#made from my bath robe lol

[randomsufff]

HEHAHBFKI More South Park doodles I think I’m going insane.

Actually this is kind of the product of me being liking South Park way back in high school but was too embarrassed to draw them when I was bored in class and now it’s all kinda flooding back 💀

Read below if you want to know more about my New Kid and my thoughts behind some of the doodles cause this turned out longer then I though 💀

Anyways- introducing my New Kid. No name cause I literally have no idea. Whatever the cannon name is ig- though I’d think it’d be funny if she was referred to New Kid by literally everyone like in game. I like the idea that a lot of people have with their New Kids that they liked the makeover section with the girls during the Stick of Truth a little too much. I also like it cause… uh… I didn’t play Stick of Truth. (The combat system is not my cup of tea) So it’s not until the start of TFBW does she know shes really a girl.

To give context to the top right drawing- I couldn’t remember the dialogue Wendy says in the alleyway if you say you’re a trans girl- but I do know what she says if your a cis girl (I always knew you were a girl) cause I did a second play through as a cis girl. And I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a huge time jump between the end of Stick of Truth and TFBW but I think it would be funny if it was just the next day- so combine these two fact to get “Wendy always clocked New Kid as a girl but NK just found out yesterday 💀”

Anyways- she’s such a cutie, I love her and her cool superhero outfit I gave her. Outside of the game- I’d like to think of her basically exactly how she acts in game. Mostly non-verbal, with the occasional zingy one liner, and just kinda goes along with the crazy shit the happens in South Park un phased. Like if she was in a episode- the plot would happen and she would be on screen, but wouldn’t say anything, and anytime another character would address her, they’d respond however as if she spoke lmao. Aroace, just like me, so she’s just friends with everyone (except Cartman) and vibes with everyone.

The mini Style comic I though of cause 1) I wondered if Kyle had the same elf ears as the other elfs did in game (again, never played and it’s been a while since I saw gameplay so whoops if it’s confirmed or whatever) and 2) I thought it would be funny if Stan was caught lacking and tried to /rp his way out of it (I wanted to add an extra bit where Kyle would be like “Oh, are our characters gay for each other??? (ARE YOU /SRS OR /J STAN)” and Stan would have to just “yes, and” his way out.)

The last three images were kinda of a stream of consciousness put on paper and made neat lol. I really like showing that all the costumes the kids wear are homemade and stuff- either stuff taken from their parents or visibly taped together etc- cause I think it’s charming. Anyways- I though Kyle’s little robe could be like one of his parents bath robe- and it would be a little too long for him to run without eating shit so he’d have to hike it up like a skirt/dress. Which lead to me thinking that Cartman would say some shit about that and how Kyle, who has a literal Golf Club, would smack his ass up. Which then lead to me thinking about how since Kyle’s the Elf King and Stan’s basically his right hand how he might lift it up wedding dress style if needed (/RP GUYS, RIGHT?RIGHT???) and how Cartman would react, which lead to that one JoJo meme cause thats literally how they’d retaliate.

Always- I’ll probably have at least one more post about South Park I swear. There was a period of time before I stopped watching (I gotta pick it up again) where I would doodle a bit of whatever was happening in the episode, each episode. Crazy I know, but not only did it improve my drawing skills but it helped me remember what actually happened in episodes cause I have shit memory and definitely don’t remember some of the episodes I watched. So I might redraw some of those- see if anyone can tell what episode they’re from.

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Arteries x Reader] 3751 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: Ur gonna hate me but I’m splitting what was originally going to be this chapter in half. It’s getting longggg.

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Dune masterlist

Seven———

The next day you were awakened by the sound of knocking at your bedroom door. You slowly sit up in bed, stretching your shoulders and back as you rouse yourself from sleep.

One of the house maids is at your door, she bows respectfully before placing a robe down on a nearby chair.

“My lady, you have been summoned to the baths,” she says politely, “they have prepared everything for you.”

You smile at the maids statement, feeling a slight jolt of amusement. You had almost forgotten about the promised pampering session, and the sudden reminder fills you with delight.

The maid moves aside as you rise from your bed and change into the robe.

She leads you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. You follow behind her, your steps light. The estate is bustling with activity, servants scurrying around making last-minute adjustments and preparations for the upcoming celebrations.

The bath chamber is a large, elegant affair, the walls and floors made of polished white marble. The ceiling is painted with images of clouds and the sky, making you feel like you are outdoors. It is dimly lit, a soft glow emanating from the walls, lighting the various bathtubs and areas for massage.

The bath chamber is staffed with a dozen or so servants who spring into action as you enter. Preparing bath salts and oils, massages and wraps, and a myriad of other treatments. The attendants move efficiently and quickly, a product of their years of experience.

You step into a tub of lukewarm water and soak for a bit before an attendant helps you out and guides you to a plush table. You lay down and she applies massage oils and works on your muscles. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction as the tightness and soreness vanishes from your muscles. Eventually another attendant starts applying a mask of clay and honey all over your body while another performs a manicure-pedicure.

It is pure bliss, every sensation of your body being taken care of to your heart's content. You can hardly remember a time when you felt so relaxed and content.

You have several hours to yourself to rejuvenate. You spend the day reading, soaking in the various baths and pools. The soft white pillows and couches are as comfortable as any bed.

You lose track of time, simply enjoying the various sensory experiences as you immerse yourself in the water and soak up the scents and aromas surrounding you. The staff keep your food trays topped up, and new trays of fruit and snacks are continually laid out for you.

You hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching, Delia’s distinctive, confident stride, her steps light and swift. The bath attendants bow politely as she enters, and she acknowledges them with a respectful nod.

As she makes her way over to you she rests one arm against the edge of the bath you are sitting in. Her gaze is soft and caring, her voice gentle as she speaks.

“You look positively radiant, my lady.”

You smile at her, your eyes glimmering in the light, “I feel radiant,” You reply, stretching your arm out to take her hand. She gives you a curt nod of acknowledgement before taking a breath.

“The guests have started to arrive for tomorrow.” Delia informs you, “You have a few hours to yourself before you have your final dinner with the Duke and his mother prior to your wedding day”

Her words snap you back to reality. Your smile slightly falters as you come to the realization that your time alone is coming to an end.

“Yes… The guests have started arriving haven't they.” you trail off, a subtle expression of longing crossing your face as you glance around the baths once more. “I will miss this.”

She gives your hands a light squeeze. Delia always carries this soft sympathy which almost breaks your heart—There are moments where she looks at you as though you were her own daughter.

“I know, my lady” She replies before releasing your hands and steps back, “let us get ready” she says gently, as if sensing your reluctance.

There was no point in resisting or protesting. There was work to be done, political connections to forge and strengthen.

— — —

You follow her through the hallways, a flurry of servants scurrying about around you. The castle is a hive of activity, people rushing to and fro, last minute preparations.

Eventually, you reach the lavish doors to the dining hall, pausing as you await for one of the guards to open it for you.

You take a breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. The dinner itself was a lavish affair, the courses served on delicate porcelain china and the crystal glasses glimmering in the candlelight. Paul was already waiting at the table with Jessica seated beside him.

Jessica leads the conversation, her words witty and filled with excitement for the days ahead. Eventually, the conversation turns to the political situation. You take a sip of your wine, your thoughts immediately turning to the political situation. You have spent years preparing for this moment, and you do not intend to waste the opportunity. You speak in a confident, persuasive tone, outlining your insights and strategies.

Paul leans forward, his attention fixated on you, his admiration for your skills and abilities evident in his expression.

“There is one final issue we must discuss,” Jessica says, her tone serious as she sets down her glass of wine, the delicate crystal making a soft sound as it hits the table. Her blue eyes are firm, and there is no hint of hesitation or reluctance when she begins to speak.

“You need to have children, my lady,” she says bluntly.

Your heart sinks, and you feel the anxiety of the future rising again. Her words are direct and unapologetic; she is not attempting to soften the blow. She is simply stating a fact, and it hits you like a gut punch. “Your role as a bride, especially of your stature, necessitates heirs. It is a political need.”

