palm.  He laughs behind you.  Even with a sliver of distance between you, you can feel his chest shaking.

“Good thing foregoing curses is not one of your oaths,” you say.

“Oh, fuck, no, I’d fail that one for sure.  Sorry, ignore that too.” 

You are pretty sure he is being funny on purpose now, but you appreciate it, smiling as you move beneath a canopy of trees.  It is much cooler in the shade, alleviating the discomfort of the hot sun.  You exhale and let your posture slacken, just a bit, just enough your bodies touch on every downward canter. 

“Were you ever scared?” you ask.  The king’s carriage is ahead of you.  You watch the wheels turn and turn. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “A bit.  A lot.  Completely.  Not about the vows, though.  I was just scared I’d let everyone down.  Especially Chan.  He put his own reputation on the line when he stood for me.  I don’t know what he saw in me.  Gods only know no one else ever saw it.  Me included.”

He laughs at his self-deprecation but you do not.  You watch the shadows of the forest roll over the carriages.  You think of Jisung in that barn, risking everything for his friend.  Your cheek tingles, remembering where he wiped your tear during that lonely ceremony.  Your heart still races at the memory of him singing a springtime song, dedicated to you despite the antagonistic crowd.    

“I do,” you say.

“You do what?” he asks casually. 

“I see something good in you, Han Jisung.”   

“Ohh.”  He is stupefied for a moment.  You are not sure of his expression, too shy to look at him.   “Well, I don’t know about that,” he eventually says.  “I’m definitely the lowest ranked in the kingsguard.  Sorry for that, by the way.”

“Sorry?”  Now you look back, meeting his gaze.  “Why would you be sorry?”

“Well, uh…”  He looks away, to the road ahead, his voice strained with awkwardness.  “There’s a reason I was picked for proxy at the ceremony.  It’s not because I’m not the best swordsman, or the most pious priest.  I’m, uh, well… ‘bard boy’.  And the king – His Holy Majesty – he uh… well, I mean…  It had to be someone like a kingsguard but he didn’t want… I mean, that is…”

“It’s all right,” you say.  “You don’t have to say it. I understand.” 

he king was heaping insults on you and your family; of course he chose the lowest ranked kingsguard to stand in as proxy, just like he chose him now. 

Irritation creeps up your neck, heating your skin.  You glare at the carriage. 

You are not even annoyed for yourself.  Your insult has been established.  You angry that the king would make such a disrespectful insinuation for a member of the elite kingsguard.  The kingsguard service is as ancient as the regime.  They are a respectable, powerful order.  Admission to the order requires a great deal of work, more than simply being born in the right house.  The king has no right to insult a soldier like Jisung.  Just like he has no right to insult you. 

“So yeah,” Jisung says.  He clears his throat and tries to sound cheery as he says, “That’s why I’m sorry!  Anyway, it all worked out.  I’m sure I’m your favourite already, right?  I’m everyone’s favourite, obviously.” 

He is speaking jokingly but your heart skips a beat anyway.  You swallow, hard.   

In the next moment, the horse jumps, maneuvering around a ditch in the road.  You fall against his chest with a thump, throwing your hands out instinctively.  Your hand clasps his, your bodies pressed together. 

“Sorry,” you say in unison. 

“It’s all right,” he says.  “I got ya.”

It is spoken with nonchalance.   You still feel it.     

“I’m not sorry,” you say.  “I’m glad it was you, Jisung.” 

You turn, finding your lips close to his face.  He stares at you, as surprised as he is rivetted. 

Softly, so only he can hear, intimately, a breath away from him, you whisper, “I believe you saved my life even before you found me in that barn.  So yes.  I’m glad it was you.  I’m glad he chose you.  I would have chosen you too.”     

“Oh,” is all he says, moved to silence. 

You remain in his arms, leaning against his chest.  You pick up the melody he was humming and hum it yourself, making him laugh on an exhale.  You feel the tension leave his arms and his heartbeat skip then resume its normal cadence, steadying your own. 

[pomefioredove]

*does a little dance*

vil prompts you say? Can i get your take on Vil being confronted by Yuu's real and imminent return home? And it's their only chance too (ie. the portal can only be opened with a meteor traveling overhead and surprise surprise its passing NOW they have three days max)

*does a little jig, going away*

you guys love torturing this man omg. so much angst. I'm about to pour all my abandonment issues into him ikyk

summary: yuu leaving type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty, post-book 7 author's note: my partner has been ignoring me for the past few days (I can't figure out why) so vil is about to experience pain, as he should

There are only six visible letters in lonely, and a thousand more hiding behind them.

The word carries such a weight with it, its meaning and its leaden implications, crushing the lungs of all who dare to shoulder it. It's a sore, tender sort of hurt, one that constricts the chest and numbs the limbs. Paralyzing, strangulating.

They say beauty is pain, but Vil has never felt more hideous in his life.

He had known; of course he had known. There was always a possibility you'd get your chance to return to your home, a world alien to him, and never come back. He'd been preparing himself for that reality from the moment he met you.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Love is blind, but it's ignorant, too. Vil had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, covering it up with an if rather than a when, like throwing a veil over a tombstone. He had convinced himself that the chances of you leaving were slim, that when the time came, years from then, he'd be ready.

He wasn't counting on a few months.

"It works for about three days," you explain, a giddy smile on your face. He forces himself to share the expression. "The spell is so powerful, it can only be cast under specific circumstances... if I miss this, who knows when my next chance will be?"

Vil is an actor, yes, but this is different. This isn't something he's reading off a page to a room full of production assistants and actors. This is you and him, alone, tangled in an uncertain future with no ending in 12-point Courier.