She is not simply referring to a desire to produce children eventually, she is talking about immediately. A child will further legitimize the Atreides in the Imperial family, and a royal couple will be expected to waste no time in doing their duty.

“ I am aware of my duties as a wife,” you peer into her blue eyes, “I know what must be done”

Dinner ends with a soft murmur of praise and approval. Paul's attention remains fixated on you for a moment, his expression serious and thoughtful. He stands up, and Jessica's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she too stands. The servants quickly begin to clear up the table.

Paul offers you his arm, and you take it, allowing him to lead you from the dining room back to your shared hallway.

“Quite the day tomorrow hm?” You end your sentence with a small hum.

Paul nods solemnly, a soft smile playing across his face. "It will be a historic occasion," he says, leaning his head near yours to whisper softly, "I do not know if I will be able to sleep tonight." His tone is sincere and sympathetic, and there is a hint of nervousness at the realization of what he is facing.

You let out a small chuckle, “Likewise, I might have Delia sedate me.” Paul laughs softly at your joke. There is a moment of genuine amusement in his expression. He likes the way you handle stress, the way you deal with tension and anxiety with humor. It is a glimpse of your true personality, behind the carefully crafted mask of poise and diplomacy.

He takes a deep breath, as to steel himself, and you can tell that he has moved into a more serious frame. He stops and faces you, his expression gentle but resolute.

“Try to get some rest tonight,” he says, “tomorrow is an important day for both of us.”

Both of you were well aware that tomorrow will mark a pivotal turning point in your lives as you come to a stop outside the door to your suite, a brief moment of silence hangs over you like a cloud.

“Tomorrow our destinies are intertwined” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “are you ready?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You have never been this uncertain, yet somehow you feel more sure of yourself than ever before.

You give him a firm nod, your expression set and determined. He bows his head slightly in understanding and steps away, continuing down the hall. As his footsteps recede into the distance you watch him go. As he approaches the door to his room he pauses for a moment, his silhouette framed in the doorway. He turns back one more time, his hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes meet yours and there is a moment of understanding passing between the two of you, as if a silent promise has been made.

He steps through the doorway and disappears from view, leaving you alone in the darkened, emptied corridor. You can hear the distant sounds of the servants making preparations and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety wash over you. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your nerves beginning to fray. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself; there is nothing to be done but to get some rest and prepare yourself for the inevitable. Tomorrow will be a long, emotionally draining day, and you need to be at your best.

With that you turn to face your chambers, entering and shutting the door firmly behind you. Once you fully enter you are met with the warm glow of candles and the comfortable surrounding of your personal space. Delia is bustling about, ensuring that everything is in order, and you can sense her nervousness and excitement.

You can see the glint of anticipation in her eyes as she smiles warmly, “My lady,” she says, her voice soft and respectful, “are you ready for tomorrow?”

You smile slightly, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the idea, “as i’ll ever be,” you say quietly, your tone laced with a mix of trepidation.

“Of course, my lady,” Delia says, nodding in understanding. She immediately begins to rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a soft nightgown and various other items for you to change into.

You watch her for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You try to push aside the anxiety and focus on the task at hand. Sleep.

Delia hands you a sedative, which you gladly take, and you wash it down with the cup of sleepy time tea sat on your nightstand. With one final huff you climb into your bed, letting the soft sheets envelop you as Delia begins to blow out the various candles positioned around your room. Soon you are in complete darkness as you hear your dor click shut, signaling her leave.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you start to feel the weight of sleep pulling you into the darkness. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains becomes hazy and distorted, the shadows dancing on the walls like a silent, dreamlike show. Your mind begins to wander, fragmented images and emotions flash through your mind like a slideshow of memory and imagination. For the first time since your arrival on Caladan, you do not dream.

You are pulled from your sleep as light filters in through the, now open, curtains, landing on your face.

“Goodmorning my lady” Delia says, standing near your window, “I'm sorry to wake you, but the day has begun.” The words send a jolt through your body causing you to sit up in bed, the reality of the day quickly coming to the forefront of your mind. You take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself,

“Thank you Delia,” you say as you stretch out your arms, feeling the knots and kinks from sleeping begin to fade. You swing your legs over the bed and stride to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face as you grip the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror.

You hear the sound of your door opening and the ruffeling of dresses. Delia. You exit the bathroom and see an array of morning dresses laid out for you.

Delia greets you with a smile and instantly delves into the schedule for the day, “Your schedule starts early I'm afraid,” she says, her tone earnest and efficient. “Breakfast is served in the small dining area to the left of the main hall, Lady Jessica will be joining you today. You will then be escorted to a dressing room to prepare you for the ceremony. The ceremony will be in the great hall at noon,” she takes a breath, “then there will be a reception and a few diplomatic meetings scheduled in the latter half of the day.”

Her words are like a deluge, washing over you like a tidal wave of responsibilities and expectations. You take a breath, trying to absorb everything she's said.

Soon you are swiftly dressed and on your way to breakfast, Delia trailing at your side. As you reach the small room you see Jessica waiting, dressed in a deep red gown, her hair pulled back into a simple yet elegant braid. She smiles as you enter, her eyes filled with pride and excitement.

“Good morning,” she says as you take a seat against her, her voice is warm as she busies herself with making you a cup of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected. I'm looking forward to the day,” you reach for the teacup, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. It helps calm your nerves, even if it's just for the moment that you feel the warmth go down your throat.

Jessica nods, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Today is a momentous occasion, and it’s important to start the day off on the right foot. I have full confidence in you. You will do well today.” Her words sink in, bolstering your resolve, and confidence. You take another sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through your body even further.

“Thank you, Lady Jessica.” You say, smiling faintly.

“”Of course” her expression softened to one of affection, “you are soon to be part of the family.” With that, she turns her attention to the breakfast spread laid out in front of you, gesturing for you to help yourself to the various dishes laid out before you.

The breakfast is an assortment of simple yet delicious fare; fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and a selection of the finest meats and cheeses. You help yourself to a few items, relishing the taste and texture of the food as you welcome the distraction from the anxiety swirling in your mind.

Through the meal, you both chat softly about the various guests who will be attending the ceremony and the different diplomatic interactions that will no doubt take place.

Jessica offers her perspective and advice in a way that is both insightful and reassuring, and you begin to feel more prepared for the day’s events. You are aware that many of her inputs are that of the Bene Gesserit, and the more in detail she goes about the politics you slowly start to realize the true influence of this faction in Imperial politics.

As you finish your breakfast, Jessica dabs her lips with a napkin and looks at you, “It’s nearly time,” she says, her tone steady yet excited.

You nod to the attendant, who quickly steps forward to escort you to the changing room. Once you approach the lavish room, Delia immediately springs into action. She dismisses the servants and grabs ahold of your arm, pulling you into the room.

“Quickl, my lady, we must get you dressed into the ceremony attire.” Her voice is ecstatic as she helps you out of the breakfast gown and quickly guides you to a table where your gown is laid out.

It is a work of art, made from the finest silk, and shimmers softly in the light. As you begin to step into it you feel the silken fabric glide over your body, the weight and texture immediately grounding and empowering you.

Within moments, with the help of various other attendants, you are dressed. The gown fits your frame perfectly.

You gaze into a mirror adjacent to where you are standing and it all begins to become very real. You are to be Empress, your father is to be executed, and you are to marry. WIth a sigh you turn away and stride to take your seat at the vanity, where the hairstylist is waiting to do your hair alongside the makeup artist.

In a whirl of powders and sprays your hair is weaved into an elegant braid, a few strands laying around your face, which glimmers in the light. You close your eyes as your jewelry is put on and a few adornments are put in your braid.

As you stand all the attendants watch in awe, you are befitting th4e elegant and regal occasion of the day.

“You look magnificent” Delia says, adoration dripping in her voice, “Are you ready?” She asks softly.

With that you take a deep breath to gather your composure, smoothing out the gown with your hands. Despite the nerves still fluttering deep inside you, you feel a newfound sense of confidence and poise. “Yes,” you say, voice steady and determined, “I’m ready.”

With that Delia takes hold of your arm, giving it a light squeeze, as you turn to leave the room, your gown swishing softly with each step. You are led to a small, private room adjacent to the great hall. The room is dimly lit, the heavy velvet drapes drawn closed to create a sense of enclosure and solitude. As you step inside, you can her the soft murmur of voices and chatter from the other room, the sounds of the bustling guests filtering through the thick wood door.

You take a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you look around the room, taking in the simple yet elegant decorations and furniture. A small chair is placed by the door, and a small table holds a tray of light refreshments, untouched and waiting.

“Wait here while I make one final round to ensure everything is ready” Delia says softly, “I'll be back in just a moment my lady” She then slips out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

You are left alone in the room, the sound of your own breathing echoing softly in the quiet space. You take a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and focusing on your breath, slowing it and deepening it until your heart rate has slowed to a steady beat.

The silence in the room is both calming and claustrophobic, and you find yourself wandering around the small space, your hands touching the smooth fabric of the drapes and the cool, polished wood of the furniture. The wait feels endless, but you know that you must remain patient and composed until the time comes.

The sounds from the great hall seem to grow louder and more insistent, the excited chatter and laughter seeping through the closed door. You can almost picture the scene unfolding just a few feet away from you, the guests gathering and taking their seats, the ceremony attendants going about their duties.

You can hear the sound of the orchestra playing a beautiful instrumental piece, the melodic strains filling the air. It’s a signal that the ceremony is about to begin, and you can hear the guests in the great hall hushing and settling into their seats. You can imagine Paul preparing to walk out, his steps measured and steady, his presence commanding and regal.

You stand near the door, listening intently for any further sounds or cues that would indicate that it's your turn to walk out. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, and in the quiet of the small room, your thoughts and emotions threaten to drown you.

suddenly, the door creaks open, and Delia steps into the room, her expression calm and composed. "it's time, my lady," she says softly, her voice carrying an air of urgency. "the ceremony is about to begin. are you ready?"

your heart skips a beat at her words, and you nod, gathering your composure and courage. you take one final deep breath, smoothing out your gown and straightening your shoulders. "yes," you reply, your voice steady and firm. "I'm ready."

Delia nods in approval, her eyes gleaming softly in the dim light. "you're going to do splendidly," she whispers, her voice tinged with a sense of pride. "just remember to stay composed, and everything will be alright."

with those words, she moves towards you, giving a final inspection to make sure that everything is in order. She adjusts a stray lock of hair, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Finally satisfied, she steps back and motions for you to follow her out. "Let's go," she says, her voice soft but firm. "The ceremony awaits."

you take a deep breath and follow her out of the room, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that lines the hallway. your heart is pounding in your chest as you approach the great hall, the sound of the music and the murmured conversations growing louder with every step.

the great hall doors are massive, carved from the finest wood and polished to a mirror-like finish. the intricate patterns and motifs etched into the wood are a testament to the skill and craftsmanship that went into its creation. as you approach the doors, you can hear the sounds of the ceremony attendants bustling about on the other side, readying themselves for the ceremony. the air is thick with anticipation and excitement, and you can almost feel the energy simmering just beyond the threshold.

As the doors slowly swing open, you see the great hall spread before you, a grand space filled with guests and attendants. The room is bathed in a warm, golden light, and the air is filled with the scent of roses and incense. As you step forward to the aisle, the eyes of the guests turn to you, and a hushed silence falls over the room.

———

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[jadedxhearts]

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

After not being able to have alone time with Law for a while due to all the events taking place, you’re finally able to get what you want one evening. Note: I know everything in the beginning of Wano kinda happens in one day but for the sake of this fic it does not lol.

originally posted on Sept 14, 2022

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

Having nearly no privacy was incredibly frustrating, especially having to live in a ruined palace. No closed off rooms, just massive holes in walls to make separate “rooms”.

Hell, you couldn’t even go have a bath alone. All the water had to carefully be stolen from the farm, so you had a very limited amount to wash yourself with; meaning you were basically just splashing water on yourself fully clothed and hoping it would be enough.

And go for a walk in the woods? You’d either be followed or worse, run into trouble, get caught.

So therefore, you had absolutely no way to be alone with Law. Somebody was always in the abandoned castle, always following you into the woods, it was always something.

Until today.

In a rare moment, everyone had left the hideout to search for those with moon tattoos on their ankles. And as for the three idiots on your crew, Law had kicked them out saying they were on “spy duty”, because surely Luffy and the other Strawhats would be showing up one of these days. And boy did they eat it up, grabbing their binoculars and running off, talking about how important this was.

So here you were now, in the present situation;

After making sure the boys were far off, Law laid back, pulling a finger in an inward motion to tell you to come forward. You gladly hopped onto his lap, running your fingers along his chest. “Finally.”

“Don’t get too excited. They could come back at any moment,” Law advised. “Though, I doubt that idiot will show up anytime soon.”

Sighing, you slipped a hand under the top of his robes, placing your hand on his firm chest, the other one around his jaw. You leaned forward and down to press a kiss to your lover’s lips.

“Surely we can sneak something in, Law? Please, I’m so tired of not being able to touch you…”

“Is that not what you’re doing right now?”

“You know what I mean!” You snapped, pulling your face away from his. “Maybe you should just be blunt with them and tell them you and I need alone time.”

“Why don’t you do it then?” He asked, smirking.

“Wh-well I, no. That’s embarrassing.”

Law rolled his eyes, and put a hand on your back, pushing you to lay right up against him. “Then I guess you won’t get what you want.”

You bit playfully at his lip, a fake glare sent his way. “Fine.”

Law chuckled very briefly, before reconnecting his lips with yours. His right hand moved to your bottom, cupping it through your kimono.

You shuddered at the aroused feeling going straight to your core, welcoming Law’s touches. You slipped your hand underneath his head, grabbing at his hair and deepening the kiss.

“So impatient…” he mumbled against your lips, both of which were now wet with spit.

“It’s been too long, Law. I need you, now.” You whined.

Law unoccupied hand slipped up to your chest and under the folds of the kimono, finding its resting place on your right breast, gently massaging it and flicking at your nipple.

You let out a soft moan, wanting him to go further, go lower.

He bit at your lip before kissing you, and pulled back to speak; “you need to be quiet, y/n. The others aren’t too far away.”

“I don’t care,” you told him. “Let them hear the way you fuck me so good, baby.”

Law’s hips involuntarily jerked up, rubbing up against your covered heat, which in turn made you grind down on him.

“Fuck, quit saying shit like that. Makes me wanna take you right here, where we can get caught so easily.”

You moaned again, pushing your lips back into his own to try and muffle the sound. You adjusted your hips so that your legs could be around his thigh, pushing part of his clothing aside so you could plant yourself onto his bare skin. With small movements that weren’t incredibly noticeable, you began rubbing your cunt on his thigh, the only barrier being your panties, which were growing wet quickly.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my thigh like a stupid slut.” Law praised you. “Such a good girl…”

His lips returned to kiss you, and you continued to moan into his mouth, gripping his sleeve and pulling on his hair.

“Law, please, need you…” you whined.

“You can wait, love. I know you can.” He teased, “besides, I don’t need those idiots catching us, I never want anyone to see you like this.

“You know why?” He asked.

“Cause I’m, ah-” You let out a cry as you felt yourself getting close to releasing. “I’m all yours, Law. Only yours.”

“That’s right” he said, connecting your lips once again.

The kisses turned hot and passionate, but with lots of panting and whining in between. Law was starting to actually worry somebody would walk in on the two of you, but you were relentless, grinding yourself onto his thigh. He could feel your slick against his skin. Truly, it turned him on so much he couldn’t stop you.

“Law, baby, I’m-“

“CAPTAIN!!!”

“Fuck!” You cried, stopping your movements and smacking your fist against his chest. “No…”

“CAPTAIN!”

Just before Bepo, Penguin and Shachi could fully walk into the abandoned castle, Law quickly removed his hands from your chest and instead placed a hand on your back, while you hid your flushed face in his neck.

“What.”

Law seemed annoyed.

The boys stumbled back, surprised at the position the two of you were laying in. But instead of commenting on it, they blurted out the last thing you expected to hear.