His voice cracks. "That's wonderful,"

Sevens, is he selfish.

A part of him wants to slap you across the face and call you an idiot for even thinking about leaving him here, let alone being excited about it, but he can't even move his feet from where he's standing.

He should be celebrating with you.

He should be happy that you get to escape this terrible place. You get to go home, where you're accepted as you are, and loved, and where you belong...

But you belong with him. He accepts you. He loves you. Why do you need anyone else? What can they offer than he can't?

It's an egotistical fantasy Vil holds in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, one where you wake up and realize that your place is here, by his side, and not a world away from him.

He tries to convince himself it's not the end yet. Perhaps the spell will fail. Perhaps Crowley will change his mind. Perhaps someone else will overblot and throw the school into chaos. Each thought is more indulgent than the last, but without them, he might have lost his mind before noon.

What is he supposed to do?

Smile and wave while the only person who has ever understood and loved him unconditionally leaves him forever? Make a fool of himself pretending to be happy for you?

Every second without the certainty of seeing you the next day feels like an eternity.

It's wrong. He knows that. He can't keep you chained to the foot of his throne like a pet. You want to go, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along.

Once again, Vil only comes in second.

[toskarin]

Toskarin as you are a wise and traveled user of the internet I turn to you with a difficult question: how do I express to my older relative that I think it is really awesome that they are essentially a fujoshi. In addition to published works, they write and consume BL fanfiction but only volunteered this info after I mentioned that I read kinda trashy romance and fanfiction. They were talking about it in kinda circular terms and I don't want to come across to strong. real question, what do?

"I like your yaoi, [relative]" and then you clap a hand on their shoulder and be sure to grip tightly. maximum eye contact, firm but cold

[inkareds]

To Someone from A Warm Climate

Rhaenyra Targaryen (F! Reader)

8/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.1k ✧.* genre: GAYYYY GAY GAY GAY ✧.* warnings: irrelevant ass warning, I wrote this when I was sick at 2am on a fuck ton of stomach medicine! It is unedited and I don't know how it looks! I refuse to re-read it! Also female reader and like it kinda ooc for the Stark family and stuff.

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

What's better than a comforting friend in the cold?

Also quick info just in case people don't know: Rickon Stark and Gilliane Glover are Cregan's parents, Rickon has a brother named Bennard Stark who had 3 sons, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric.

(ps I have not watched the new episodes so I don't know how they handled Cregan and Jacaerys there)

“You seem cold, princess.” Rhaenyra quickly turned her head around at the voice.

You politely bow when she meets your gaze. 

“Alas, it seems the north’s climate is not for me.” She answers as you smile at her words. 

“It rarely is for people from the south.” Walking closer to her you introduce yourself. “Lord Bennard’s youngest bastard.” 

Rhaenyra’s face morphed into that of a confused wonder at your brazen statement. 

“I did not see you when Lord Rickon introduced his house, Lady Snow-”

“I am neither a lady nor part of the great House Stark, addressing me by my first name is enough, princess.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as you moved closer towards her. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d be received as warmly as you are now by Rhaenyra. 

You had heard of the news that the princess would conduct her tour to find a suitor across Westeros a while ago. Of course, it would take ages before she arrived in Winterfell, but now that she was here it felt surreal. 

Just a few hours ago you were able to sneak around The Great Keep within Winterfell Castle to be able to see the princess’ first introductions towards your family. Lord Rickon Stark, your uncle, introduced himself and his younger brother, your father, Bennard Stark, as well as his sons, your half-brothers, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark. Being a bastard, you weren’t allowed to attend this formal event, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t spy on them. 

The princess was radiant, despite her long travels, she was still able to keep her head held high and regality was clear in the way she spoke. Though the Lady Stark, Gilliane Glover warned you on approaching the princess, fearing what your father’s punishment to you would be, you couldn’t help yourself. 

So now you find yourself here, side by side next to the princess, talking as carelessly as you usually would. 

“Where are your knights, princess? I didn’t expect you to walk around unattended.” You looked around not seeing any guards around her, including the tall one who seemed to follow her around everywhere. 

“I sent them away, for the time being, I’d like to enjoy the snow alone.” 

She smiled at you as you understood what she meant, nodding and taking a few steps back you spoke, “Ah, I see, forgive me then. I shall leave you to your devices.” 

That was when she laughed, a sound so melodic you now understood why they called her the Realm’s Delight. 

“Apologies, I do not mean you, I mean alone away from men. After my long tour, I bore at the sight of many of them tripping over themselves trying to win my favour.” Hearing that you picked yourself back up and placed yourself back by her side. 

“I do not blame them, if I were a Lord from a noble house, I would swear my land, blood, and soul for you.” From the corner of your eye, you see the young princess open her mouth ever so slightly to say something, before looking back out into the falling snow. 

“Are you enjoying the summer snow, Your Highness?” 

“Summer?” Rhaenyra sputtered, “I’m afraid it is far too cold for summer.” 

She turned towards you with an expression of disbelief, but you only laughed and stepped out from the shade over you into the snow. Rhaenyra watched as the light snow trickled onto your many furs and hair, all the while you reached out to grab some on your naked hand. 

“Would you mind taking off one of your gloves, Your Highness?” 

Confused but intrigued, Rhaenyra took off her glove on her right hand, as you placed some of the snowflakes on her open palm. Holding her hand in both of yours so that she wouldn’t be too cold without the glove you began explaining. 

“The North is cold, far too cold for any real summers that I’m sure you experience. But when winter comes, the snowflakes will be sharper and harder to the touch.” Rhaenyra lightly crushed the snowflakes in her hands, feeling them melt almost immediately. “Summer snow, on the other side, is softer and wetter. It melts the moment your body heat touches it. And it only happens in the morning such as now. By noon, all the snow will be gone and the farmers will start tending to their crops.”