“MUGIWARA’S HERE!”

—

Unfortunately for you, Law had to abandon you at the castle, leaving you all worked up and alone. When he finally returned, you feared that there was absolutely no way you’d be getting to finish, as now Luffy and all the Strawhats who weren’t in the Flower Capital were now here.

You had sulked all day, and now you sulked in Law’s arms. Or, arm, really.

You leaned against him, only one of his arms around you, as you both stood outside with your crew, while the others inside were learning of the events that took place twenty years ago.

“Law,” you whispered, turning your head to look up at him. “Can we please… just go off in the woods?”

Law sighed, shaking his head. “In the dirt? I don’t think so, y/n.”

You lowered your head, frowning. “Please, Law… it’s too painful.”

“Are you that desperate?” He asked.

“Yes! Just… tell the others I have a stomachache, and I don’t wanna puke in front of them or something.”

“You drive me insane,” he muttered.

But to your surprise, he pushed both of you up off the wall you were leaning against, and began walking you towards the woods.

“Y/n doesn’t feel good,” Law announced. “I’m going with her. She’s too embarrassed to throw up in front of you guys, apparently.”

The boys began laughing, making some comment about how nothing would be as embarrassing as what happened to Bepo earlier that day.

But they let both of you go without any issues.

It wasn’t too difficult to find a secluded spot, since the forest was fairly thick and it was dark out, the only light being from the moon.

You only hoped the distance was far enough that nobody could hear you.

You looked behind you, searching to see exactly how far you’d walked out. Unable to see the ruins, you figured it was good enough.

You felt Law’s hand on your jaw, gently forcing you to look up at him.

“They won’t hear,” he reassured you. “And if they do, they can just deal with it.”

Breath shuddering, you leaned forward to close the space between your lips and the smirk that his lips formed. Placing another hand on your back, Law pushed you closer and connected the both of you.

Your hands found their way up to his hair once again, running your fingers through his soft locks of messy hair. With one hand, you took his hat and placed it on your own head before returning your hand to play with his hair.

“Step back,” he told you.

Listening, you removed your hands and took a couple small steps back, allowing Law to move.

He took the cloak that hung over his shoulders and laid it out on the grass, dropping his katana next to it.

“Lay down.”

You smiled. “Aw, you don’t want me to get all dirty,” you said. “How sweet of you, Law.”

“I don’t want to get dirty.” He corrected you. “But yeah, it would be bad if you got dirt on you. Cause then I’d have to get it off.”

Giggling, you sat down on the cloak and leaned back, holding yourself up with your elbows behind you.

Law kneeled in front of you, placing his hands on your thighs, rubbing them. “Tell me what you want, y/n.”

He leaned forward to bite at your collarbone, sucking on the skin between his teeth. You miserably failed to hold back the tiny whimper you’d been holding in. “I… want your fingers,” you told him.

Law kissed the now hickey on your neck before removing himself to pull back just a little, pushing your kimono away from your legs and grabbing the panties you wore underneath, pulling them off of you. He examined them for a moment, before tossing them behind him.

“Law!” You protested.

“What?”

“Now they’re gonna be dirty! What am I supposed to wear?!”

“They were already dirty with you nearly cumming inside them earlier. You can wear nothing until we get back to our stuff.”

You were going to whine, but then Law pushed a finger against your clit without warning, sliding it down to your wet folds.

“Look at how soaked you are, y/n. You’re such a slut.”

“I can’t help it,” you whined.

You cried out as he began to rub your clit with his thumb, his index and middle finger running along you to wet them, before he slowly slid them inside your cunt. The movement on your sensitive bud slowed down as he gently felt along your walls, scissoring his fingers to stretch you just a little, before he curled the two digits, rubbing up against your sweet spot.

“Law, baby,” you moaned.

“You're such a good whore, y/n, coming all undone just from my fingers. And to think you almost came on my thigh, without me even touching you. Pathetic.”

You squirmed and moaned, knowing you were close to cumming, desperately hoping you’d be able to release this time.

You threw your head back with a groan as Law added a third finger, speeding up his motions and thoroughly fingering you. Your fingers tried grabbing at the cloak underneath you, but due to your position and the weight on it, you were unsuccessful. With nothing to ground yourself, you clenched your fists and cried out, moaning Law’s name.

“Law, I’m close, fuck-“

“Gonna cum on my fingers, hm?” He asked.

“Yes! Please, Law, please let me cum, I-“

But Law pulled his fingers away just as you were mere milliseconds away from climaxing, and you let out a frustrated cry. “No! Law, please!”

“You begged me to come out here and fuck you. You’ll play by my rules,” he told you. “Being that you won’t cum until I say so. Okay, wife-ya?”

You let out a whine at the pet name, moving your arms away from under you so you could lay back fully on the ground. Your hands found their way to your face, which you held in embarrassment.

“Okay, Law…”

Peeking through your fingers, you saw him smirking. You closed your eyes as he lowered his head, feeling his breath against your soaked cunt.

“Maybe I should eat you out, hm?”

You trembled and clenched around nothing, trying to buck your hips forward so they’d reach his mouth. But then Law pulled back.

“Or maybe I should punish you for what you did earlier. Get on your knees.”

You obliged, pushing yourself off your back and onto your knees, placing your hands on your thighs and waited.

Law stood up, his hands reaching underneath his hat which still sat on your head, hands making their way underneath your hair so he could get a good grip on your head.

“Go ahead,” he instructed.

You pushed the robes away so that you could get your face between his muscular thighs, gently freeing his cock with shaking hands.

It’d been a while since you’d had him shoved down your throat. You wondered if you’d be able to handle it.

Positioning your hands, you brought the tip to your mouth and kissed it, gently suckling on it.

Above you, Law let out a small groan that caused a chill to run throughout your hot body, making you squeeze your thighs together in some pathetic attempt to pleasure yourself.

You ran your tongue up his shaft a few times before finally widening your mouth, praying you wouldn’t gag and mess it all up.

As you brought the tip into your mouth fully, Law moved his hips forward, practically shoving his entire length into your mouth. You tried protesting, but it was all just muffled noises as you choked on him.

In an attempt to gain access to air, you grabbed at his hand, squeezing it.

Reluctantly, Law pulled his cock out of your mouth, and you began coughing and spitting.

“Too much?” He asked.

You nodded, wiping the spit from your face. “I can’t… handle it,” you answered.

“That’s okay. We’ll try again and again until you can take it all.”

Your head returned to him, and you took just the tip of him into your mouth, running your tongue around his cock.

“Good girl,” Law praised. “Can you take a little more?”

You nodded, and he pushed just a little more inside. And then a little more, and more until he was fully inside your mouth once again.

“Breathe through your nose,” he reminded you.

Finally, you were able to take him once more. You squeezed his hand again, letting him know it was okay to move. He let go of your hand to place it in your hair and began thrusting, but very gently.

Eventually, the more comfortable you got, the faster he moved. He was fully deepthroating you now, his grip on your hair nearly painful now. You didn’t mind though, because hearing his little moans was the greatest sound you’d ever heard, and it turned you on to no end knowing that you were the one giving him such pleasure.

“I’m gonna- fuck!” He cursed, unloading himself into your throat with no warning.

He quickly pulled out after, knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to breathe right without any warning. You swallowed what you could, but started coughing again, head resting on his hip.

“You did so good, y/n.” Law told you, rubbing your tender head. “I’m proud of you.”

You smiled and let the praise go straight to your head. You hadn’t even noticed that Law was moving, until he moved you to sit on his lap.

“Now I’ll fuck you, just as you wanted. Okay?”

You nodded and raised your hips so he could position his once again hard cock underneath you. Holding himself with one hand, he brought the other one to your hip, gripping at the soft flesh. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you sank down onto him, moaning at the way he stretched you.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, “you’re so… tight.”

“Law, I- I can’t, too big-“

“Yes you can,” he reassured you. “I know it’s been a while but you’ll be okay. I won’t hurt you, love.”

You teared up, one singular tear rubbing down your flushed cheeks. You didn’t know if it was from his sweet words, or the way he was practically splitting you in half.

“Move when you’re ready,” he said, running a hand through your hair and kissing you.

After a moment of simply sitting halfway on his cock, you finally lowered yourself, swallowing up his entire length.

“Good girl.”

You whined as you slowly lifted your hips again before sliding them back down. You did this a few more times before you felt ready enough to fully ride him.

Testing the waters, you rocked your hips forward once, shuddering and clenching on his thick length.

“Fuck,” you cried, moving your hips back, and then forth again.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. Taking my cock so well, like a good little slut.”

“Law,” you moaned his name, “feels..so… good.”

He smirked as he watched you begin to bounce on him, your eyes shut tightly and mouth hung open as moans fell from you.

Feeling more confident, you sped up your movements until you were completely riding him, bouncing up and down so quickly your moans weren’t catching up with it anymore.

“Oh, Law, baby… I’m gonna- mmm.”

His right hand was now underneath you, rubbing circles into your clit. “I know. I can always tell by the way you start clenching on me.”

“F-fuck!”

You threw your head back, slowly opening your eyes and looking down again, seeing the sight before you. Law had that stupid smirk on his face again, but you could see in his eyes that he was truly loving this.

But then his mouth fell open, and he began panting and groaning, his hips shaking as he was now incredibly close, too.

His left hand gripped your hip even tighter, and his other started rubbing your soft bud faster.

“Cum with me, baby,” he told you.

You whined, loving when he called you baby. Out of all the stupid shit he’d call you, nothing else made your heart flutter like this.

You let out a loud moan, your orgasm overtaking you, releasing all your sweet juices down onto his cock as he came again, his hot cum filling you up.

You both stopped moving, and Law laid back so you could collapse on top of him.

“Better now?” He asked.

You nodded, kissing him.

After another moment of laying together, he slowly pulled out of you, causing your mixed cum to flow out of your pussy and onto your thighs.

“Think you can walk back to base?” He asked, helping you up.

On wobbly legs, you nodded. But it was obvious you couldn’t.

Sighing, Law lifted you up, over his shoulder. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. He picked up his things and your panties before heading back towards the ruins.

Before you could reach the clearing, you felt ready to walk again so he let you down, throwing the cloak over your shoulders to keep you warm.

It seemed everyone was passed out, so it was easy for you to get a clean pair of panties on before you laid down with Law, arms wrapped around him as you drifted off to sleep, fully satisfied.

[dawn-moths]

♡ “what he does for you on your birthday” sd!nanami headcanons (since it’s my birthday today and i want this man to spoil me lol)

♡ words: 2,800+

♡ content warning: contains 18+ content! minors please do not interact! daddy kink, size difference, reader is called “princess, sweetheart, angel”, reader is picked up and carried shorty, aftercare, bathing together.

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♡ You start your day having slept in (which you usually do, Nanami knows his precious little baby needs her rest) and wake up loosely tangled among the soft sheets and fluffy comforters of the king sized bed. You look over, expectant and excited to see Nanami lying next to you, but your joy quickly turns to confusion when you find his place in bed empty. However, the moment you smell the decadent sweetness of your favorite homemade french toast drifting in to the bedroom, and hear the distant, muffled clinking and clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen, a gentle grin finds its way back onto your face.

♡ Stepping out of bed, you slide your feet into your favorite fluffy pink slippers, scuffing them gently across the floors as you wrap your billowing silk robe tighter around your shoulders and approach the kitchen. You can hear him humming, the melody slow and lilting in his rich, smooth baritone. Sometimes he hums to you when you can’t fall asleep at night, softly stroking his knuckles along your cheek or his palm against your hair until you finally doze off. But now, as he looks over at you standing in the entryway, his song ceases and a smile spreads across his stoic features.

♡ “Good morning, princess,” Nanami greets you with syrupy sweet adoration, setting the spatula that was in his hand off to the side where he’d just flipped the piece of bread cooking in the pan before migrating closer to you. You meet him in the middle and fall into his arms, nuzzling into his chest as he kisses you on the head, squeezing you slightly tighter in his embrace, and asks, “Sleep well, birthday girl?” in a quiet, velvety murmur.

♡ You nod against him, feeling a yawn rising in your chest, knowing you won’t be able to suppress it as it fights its way from your body, limbs still a little heavy with fading slumber. Nanami hums out an endearing note, beginning to guide you further into the kitchen to sit at the white marble counter where he’s already made you a plate piled high with fresh, juicy strawberries and rippling, fluffy whipped cream, mini chocolate chips sprinkled atop the mountain of the sugary masterpiece.

♡ The first bite tastes like heaven, your eyes glittering with glee as you shift your gaze from your breakfast to the man you love so much. A part of you is honestly a little impressed how well the french toast turned out. Nanami’s cooked for you before a few times in the past, but with his busy schedule the two of you usually end up at one of your favorite 5-star restaurants or have one of the interns drop off some fancy takeout. You’re glad that Nanami is willing to indulge with you, sliding into the seat next to you with his own plate that’s nearly identical, though his has far less whipped cream and chocolate chips and is accompanied by his usual mug of black coffee. He’s never really had a sweet tooth like you do, but once in a while, on special occasions, he’ll make an exception.

♡ Golden sunlight streams in through the tall, floor to ceiling windows as breakfast concludes, and Nanami says he has a surprise for you— only, it’s hardly a surprise, as you know he goes above and beyond on your birthday. The only question will be how will he outdo last year?

♡ He leads you by the hand towards the living room, then, right before you can turn the corner he stops and tells you to close your eyes. “Promise you won’t peek until I tell you?” He playfully requests, and you giggle and do as he asks, replying with excitement, “I promise, as long as you don’t make me wait too long!” From there, once your eyes are closed and covered by your hands, he guides you into the room, leaving you waiting in suspense for just a moment before announcing you can open your eyes, and as soon as you do, you can’t help as a gasp slips past your sugar-dusted lips.

♡ The whole room is decked out with glittering decorations and fresh bouquets of roses in pink and white and red, balloons of the same colors scattered across the floor and floating in their own hovering bouquets in each corner of the room. Sparkling confetti is strewn across the floor (you can’t believe Nanami was willing to make such a mess, even on your birthday, but he must’ve remembered when you said how much you loved confetti at your childhood birthday parties growing up and decided that one day with the mansion in slight disarray couldn’t hurt) and at the center of it all is a pile of neatly stacked presents, each box wrapped in shiny paper and topped with a big, silky bow, metallic silver balloons hovering behind the gifts in the numbers of your new age.

♡ For a moment, you’re so caught in awe, you’re just standing there, but as Nanami places a big hand on your shoulder and says, “You know, the presents aren’t going to open themselves…” with a hint of harmless teasing, you instinctively begin to draw nearer to your shimmering gifts, all the decadence luring you in like a moth to a flame.

♡ It takes over an hour for you to open everything, leaving the room littered with more glittering paper debris and streamers of ribbon, this year’s birthday gifts consisting of everything from the latest designer handbags and shoes in your favorite colors to the oversized plushies that you so adore (and keep piling high on all the guest beds as Nanami had to put a cap on the number allowed to live in the bedroom you two shared at three) and some books you’d been dying to read. In the end, it doesn’t matter the cost of the gift, you love each and every one of them equally because they all came from your Daddy, specially and thoughtfully selected for his perfect little princess.

♡ But the day has only just begun, and as the clock ticks over into the early afternoon, Nanami is already suggesting you go get ready for a day of top secret, super special birthday soirée activities. So you put on your favorite dress, pairing it with one of your new pairs of shoes and a pair of diamond earrings, grab one of your new handbags, and walk out the door arm in arm with Nanami. He lets you choose which of his sports cars you want to be driven around in today— you pick one of the convertibles— you queue up your favorite playlist, and you sing along to your favorite songs with the wind twining through your hair as Nanami speeds into the heart of the city.