Rhaenyra intently listened as you explained. She was far too young last she went to The North, all she remembered was the everlasting cold the entire time she was there with her father and late mother. How she used to pout as a mere toddler due to the chill. 

Thinking back on it a shiver ran through her. You took notice of this and immediately wiped the melted snow from the princess’ hands and urged her to quickly use her glove again. 

“I mustn't keep forgetting how cold Southerners get this far North. If you will allow me, princess, I know a place in The Great Keep where it should be warmer, while simultaneously allowing you to still enjoy the view.” 

You had expected Rhaenyra to politely decline your invitation, you’d been acting far too forward with her and you wondered when you’d be reminded of the difference in your status. But, surprising you, and herself, Rhaenyra agreed, her want for warmth overpowering her duties. Knowing right now she should be returning to her chambers and readying herself for a feast with the Starks. 

But she couldn’t help herself be led by the bastard girl with too few sugar-coated words. You led her through mazes of hallways you grew up in, looking to your side now and again to watch Rhaenyra wonder at the sheer size of Winterfell. The castle was big, you knew that much, and from what little Gilliane Glover was able to teach you behind your father’s back, you heard it was almost three times bigger than the Red Keep where the princess resided. 

When you finally reached where you wanted the air was much warmer than it had been and it had stopped snowing. 

“Touch the walls,” you instructed the princess as you gracefully leaned on one. 

Rhaenyra reached to touch the cobblestone walls, it was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost hot in certain parts. Despite where they are, a simple hallway which opens to the outside. The view was breathtaking. A large tree was in sight and plants flourished on the ground. Colourful wildflowers of all shades of blue, purple, and pink decorated the landscape. 

“How can the wildflowers grow here?” She asked. 

“Do you see over there? The smoke?” you pointed out not so far out, and truth be told there was some billowing smoke. “Those are the springs which Winterfell is built around. I can’t take you there as a lot of servants and maids are there to care for it. But it is the warmest place in all of the north. The waters there are then distributed through pipes all within the walls to warm the castle.” 

Seeing the way Rhaenyra kept listening, you continued, rather happy to have someone to talk to other than maids or servants twice your age. 

“This area of the castle is where most of the main pipes converge, that’s why it’s the warmest. Aside from the solar and the Starks’ bed chambers.” 

“It is still awfully cold.” Rhaenyra muses, though with the way she grinned you suspected she was just jesting. So, you chuckled. 

“I guess, I wouldn’t know. The cold is all I ever known.” You spoke with a smile, staring out into the plants swaying lightly against the wind. 

Hearing this, the young princess looked at you with her brows furrowed. 

“Have you not left the North? Surely you must, as Lord Bennard’s daughter I assumed you are well traveled.” 

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, wondering how to explain your predicament to the princess without souring the mood. 

“I assume you think this way because I’m living here rather than discarded like most bastards are?” Rhaenyra’s silence was telling, “Lady Gilliane Glover was the one who took me in after she found out of my existence. I assume she wanted another lady in the castle, considering she has no child of her own and my father has all sons.” 

You fiddled with your fingers out of general nerves. You did not want to sadden the princess or make her uncomfortable with your sob story. You’ve accepted it, but it seems anyone you’ve told it to have been pitiful about it. 

“Despite my father’s wishes, she took me in.” You told her honestly.  “I have no titles nor duties, I’m simply here to accompany the lady.” 

You finally lifted your head to smile at Rhaenyra. Truth be told, you wondered at times what would happen to you once the lady passes or once she has a child of her own. Alas, what happens in the future will stay a mystery until it comes. 

Feeling the silence to be slowly stifling, you broke the sullen atmosphere. 

“But I wouldn’t know where to go even if I had the chance to travel. What do you recommend princess? Where do you like to go? I’m sure you’ve been on a lot of adventures on your great dragon.” 

At the mention of Syrax, a soft smile crept its way onto Rhaenyra’s expression. Causing your heart to skip a beat. 

“Dragonstone.” she stated without much thought. “It overlooks the sea, you could hear the waves crash against stone as you slumber, it is comforting.” 

Before you can ask further about Dragonstone, her ancestral seat, Lady Giliane Glover rushes into the area. 

“Your Highness, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She quickly bowed before her gaze met towards you. 

You bashfully avoid her questioning gaze, knowing you’re up for an earful once she gets you alone. Lady Gilliane had always reminded you to keep your head low, afraid that you may invoke your father’s anger and get banished from the castle walls. But oftentimes, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, it wasn’t your fault your half-brothers, though older, were dumber and much more susceptible to pranks. 

“Excuse me, I was looking for my niece, it seems I should’ve known she was bothering you.” Gilliane spoke softly, giving an apologetic smile towards the princess. 

To which Rhaenyra shook her head, looking between the two of you she realises the time. Despite her annoyance over having to be seated with three potential suitors, all sons of Bennard Stark, she must fulfil her duty. 

“Nonsense, she was showing me around, the castle is far too large and I found myself at a lost on how to go to where I wanted.” 

“Of course! I should have appointed one of ours to accompany you.” 

Rhaenyra went silent for a little bit, briefly looking beside her at you, not that you noticed, your gaze sticking only at Gilliane’s. 

“Right, I must return to my chambers now. I wish to rest before the feast.” 

Gilliane nodded and motioned for one of her guards to lead the princess towards her room. When they were out of earshot that’s when she placed her attention on you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself can you?” Though her words were sharp, her tone was light and kind. 

“Apologies, my lady. The princess looked lonely.” 