♡ Your first stop is the luxury shopping block where your Daddy treats you to even more expensive items from your favorite brands, designers, and boutiques. When he asks you what you want for lunch and you reply with, “Ice cream!” followed by an adorably devious giggle, knowing if it were any other day, Nanami would never let sweets substitute a meal. But today, of course, is no ordinary day, so Nanami gives you a grin and shakes his head to himself, unable to say no to you as you’re already drifting towards your favorite little ice cream shop and all its pastel pink, blue, and green flag banners beckoning you from the elaborately decorated window display. Nanami must be in an especially cheerful mood today himself, as, not only did he have french toast this morning, he also indulges in two scoops of his favorite flavors.

♡ You two take a break from all the walking and shopping as you enjoy your afternoon dessert in one of the plush retro booths of the ice cream parlor, sampling each others flavors here and there as your ankles intertwine underneath the table. When the toe of your shoe begins to inch further up his leg, slow and teasing, Nanami flashes you a look that is both warning and wanting, as if he’s daring you to see how much you can get away with here before anyone else catches on. But you decide to cease your little game before it goes too far, knowing full well that tonight he’ll be the one teasing you.

♡ After ice cream, you two do a little more shopping and then decide to catch a movie as you happen past the theatre and take a peek at what’s playing. You’re so exhausted from shopping that you nearly doze off with your head rested against his shoulder in the dark of the room, the theatre nearly empty aside from one or two other people catching the matinee showtimes. Nanami’s arm drapes comfortably around your body, wishing there wasn’t an arm rest in the way so he could let you curl into his lap like he knows you love to do so much. You guys are in the very back row, so he figures he might be able to get away with it what with the other scattered patrons sitting more towards the middle and front, but you seem to remember that you actually want to pay attention, stirring back awake and trying to right your posture a little straighter so you don’t get too comfortable.

♡ Once the movie is over, you two head back to the car and it’s already dinner time. Nanami hopes you didn’t fill up too much on the ice cream earlier, because he has a reservation at one of your favorite 5-star restaurants tonight. He was even able to get your favorite table too, the one on the second floor with the view from the window where you can watch the glittering lights of the city as you dine on delicacies from all different corners of the world. In the end, you do have to take about half of your dinner home, but that’s alright, because Nanami knows you like to snack on your leftovers the next day.

♡ It’s nearly nine o’clock when you two finally arrive home, and Nanami can tell you’re worn out, but in the best way. “Tired, princess?” he asks when he catches you in the middle of a big yawn. You nod and smile, telling him “Only a little bit…” to which he chuckles under his breath and replies, “It’s hard work being the birthday girl, isn’t it?” and that earns him another sleepy nod and a grin. But Nanami has one last surprise for you, so he hopes you have enough energy left to enjoy it.

♡ Suggesting you two head upstairs, you’re none the wiser to the fact that, while you two were out, he had Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi drop by the house to set up the last surprise in the master bedroom. He’d been secretly texting them throughout the day and getting updates on how things were coming along. His interns never disappointed, and even Nanami is in awe once he finally pushes open the doors and casts his gaze upon the room that’s been so decorated it’s nearly unrecognizable as your shared bedroom. You, of course, are blown away, completely and joyously surprised as you take in all the bouquets of flowers and balloons and ribbons that curl from the ceiling down to the floor in a cascade of all your favorite colors.

♡ It’s so much to take in that, at first, you don’t even notice the box topped with a big, silky pink bow sitting at the center of the bed, just waiting— begging— to be opened. Once you do though, you glance back at Nanami as if to ask, “For me?” and he gestures a hand towards it as if to say, “Of course, do you even need to ask?” and that’s all the confirmation you need to go bounding towards the bed, doing a jump to land before the box with your legs tucked beneath you, knees bordering it on either side. No matter how excited you are though, you always savor the way the thick, colorful paper peels away to reveal what’s hidden underneath, appreciating it like it’s art— sort of like how Nanami always takes good care to enjoy every detail of how each piece of your clothing he takes away reveals a view of your skin to him, no matter how familiar, no matter how eager he may secretly be, he always takes his time in unwrapping his favorite gift.

♡ He delights in the way your eyes light up as you land your gaze upon the new lingerie set he picked out especially for you— another one in your favorite pink and white with ribbons and lace, yet still unlike all your others of a similar design— and mutters in your ear as he places one of his big, warm hands on your shoulder, his palm engulfing you, “Wanna try it on, sweetheart?” to which you flash another one of those devilishly adorable smiles and reply, “Be right back,” before planting a quick peck on his cheek and scampering off into the master bathroom with a giggle. Once you’ve changed you merely crack the bathroom door, giving him a teasing sliver of a peek from the gap between the connecting rooms before emerging all the way.

♡ Sometimes Nanami likes when you play with him, likes how you’re able to help him forget all his important, pressing responsibilities, even if just for a short while, and go to a place where it’s just the two of you, living in your own perfect little fantasy world. He likes that you challenge him sometimes too, thinking you’ve gained the upper hand— and he lets you believe it too, for a little while— before being reminded just who’s really in control here.

♡ So, standing by the bathroom door, back pressed to the wall, he rhetorically asks, “Is everything alright in there?” catching another quick glimpse of you through the tiny opening. “Why don’t you come find out?” you bait, a devious lilt woven into your sweet tone. You two go back and forth for a little while, the push and pull of who holds the power egging you both on, until it all ends with you sat atop one of the counters with him standing between your legs, his jutting sex pressed to your soaked core, your mouths locked in a languid, deep kiss that leaves you breathless, lips slick with each others spit. When he suggests you move things back to the bed, you just give an eager little nod and let Nanami scoop you up in his strong grip, fingers digging into the plush flesh of the back of your thighs, and carry you back to the mattress.

♡ And he puts every other year of birthday sex to shame this time around, his hands and mouth and cock practically worshiping every inch of you, taking his time and really working you up until your legs are trembling and your back is arching and you’re whining his name through a clipped moan of divine pleasure, giving you a little more time than usual to come down from the high before he’s gifting you with another earth shattering orgasm.

♡ Once all is said and done and you’re both fully satisfied, Nanami cleans you up with a warm washcloth and leaves you to rest while he draws up a candle lit bath for the two of you to share, vibrant crimson rose petals scattered and floating along the water’s surface, and gently massages different parts of your body as you rest with your back to his chest, your body cradled between his legs. Your lethargic little fingers reach back behind you and lazily play with his hair, tired whispers of “Love you, Daddy…” and “Best birthday ever…” falling from your lips. Nanami kisses the top of your head, his grip flexing slightly tighter on you for a moment as he says, “I love you too, angel. I hope you had the best day ever.” You turn to face him, still moving slowly, and straddle his lap in the big, porcelain tub. Staring into his eyes, the flickering candle light dancing in the center of all that dark, alluring tawny, you press a chaste yet lingering kiss to his lips. “Every day with you is the best day ever,” you tell him, and it’s so sincere it sort of catches him off guard. “You’re the best gift any girl could ever ask for.”

♡ Nanami’s expression of awe morphs into adoring contentment, into the purest, softest kind of love. He lightly nudges his nose against yours and says, “I’d still give you the world, if you asked for it.” Laying your head on his shoulder and relaxing against his form, you mutter, “Don’t have to… I already have it.”

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[freya-captain]

Low-key wondering (hoping lol) if you will be making anymore gif sets about the forced marriage au between jace and aegon🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Thanks for liking it! (somehow i didn't see this ask till i logged in on my laptop)

I wrote another clip and hope you guys enjoy it. (i don't know why it getting longer and longer...)

Continuing on this thread

Warning: alpha King!Jacaerys x omega! Aegon; forced marriage; black wining the war; Lucemond mentioned

They made a brief stop in Pentos.

Had been traveling west for six days in a bumpy carriage, Aegon did try hard not to throw up on Jace's boots. Considering that he is King now it would've been a terribe act of crime.

He was plotting a way to escape till they reached a manse, but no sooner did he lower himself into the hot water and close his eyes than he was fast asleep. He woke naked on a goose-down feather bed so soft as if he had been swallowed by a cloud. There was no one else in the dim chamber, only two knights guarding outside that he peeked through the door.

So he came to the window. New spring grass seemed soft enough. He casually threw on some robe and jumped out of it. Everything went suprisingly smooth—no one noticed; no one followed. He saw cherry trees stood sentinel around a marble pool. The yard here was stupidly big, from where he started his explore.

He saw three gates during his wanderings - the main entrance with its gatehouse, a postern by the kennels, and a garden gate hidden behind pale ivy. The last was chained, the others guarded.

No wonder Jacaerys found no need to send someone watching over him. He knew it was impossible for him to get out, by himself. How cunning. He thought. Everyone he met either ignored him or spoke a strange language he could not comprehend. They weren't talking to him anyway, not to mention offering help.

The futile efforts made Ageon dizzy, so afterward he went back to the chamber, curled up, and shut his eyes, drowning in the feather bed once more until a soft voice woke him up.

"My prince," a servant girl stood next to the bed, speaking the common tongue, "your bath awaits. His grace expects you at table within the hour."

He rubbed his eyes, "I was having the best dream of my life." He didn't. He slept sound and deep. The last time felt like forever ago.

"Apology, my prince." She fetched a new robe for him, so much more delicate and gorgeous than the last one, decorated with intricate lace of Myr and rubies in the shape of tears, "It is my honor to present the dress to you, my prince. Look at the color. It brings out the beautiful purple in your eyes. "

He propped himself against the pillows, "I'm not wearing that. And stop calling me prince."

She seemed so well-trained, "Whatever you say, my lord."

As he bathed, the girl washed his feet, scrubbed his back, and brushed his hair. The black color was not easily washed away though. Afterward she rubbed sweet-smelling ointment into his neck, arms and calves, and dressed him once again in the old robe.

Jacaerys was reading a massive book in candlelight by the wide dinner table when he stepped in. A chronicle, Aegon guessed. His brown hair has grown much longer and curlier than the way he remembered. Despite sitting, his oldest nephew still appeared broad-shouldered and tall.

He looks different. Aegon thought, he looks like a man now.

"It seems you are finally cleared of fleas, uncle. Baths agree with you." The young alpha looked up at him and smiled, "Come sit."

Aegon cautiously took a seat in the only remaining chair, "Last time we dinned together you were still short."

He countered the remark, "Last time we dinned together your hair was still blonde." He signalled the servants, “I assume you hungry?"

The serving men came running. They began with a broth of crab and monkfish, and cold egg lime soup as well. Then came quails in honey, a saddle of lamb, goose livers drowned in wine and buttered parsnips. 

The sight of it all made Aegon feel queasy. Jace gestured to him with a glass of wine. He was wearing a long velvet shirt emblazoned with the royal sigil, the three-headed dragon.

"Are you truly King now? I didn't see your crown." He asked with deliberate acerbity.

"You get to see me in crown as soon as we return the Keep." He responded calmly.

"The country is still running even when her ruler is absent, huh?"

Jace gave a soft smile, not offended at all, "My excellent small council allows me to take a small break."

Something changed in his nephew. He is no longer the reckless alpha that was so easily provoked and showed everything on his face.

Aegon felt discouraged as he forced himself to try a spoon of soup, and once he had tasted it he was lost. He had never eaten so well. Life in exile has little to do with luxurious food, or even complete meals. Not that he minded, but only in this moment he started to remember how good it was to be noble.

He did not realized he was that hungry. As he was sucking the meat off the bones of his quail, he noticed Jacaerys was staring at him without touching his plate. Indeed he was eating without a single sense of grace of a queen or a prince. How wonderful. He mused, the sooner Jace found him repulsive, the sooner he can get himself out of this hell. So he didn’t give a care. "I see you learned some magic tricks, nephew." Jace frowned. Aegon stifled a laugh and explained “You could full your stomach just by staring at me.”

"You slept too long. I already ate ahead." Jace added unnecessarily, "Plus I like watching you eating."

He rolled his eyes, "You'd like it better when I drink." He asked another sharp question, "Why didn't you ride your dragon? That one called Wellax? "

"Vermax. " He wiped the corner of Aegon's mouth with a towel , said candidly, "He was still recovering from the war wounds. I don't want him to fly for excessively long."

"Hmm, the Greyjoy's rebellion?"

Jace raised his eyebrows, "I am surprised you knew that."

Of course Aegon knew that. He heard this great usurper war even across the sea. About three years ago, House of the Kraken ambushed the Velaryon fleets and declared war against the Iron Throne. Lys, Myr and Tyrosh joined them as well. He heard Prince Jacaery led the Royal Army himself and fought besides the brave Cregan Stark, lord of the northerners. He heard the Wirewolf's bastard sister Sara Snow followed them to the battlefield too. And there was his brother —Aemond Targaryen, he and his monster dargon Vaghar were the shinest stars during the war.

"They said my dear brother burned the Iron Islands to ashes."

"He also killed the rebel leader Dalton himself in a one-on-one combat."

"I believe the Iron Islanders thanked him greatly for that —Now people only fear our house more. You gave my war criminal brother a nice excuse."

"I didn't give anyone excuses. It was the ironborns who started the fire."

"So before the fire lighted, Dalton Greyjoy didn't stealed Lucerys and kept him captive then? Or Aemond was simply sitting at home out of his respect for you?"

Jace took a deep breath faced with his sarcasm, "Luke is my brother, my blood. I would do anything for his safety. But I was not impulsive enough to start a war against one of the seven kingdoms because they had Luke. I know Aemond wanted that more than anything. But I was the Chief Commander. They rejected the peace deal and they started a rebellion first. I had no choice but to defeat and destroy them. Believe it or not, that's the truth."

"It made senses. You are your mama's boy, after all." Aegon finally commented with a mocking smile.

“I see you heard a lot in the east.” Jace's eyes started glittering with anger. Aegon smelled victory.

“I heard more that that." He took a big gulp of pale Pentoshi ambers,"I heard our precious prince, the heir to the iron throne, had an affair with the little wolf girl. Love in the flames of war, how beautiful. I kept wondering why you didn't marry her? You must've thought a bastard girl wouldn't be good enough for you."

Suddenly Jace placed his glass heavily on the table. He stared at Aegon in dead silence for a few seconds, long enough to seem like a century. Aegon was beginning to regret it. The alpha would be infuriated if he truly loved that girl. He had only wanted to provoke his nephew; he didn't want to die. He loved his life, sweet and could-be-short life.

Alpha stood up and walked over to Aegon, leaning down to cup his face gently.

"Never address me like that again, Egg. My patience is never limitless." His eyes and movements conveyed a completely different message.

Then Aegon felt it—something overwhelming, powerful, something disabling him of talking back or moving a bit, something belonging to a superior alpha or King. Now that his figure was so close, his scents were clearer than ever. Jace smelled so good, a full-fledged alpha - fresh pine needles, fuzzy animal musk, blood, cum, spicy tobacco.

“You smell like fucking home.” He said without thinking. Then immediately bit his tongue in regret. Where the hell did that come from?

Jace's expression softened, "Do you miss home, Egg?"

He shook his head, then nodded, "A little, maybe. Though I know no one misses me at all."

“We all miss you, silly. You've gone for ten whole years. " He sat back next to Aegon and cut him a piece of goose liver with a knife. “At every family dinner, we saved you a seat and wish you could show up.”

Aegon lost all his appetite when it came to this topic, “Haha, very funny. I almost buy it.”

Jace watched him pouring another cup of Dornish Red, "Queen Alicent sometimes sat in your old room and weeping." He said in a soft voice, "And Aemond, he never said a thing. But he named his seond son Aegon, in the fifth year you left. Even Rhaenyra, she used to tell us the story how she played wooden dragons with you when you were little."

"Is toying with me fun enough for you?" He lost it, tears collecting in his lavender eyes, "I know they hated me. Everyone hated me! You expect me to believe suddenly I became a good son, a good brother that everyone missed sickly? ”

No one ever loved him. Not his father who loved only his first wife and her child, not his mother who was only content with Aemond, not his sister who seemed so relieved when she found she didn't have to marry him.... He was everybody’s disappointment. This seemed like a only good job he exceled at. That was why he fled.

"Who said that? ”Jace was half-surprised-half angry, "You can't put yourself down like this."

"I was never the one anyone wanted."