She sighed as a response, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“What will I do with you, dear child.” She chuckled as she grasped your hand in hers. 

The older woman smiled at you. You’ve always known she had a soft spot for you, but every day you were still grateful for her kindness. As the two of you walked, Gilliane leaned in towards you. 

“I hope you are as kind to my child as you are to the princess.” 

Your eyes widened, “You are expecting, my lady?!” 

Gilliane grinned widely and patted your head. 

“I am, a son I feel, though we will only know for sure when the babe comes. But when they do, I hope you will care for them as I have cared for you. I have a feeling your half-brothers will not be as welcoming.” 

Hearing the news you nodded to her. That day a silent oath was spoken in your mind. To repay all of Lady  Gilliane Glover’s kindness, you’ll make sure to protect her child no matter what. 

~

Unfortunately for you, despite your best efforts, you were not able to talk to Rhaenyra for the entirety of her visit to Winterfell. At Lord Rickon Stark’s insistence, Rhaenyra always had a maid, servant, or knight with her throughout the day to guide her and give her a tour of Winterfell as a whole. 

Because of this, the princess hadn’t had a single moment alone except when she slept. Considering how Bennard Stark had warned you the day after he heard the news that you were speaking to the princess unattended, you didn’t want people to see you talking to the princess, afraid of the consequences to her reputation. 

After all, she shouldn’t be seen talking carelessly to a thrown-away bastard such as yourself. 

Nonetheless, you still came across her quite often. Having no real duties except accompanying Lady Gilliane who was now quite busy with dealing with the royal guest in her home. You roamed around the castle mindlessly more often than not. So you ran across the princess a lot as well. 

Every time you did see her, she looked quite tired and lonely. At times you wondered if she was getting enough sleep, if her room was too cold for her. 

“You know, I heard the princess was fond of lace,” Lady Gilliane suddenly spoke. 

The two of you were currently in the library taking a well-deserved break, well, well-deserved on Lady Gilliane’s part. Your head quirked in confusion at her sudden statement. You had been so engrossed in your book about Dragonstone that you hadn’t been paying attention to the lady. 

“Is that so, my lady?” You questioned. 

You looked up from your book at her who was currently in her book. One about fairytales, you wondered if she was memorising them for when her babe would arrive. 

“Yes, and I have also heard that you finished your lace handkerchief recently.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of Lady Gilliane’s knowing grin. 

“That, I have, my lady.” You mused to yourself, standing up from where you were seated, “If you will excuse me, I remembered I promised Elric that I’d watch his archery practice.” 

Even you rolled your rolled your eyes the moment the excuse came out of your mouth. Lady Gilliane stifled a chuckle at the obvious lie. 

“Right, wouldn’t want to make your half-brother wait, I’m glad the two of you are getting along well.” Sarcasm was laced strongly in her statement.

That was how you found yourself currently inside Rhaenyra’s room, waiting for her to finish another feast with the Starks, fiddling with the lace handkerchief in your hands. Tonight would be the last night Rhaenyra Targaryen would be staying in the North. After days of conversing with your family and meeting other suitable suitors within the area, she will finally go back South to continue her tour tomorrow morning. 

This would be the last time you’d be able to speak with the princess. 

You quickly stood up from where you were sitting when the heavy doors opened. In came a weary-looking princess, whose whole demeanour froze up when she saw you. You froze for a moment as well, seeing her, heat filling your body at the realisation that she could easily have you banished from Winterfell if she thought you were overstepping. 

But you swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to go for it. After all, what can a bastard lose?

“My princess, apologies, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to speak with you in the company of my uncle’s men or your own men. So I thought it would be best to wait in your chambers. I wanted to give you this,” you sputtered, wanting to make your point before Rhaenyra called for the guards to kick you out of her chambers. 

Rhaenyra’s silence caused anxiety to bubble up within you, as you walked towards her to hand her the handkerchief. Truth be told, it wasn’t a functional handkerchief, as such was the properties of lace, sheer and delicate. But you had created it in the shape of one, so you called it one.

She picked up the delicate white lace from your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against one another causing sparks to flow from your fingertips into your heart. Was the princess always this beautiful? 

Rhaenyra observed the design, letting her dainty hands caress the intricate patterns and craftsmanship. It was far from perfect and definitely far from the quality of lace professional lacemakers in King’s Landing would create for her dresses. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a tightening feeling in her heart the more she caressed the fabric. 

“I had only wanted to practice my craftsmanship, but when I finished it reminded me of you.” 

The design was that of a flower, one that Rhaenyra did not recognise. 

“What flower is this?” 

“Snowdrop, my lady, it is a flower that grows in the cold. They look quite delicate and soft but are one of the hardiest and strongest flowers I know. They also symbolise hope.” You explained quickly, hands behind your back fidgeting against the stitching of your dress. 

Rhaenyra looked closer at the lace. 

“Hope,” she slowly looked up at you and smiled. 

A dazzling one, one that would buckle your knees and make you melt to the ground as if you were hit with Dorne’s heat. 

“I-” she started holding the lace, “I’ll treasure it, thank you.” 

Hearing her heartfelt statement brought a bright smile to your face. Quickly followed by a rush of heat. The princess seems to have a flustering effect on you. 

When silence followed suit, you nodded to yourself and were just about to walk past the princess to leave, feeling awkward now that you didn’t know what else to say. But mimicking the first time you met, Rhaenyra stopped you again. 

“It’s cold.” She suddenly stated. 

You quirked your head to the side slightly at the confusing sudden statement. 

“I can ask the servants to bring more firewood to your fireplace if you’d like.” 

Rhaenyra shook her head, taking a few steps closer to you. 

“I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m asking if you’d like to stay here for the night, I feel as though it is loneliness that’s causing a chill in my bones. It would bring me comfort to have a friend accompany my last night in this foreign land.” 

Immediately you were thankful for the darkness, aside from the large fireplace which warmed the room, you were both in. Considering your expression at her question probably exposed your flustered interior. After a short pause to recollect yourself. You smiled warmly at the princess. 

“My father did tell me to make sure the Targaryens are well cared for. I would be distraught if you slept cold on your last night here.” 

With a giggle, Rhaenyra quickly grabbed your hand and headed straight to in front of the fireplace. That night the two of you spoke like old friends. Though at first, you baulked at the casualness of which you were speaking to someone of a much higher class than you were. You were quickly charmed by Rhaenyra’s friendly nature. 

Though you did not know it, your company had brought more comfort to Rhaenyra than you could ever imagine. The bone-chilling loneliness she’d been experiencing due to the loss of her friend Alicent, had brought much grief to her. The ease with which your conversation flowed as you both joked and jested with one another reminded her of an easier time. 

As the night went deeper, the two of you found yourselves in bed. It reminded you of the first few times you had been brought into the castle, confused and lost at how a common beggar such as yourself could suddenly be brought into the castle where you seldom sleep. That is until Lady Gilliane caught wind of it and slept in your bedchambers with you until you got used to the noble life.

Though, of course, the stakes were slightly different this time. Although the way your heart was hammering against your chest was quite similar, you guessed the reasoning for it was different. Back then, it was the nervousness of feeling unworthy of the attention of a noble. This time, it was nervousness from something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on just yet. 

But now as you stared into Rhaenyra’s eyes, both of you lay on her bed on your sides you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You remind me of snow, princess.” 

Rhaenyra’s brows quirked in a way you found positively adorable. 

“Soft and beautiful but with the ability to be harsh and strong. The colour of your hair helps with the imagery as well.” You added the last bit to lighten the mood of your statement a little bit. 

Something that seemed to work as the princess grinned. 

“You remind me of a wolf.” She stated, “Strong and resilient, yet loyal and intelligent. Equally as beautiful as well.” 

She whispered the last part. 

A comforting silence then befalls between the two of you. You couldn’t help but get lost in the princess’ eyes. They were so full of life, that you wondered what it would look like in any other times. What did Princess Rhaenyra look like when she was elated? When she’s entertained? When she’s sad? Angry? Terrified? In love? 

You guessed she must look beautiful no matter what. The image in your mind pushed your hand to move not according to your own volition. You brought one of your hands to the princess’ cheek, caressing her soft skin under your fingertips ever so slightly. 

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, though she did not pull back, quite the contrary. She leaned closer to your face. Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you, your lips shyly touching her own. Rhaenyra reciprocated as shyly. A chaste kiss was shared before you jolted backwards. 

Quickly sitting up, you covered your mouth in shock. What have you done?

“Princess! I’m sorry– I– I overstep. I forget myself. My deepest apologies–” You muttered nonsensically before fully standing up on the floor and rushing towards the doors. 

Leaving Rhaenyra silent and shocked on the bed. Her fingers touch her lips ever so slightly at the soft touch of your lips. Remembering the short moment, a small smile crept onto her face, though you were now halfway on your way back to your room. Mortified and terrified for the morning. 

~

When morning did end up coming, you did not expect to be woken up by some maids. Usually, both your father and the reigning Lord Rickon Stark left you on your own. Choosing to forget about your existence. This led to you dealing with your own empty schedule yourself, as Lady Gilliane was usually only free at noon or afternoons anyway. Which were the times she would want you to accompany her. 

You’d usually make your way to the kitchens to have breakfast or an early lunch with the other maids, eating whatever food they provided for you. 

But this time, maids quickly came into your room and went to wake you. Surprising you. They quickly drew a bath and fussed over your appearance. Before you could properly regain your thoughts and get a concise answer on why they were treating you as one of the Starks, you were already pushed out of your chambers and led outside. 

When you saw the crowd from afar, that was when you realised something. You were going to be with your family to bid Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen farewell. How mortifying!

Finally being led to your side of the family, you stood beside your youngest half-brother Elric Stark who glared at you. In the corner of your vision, you see Lady Gilliane look over towards you, clueing you on who set up the entire thing. 

Not too long after a myriad of armed guards left the building and behind them followed the princess. 

She looked radiant, her hair in intricate braids which reminded you of the drawings of Visenya you’ve seen in books. Her dress was layered with coats upon coats of fur, clearly preferring to wear more outer layers than making sure her dress was thick enough, likely to make the changing climates as she leaves the north easier to deal with. 

As customs dictate, she thanks Lord Rickon Stark and Lady Gilliane Glover for their hospitality. She then respectfully regarded your father and your half-brothers. You kept your head held high but avoided her gaze as she walked towards her carriage. 

Right before she reached there, she stopped in front of you. With nowhere else to look you looked at the princess. 

“I thank you for your company, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She grasped your hand in hers and you felt her discretely hand you something. “I wish to take you to Dragonstone if time allows it. I shall request you to be one of my ladies-in-waiting formally later on once I have reached King’s Landing.” 

Your eyes widened at her statement. The offer wasn’t an offer given to bastards such as yourself. They were given to daughters of second-rated houses so that they may learn under a daughter of a higher house. Not someone like you who belongs to no house. 

“I am honoured at your offer, princess, I pray for your safe travels.” You bowed your head as Rhaenyra nodded and made her way towards the carriage. 

You brought your hand to your back, hiding the item she handed to you discretely. 

You would later find out after the entire ordeal was over, that she had handed you a necklace of hers. It was a simple yet intricate necklace, one made of silver chain which held a trinket shaped like a three-headed dragon. You held the gesture close to your heart, thanking the old gods and the new that she did not push away your advancements. 

Lady Gilliane could only chuckle as she heard you tell what happened in Rhaenyra’s chambers. Though you did omit the details about the kiss. 

~

In the year that followed, Cregan Stark was born, two years after, your lady would give the realm another Stark heir. Though it was then the animosity between Lord Bennard as well as his sons, your half-brothers, and Cregan. 

You had assumed they thought the Winterfell seat would fall onto them, considering Lord Rickon Stark was old and had not had an heir yet. That was until Cregan and his younger brother. 

Seeing this, you did everything you could to protect the two of them from your father’s selfishness, knowing firsthand what his scheming was like. It got even worse at the birth of Sara Snow and Cregan’s insistence on keeping his little sister in his life. 

It wouldn’t be long after that when Lord Rickon Stark would travel to King’s Landing to pledge loyalty to Rhaenyra as heir to the throne. A part of you wished you could come with him, you wanted to see what Rhaenyra was like now. But another part of you knew you needed to stay in Winterfell and protect Lord Rickon’s children in his absence. 

When the time came and Lord Rickon passed, followed by Lady Gilliane and their youngest child, Cregan was far too young to rule. You could only watch in the background as your father took the seat until Cregan was of age. Though when he finally did, your father slowed to give the seat. 

You could feel tensions rise between them, tensions which could easily bleed into bloodshed. Though you had no sympathy nor love for any of your half-brothers or your father. You did not wish for their deaths, after all, they were family, whether you liked it or not. 

So, you came to Cregan with a proposition. Your help to get his seat back without unnecessary bloodshed which could tear Winterfell into two, in return for a seat in his council. It need not be official if he did not want Lords of different lands to wonder why a woman was counselling him. You just wanted him to make use of your mind and the ease that came with being a bastard who had no need to uphold a family name. 

He was quick to accept your proposition, having no reason to distrust you after the years you’ve spent together. The events which followed came in quick succession afterwards. You betrayed your father and half-brother, imprisoned them, and were quick to name Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell. In return, he officially gave you a spot in his council. 

Your life became quite different after that. With your new duties and responsibilities, you were quick to drown yourself in work and books. Filling your mind with knowledge and anything that may help your cousin in dealing with the tumultuous land that is the North. 

You had barely any time to think about Rhaenyra or anything considering the politics of King’s Landing, leaving that to Cregan as he left the inner workings of Winterfell to you. 

That is, until a dragon arrives in Winterfell. 

~

“Who is it?” You quickly asked Cregan, who despite his much younger age than you, had grown taller and stronger than you. 

“I assume either Aegon asking us to place our loyalty on him or one of Queen Rhaenyra’s sons.” You grinned. 

“You called her queen,” you stated Cregan’s words, who rolled his eyes, “I only hope it is not Aegon, if it is, I think we’ll have quite the sour visit.” 

Though your words were light, a part of you hoped it was one of Rhaenyra’s sons. At this point, you hadn’t seen her for too many years and a small hopeful part of you yearned to meet her once more. Or at the very least, see a semblance of her in the shape of her son. 

As Cregan wanted to greet the guest alone you excused yourself and returned to your work. There was no point in hoping for something that may not be true. But as you grabbed a piece of paper detailing the current stocks of wheat, your eyes dragged onto an ornate box neatly kept beside your bed. 

Where it has been for decades. 

Gritting your teeth and wondering if you should, your heart went against your mind and you stood from your table to reach for it. Holding the black and red box in your hands you, once again, debated on opening it. In the beginning, you would open the box and observe its content almost every day after you woke up and just before you slept. 

Now the box had stayed closed after Lord Rickon’s passing, considering you had to focus on Cregan and not your own silly fantasies. 

But today, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers danced on the latch before opening the box, within it a single object lays flat. The necklace was as beautiful as the day you received it. The dragons looking at you with its menacing eyes. You caressed it with a smile, reminiscing about a simpler time. 

You closed it back once you’ve wasted enough time and went back to your work. 

It was late at night once you finished your calculations. As always you brought your findings to Cregan’s study, it was late at night, you assumed he must’ve already finished his talks with the guest and had ushered whoever it was to rest. 

It brought you great surprise to open the doors of his study only to find him laughing with said guest. A bottle of expensive Dornish wine opened and drained of its contents on the table beside them. Seeing his dark curls, you assumed the young man in front of you now was Jacaerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s son. And not Aegon. 

Hearing the door open, Cregan was quick to look at who would dare enter without announcing themselves. Only immediately relaxing when he saw that it was you. With a smile he stood from where he sat, Jacaerys quickly followed suit. 

“This woman here is my advisor. She is my half-cousin, though I consider her almost like a sister.” He explained after introducing your name. 

“My lords, apologies for interrupting, I had brought the crop stocks you had asked for early this morning.” You motioned towards the papers you were currently holding. 

Cregan was quick to sober, he took the papers as you handed and placed them in a neat pile on his table. 

“Thank you, I will look through them as soon as I can-”

“You are her.” Both you and Cregan snapped your head towards Jacaerys’ voice, confused at his coded statement. Realising his mistake, Jacaerys shook his head, “Apologies, I meant that I did not expect you to match exactly the descriptions my mother told to me.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and so did Cregan’s. 

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, my mother, had asked me to relay a message to you if I were to find you. You are the Lady Snow, yes?” 

At the question, you stifled a chuckle, a sense of deja vu at your first meeting with Rhaenyra hitting you once again. 

“I am not a lady but yes, I suppose I am, unless you are referencing to Sara.” 

“No– My mother wanted to extend an invitation to you.” Cregan now stood straighter at Jacaerys words, brows furrowing.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, silently willing him to relax. Unfortunately for him, you had never told him about your quick friendship with Rhaenyra. So you assumed he thought Jacaerys’ statement sounded rather dangerous. 

“She said she wanted to honour her promise that she made years ago about taking you to Dragonstone.” 

Your eyes, along with Cregan’s, widened like plates. 

“What?” Cregan was the first to break the sudden silence. Though you were quick to hold his arm, signing silently to him that it wasn’t anything threatening. Despite the odd way Jacaerys speaking. 

“I’m–” you awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll be frank– I can’t believe she still remembered that. I– I have too much work here, summer is about to end and winter is coming. Perhaps,” you fiddled with your fingers your mind working in double time, “Perhaps, I’ll take up on your offer once this war is over. I trust my cousin followed the oath the late Lord Rickon made when swearing Princess Rhaenyra as heir?” 

Jacaerys and Cregan looked at each other for a bit before nodding, “Indeed I have.” 

You nodded and turned, “Then I shall take my leave.” 

“I’ll accompany you back to your bedchambers, dear cousin.” Cregan, ever the protective person, was quick to state. 

With a nod, you both turned to walk out the door, before you remembered something. Considering Cregan’s busy schedule and your own, you didn’t know when would be the last time you’d see Jacaerys. So you quickly went over towards him, taking off the necklace around your neck and handing it to him. 

“When you leave, I’d like for you to give this to the Queen, as a token of my gratitude.” You smiled and returned to where Cregan was once Jacaerys nodded and pocketed the necklace. 

Cregan watched with furrowed brows as the two of you walked away. 

“Why would you give him that? You’ve worn that necklace for as long as I remembered.” He asked once the two of you were out of earshot. 

“Do you recall ever seeing the pendant at the middle of the necklace?” 

He scoffed. 

“Never, you always wore it backwards.” 

“Precisely, I only want the princess to see the engravings.” 

Before Cregan could ask you to elaborate you had returned to your room. 

~

Amid chaos and tragedy, Rhaenyra lay on her bed alone. After sending Daemon off to deal with an army north of Dragonstone on Caraxes, she could hardly sleep thinking about the atrocities both she and Aegon had done. Blood was spilt on both sides of the coin now that the war was deep in the works. 

It felt like just yesterday that her dearest Lucerys had been killed by Aemond. When in reality it had been months pass now. 

Her hand mindlessly grabbed at the necklace on her bedside table. The shivering cold silver grounded her to reality. It reminded her of the North and its cold. But when she turned the pendant around. A wry smile crept onto her features. 

There engraved in the pendant was the carving of a wolf, surrounded with snowdrops. 

Holding the pendant tight in the palm of her hands, she swore to win the war, take her rightful place as Queen, and finally fulfil her promise to you. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Full And Filling

King John x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 10: Toys

Summary: The King receives a gift.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

Warnings: kissing, pet names, dildo (anal - m!receiving), p in v sex, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1755

“And what’s in this one?” You ask, lightly touching the edge of the gilded box. 

The King shrugs, “Some things Lord Bateman brought back from his travels.” 

You smile, lightly teasing, “More gifts?” 

He tuts at you, but it’s playful. “Cannot the King of the realm be bestowed with gifts from his subjects who belove him?” 

You snort, giving him a look from where he’s reclining on the sofa in front of the fire. “Subjects who would like to get on your good side, you mean.”  

He grins and waves his hand dismissively. “He’s already on my good side.” 

“And he wants to stay that way,” you smile and gesture to the several boxes littering the table, his desk, and floor. “And this is only a fraction.” 

The King shrugs, snuggling down in the seat as he smiles wickedly. “I like gifts.” 

“I know you do.” 

You turn back to the box, you’re not sure why this one in particular is drawing your attention. There are more beautifully and luxuriously decorated ones. 

“You can open it.” John yawns, stretching. “I haven’t looked inside most of them yet.” 

“Are you sure, Your Highness?” 

He pouts, blinking at you. “I told you not to call me that when you’re here with me.” 

“I like the expression you make.” You tease and he tries to scowl and not smile. 

He sits up, leaning on his arms to watch as you open the box. 

There are a few things inside. First, wrapped in silks is an ornate glass vial of a thick, clear liquid. You admire it for a moment before you put it back down.

“A drink?” The King asks. 

You shake your head, “I’m not sure.” and unwrap another item. You chuckle in spite of yourself.

“What is it?” He asks, his head tilted to the side in interest. 

“Lord Bateman has an interesting taste in gifts.” 

He raises an eyebrow.

You turn and hold out the object to him. It’s smooth, polished wood that almost feels like glazed pottery in your hands. A perfectly carved, large, cock with a solid base at the bottom. 

To your surprise, and absolute delight, a flush runs across the King’s skin, reddening his cheeks. His mouth opens a little, his eyes widening. 

“Oh, is this the kind of thing you used to do with Lord Bateman?” You grin, glee bubbling in your chest as you goad him. 

“I… it was not.” He doesn’t sound very convincing. 

“Oh, it is.” You’re unable to stop yourself. Suddenly the liquid in the vial makes much more sense. You grab hold of it in your left hand, the phallus in your right, and step towards the King. 

He watches as you move around and stand directly in front of him. You hold out the wooden sculpture, wiggling it ever so slightly. 

He swallows. His eyes dark. 

“It must be for you.” He says, his voice quiet, softer than usual. 

You shake your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You smile, leaning towards him. “I think this is especially for you.” 

He holds your gaze, shifting a little. “How?” He asks, knowing the answer. His mouth dry. 

“Inside.” You say softly, sitting down on the edge of the sofa and leaning closer, your chest touching his. 

“Inside?” 

You nod. “Inside.” 

He groans, biting his lip and titling his jaw up. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, using your little gasp of surprise to lick into your mouth greedily. 

You kiss him back fiercely, trying your best to keep up with him. He trails his lips down to your jaw, sucking at your neck and pushing his fingers under your clothing. 

You moan his name, low and needy, and he chuckles. He takes the vial and cock from your hands, throwing them to the side, as he sits up and pulls you into his lap. 

It’s dizzyingly fast how quickly he pulls your clothing from you, and you're thankful for the warmth of the fire and heat from his body. 

He groans as you squirm against him, nips at the spot just below your ear as he runs his fingers along your core. 

“Seems you like the idea of me having things inside.” He chuckles into your skin as he spreads the wetness between your legs up to your clit.

You jump, grabbing hold of his shoulders. Your mouth open to speak. But you don’t get the chance. 

He pushes two of his thick fingers inside you greedily, his mouth agape and watching you intently as you gasp and whine. 

“That’s it, that’s it.” He soothes, rocking his painfully hard cock against your leg. He grins when you whine, arching into his touch. “I know, I know, feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

He curls his fingers as he rubs your clit with his thumb, stroking your walls in a motion that is ingrained into his memory. 

“Your Highness,” You breathe, unable to stop your voice from rising in pitch at the end. 

The King moans, the air catching in his throat. “Not playing fair, my love.” He rocks against your thigh harder as he speeds up his fingers, stroking you expertly to rush you towards your pleasure. 

Your legs burn and shake as you chase the rhythm of his hand. Your breathing growing louder as you tease and pulse around him. 

“Wait, wait,” he says softly, his eyes dark and lidded. 

You bite your lip, somehow managing to slow your hips as he pulls his fingers from your heat. You whine softly and he strokes your cheek with his free hand as he licks your slick from the other. 

“One moment, my love. I promise.” He groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste. 

He gently urges you off him and into the sofa before he quickly strips and takes hold of the wooden dildo and vial. He opens the bottle, pouring the liquid liberally onto the sculpted cock. 

He bites back a moan when he sees you watching. “Here,” his voice is strained, weak, as he passes you the base and settles back against the sofa, one foot on the cushions the other on the floor so that he is spread wide and open to you. 

“Please,” he says softly. “In here.” He slides his hand along his thigh to his opening, watching you with needy eyes. 

You don’t need to be told twice. 

Gently you press the tip against him, pushing gently. 

He gasps, throwing his head back for a second as you tease his entrance, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. “Harder, I can take it.” 

“I’m sure you can.” You tease and he gives you a wicked glare. You wait until he breathes in to speak before you push firmer, finally breaching him with the bulbous head.

He moans loudly, grabbing hold of your arm and nodding rapidly. “More.” 

“Greedy.” You mutter and he nods. 

“Oh, so greedy for you. For everything that you can give.” He whines at the end as the cock slides in deeper, deeper, deeper. 

You watch in awe, marvelling at how it disappears into him. How his heavy cock twitches and pulses with every inch he takes.

“Oh god,” he moans, his voice musical as the base finally settles flat against him.

“How does it feel?” 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” he shifts his hips a little, squeezing experimentally before he sits up slightly and urges you back into his lap. “Not as wonderful as it’s about to feel though.” He gasps as he eagerly spreads your lips with his hand while he guides his aching cock inside you. 

He notches his tip at your entrance and licks his lips. “Now you were so gentle, and took your time with me, my love.” He strokes his hand up to your waist. “Too kind. But I know you can handle this much faster.” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer as he rams up, grabbing you and forcing you down at the same moment. 

You let out a soft cry, your eyes closing as the sensation of him filling you cracks up your spine so suddenly. You whine his name, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he bucks and fucks into you at a brutal pace. 

“So, so, good, my love.” He swears, pistoning his hips, slamming up into your heat and then down onto the dildo. Pleasure sparks along his skin at the twin sensations, making him whine and shudder. 

He hits so deep, his movements breaking you apart so easily, like he has etched the spot to please you into his muscles.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He groans as you pulse around him, your walls squeezing him and sucking him deeper. “My love, oh god,” he closes his eyes as they roll back, biting his lip as sweat beads on his forehead and between your bodies. 

You hold onto him for dear life, unable to hold back your cries of pleasure as he keeps pushing you closer and closer with every rock and deep grind of his hips. 

He pulls you in for a searing kiss, swallowing your moans like they held the secrets of the universe. “My love,” he groans, the strain of holding off his orgasm clear in his voice. “I wish for you to fill me and be filled by me every day, every moment. Need you more than air, more than anything. I-” 

Your own cry cuts him off. Liquid pleasure races through your veins, alights every nerve as you pulse and sob, riding out your high on top of him before the strength is robbed from your bones by the force of your orgasm. 

The King moans, trying to watch you as you tense and come all over his cock. But he’s unable to stop himself from succumbing to his own pleasure. He thrusts twice before he comes deep, keeping you both pressed as close to each other as possible as he fills you.

He lays back fully on the sofa, pulling you on top of him and fully against his chest. He kisses the top of your head and you press your lips to his skin. 

After a few moments you lift your head, a cheeky smile on your face. “May I ask a question, Your Highness?” 

He frowns a little, knowing you are up to something. “Yes.” 

“Is the carved cock perhaps modelled after Lord Bateman’s-”

He growls and you squeal as he wraps one arm around you tight and tickles your side with the other.

Thank you for reading!

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