Jace was ridiculous enough to laugh, "But I want you." He took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"..No!" Aegon retracted his hand like he'd been electrocuted. Alpha's scent was so close that it annoyed and agitated him.

He never felt so crestfallen, "Jace, Jacaerys Targaryen, listen, this is no fun anymore. I lose the game. I give up."

"Come home with me then."

"NO!" He almost freaked out, "Can't you see what kind of person I am? Do you know what I have been through? I was a Omega in exile."

"I don't care that much." There was a certain darkness in his tone, "You were my Queen. You still are."

Aegon doubted the only one that remembered the seven kingdom once had a queen is Jacaerys himself.

"No one liked it. No one likes it still."

"You'll see when we return the Keep." He shrugged, “There's a coronation awaiting.""

[hotpinkboots]

SO TO COUNTER THE BREAK UP REQUEST THAT WAS SO VERY HEART BREAKING AND WELL WRITTEN

Can you do something w a similar start where reader is starting to take Anakin for granted and get annoyed but he asks her if she’s happy and how to make her happy and she remembers why she fell in love with him? Angst with a very fluffy ending because reader realizes she took his love for granted and starts treating him better and they live happily ever after, it’s the only way to mend my heart bc DAMN you can right good angst 😭

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~𝕬𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖐𝖞𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖗 x Fem!Reader (Angst+Fluff)~

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MWAHAHAAA SUFFERRR >:)))

AND YESSSS OF COURSE 🥺 I felt so bad writing that about Anakin, it was so sad LOL broke my heart to write! I'd love to give it a happy ending :D

Read the original post here: Anakin x Reader: Breakup Headcanons

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕬𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖐𝖞𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖗

★★★★

~Anakin can pick up on your annoyance immediately.

~He's very observant and will notice the smallest change in your expression, behavior, or tone of voice.

~It's like he studies you under a microscope- He knows you better than you may think he does.

~So his solution is to talk to you about it and give you one of those big hugs where his Jedi robes drape over you like a blanket.

~As sweet as it is, you've been a bit overwhelmed by his pampering and how he's always touching you.

~He grows a bit discouraged after a bit, and he's never the type to dance around a topic and hint at it.

~Anakin is very direct about what he wants to talk about and what he wants to say.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin grew nearer, his eyes fixed on yours gently. You could feel his soft breath on your forehead as he let out a sigh, while his flesh hand nudged against your wrist, a silent ask to hold your hand.

"(Y/N)," the Jedi murmured, his voice ever so slightly strained from the fear of your answer. "Are you happy?"

Your annoyance melted from your expression, just ever so slightly. "What do you mean?" You asked him, brows knitting together in mild confusion. Happy with what? In general? In your relationship?

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, giving a few blinks as he decided how to explain his question to you. His gaze drifted to the floor for a moment, until he swallowed and shut his eyes. He looked back at you, leaning closer as though telling you a secret.

"Are you happy with me?" He restated in a voice no louder than a murmur.

You took a moment to look at your lover. His sharp, beautiful blue eyes that looked so deeply into yours. His soft lips- lips that had latched onto yours countless times, lips that bathed yours with the most gentle of affections and adoration.

Anakin was yours, it was true. He was the one wrapped around your finger. Under your thumb. He could worship your body for hours, and he'd still want more. He could come home exhausted, and still would make a point to kiss you in greeting and ask you how your day was.

You could never use him. You could never take advantage of him for it. That is part of why was so, so terribly in love with you. You didn't take advantage of any kindness. You didn't act selfishly- you always returned every favor he did you in some way shape or form. You were an angel. His angel.

He didn't know what he would do without his angel.

Realizing how truly and deeply he loved you, made you realize how truly and deeply you loved him. You truly were a match made in Heaven.

"Anakin, I- Of course I'm happy with you," You replied, looking up at him meaningfully, "I know I've been...annoyed with you, lately. I guess I'm just overwhelmed. There's a war, one of us always has to leave suddenly as soon as we get comfortable, maybe I feel like you're a bit... overbearing?- I'm not sure..." You trailed near the end of your explanation.

Anakin smiled, and both of his hands lifted to gently rest on your shoulders, running down your arms until he reached your hands, which he lifted up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. "You don't need to be sure. You just need to tell me when I'm bothering you," He gave a soft chuckle against your skin, momentarily shutting his eyes to truly breathe in your presence.

"I want you to always be honest with me."

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AHSJAJDKAL HE IS LOVELY

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Request Guidelines!

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Join my Chat/Roleplay Server! Here, you'll get updates on my fanfiction, make friends, and meet new roleplay buddies!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

[shadowdaddies]

More domme Nesta, pretty please 🥺

I actually squealed when I saw your message, I'm so happy to write more domme!Nesta. She's a bit meaner in this lol hope that's okay

Tease

Nesta x Reader

You decided to tease Nesta at training this morning, and she shows you how that behavior will not be tolerated.

Warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, oral f!receiving, 69ing, edging, minors dni, not proofread sorry I was too excited

You’d been teasing Nesta all day. At training, you intentionally ignored her, flirting with Emerie during warm-ups, and let out soft, subtle moans during stretches. It was enough to seem innocent to others around you, but Nesta saw right through your charade. 

When training ended, you made your way up to the bathroom and rinsed off the sweat from the morning’s activities. When you emerged back into your bedroom wrapped in a towel, you found Nesta lounging on your bed in a robe, casually flipping through one of your romance books from your nightstand. 

You decided it was best to play innocent, donning your best doe-eyed expression as you slowly stepped closer to her, softly prodding, “what are you doing in here, Nes?” Nesta’s eyes flashed up from the book as though she were waiting for you to ask. She smirked as she took in your barely covered body, still wet from the bath. “Don’t play innocent with me, baby. I know what you were doing this morning at training.” She rose from the bed with a predatory grace, circling around to stand behind you. Frozen in place, you gasped for breath as Nesta ripped the towel from your body. She let out a soft laugh, taunting you as she murmured, “it’s almost as though you search for reasons for me to punish you.” 

Nesta scented your fresh arousal at her accusation, a wicked gleam in her eye as she gripped your jaw, tilting your neck back into her shoulder. “Oh, little pet. That is what you were doing, isn’t it? Just begging for a reason to be punished, weren’t you?” Nesta cooed at you, her grip firm on your chin as her teeth bit down hard on your earlobe and tugging before licking a soothing pattern over the mark. She pushed you forward towards the bed, “kneel, little one. Right there on the edge for me.” You obeyed without question, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed as you awaited Nesta’s next move. 

She circled around you, positioning herself against the headboard as she spread her legs wide. Nesta untied her robe, putting her body on full display as you dug your nails into your thighs, waiting for her to give you permission to touch her. She didn’t though, instead tracing her own hands over her breasts, twisting and pulling at her nipples as she let out soft gasps, moving one hand down to her pussy where she circled her core, gathering her wetness on her fingers. She reached those soaked fingers out to you, and you leaned in, eager to taste, before she quickly pulled them away with a smirk. “No, my pet. You teased me all morning. It’s your time to show a little patience,” Nesta taunted you, reeling her hand back to her own core. She plunged two fingers in, making an exaggerated moan as she curled them against her walls. 

You watched in a trance as she pleasured herself in front of you, your own arousal dripping onto your legs that you were perched on. Nesta gave you a sly look as she curled a finger from her free hand, beckoning you towards her. “You may touch me now, pet,” she affirmed. You crawled towards her on your hands and knees as you knew she liked, moving down to your elbows, back arched with your ass in the air for her to see as you reached her center. You knew better than to tease her, as that would only worsen your punishment, so you dove in, licking and sucking her clit as you circled your fingers around her entrance. Once you were satisfied that they were wet enough, you dipped them into her core, spreading and twisting them in a way that had her writhing beneath you. Before you could revel in the feeling of your perceived dominance, however, Nesta pushed you off of her. She growled at you, “on your back, pet. Don’t think for a moment that you are in charge here.” 

You nearly whimpered at her words, complying with her order as you flipped to lay on your back upon the mattress. Nesta followed suit, turning over to hover above your core as she poised her own above your face. “Take it like a good girl,” she murmured as she lowered herself onto your mouth. She soon took your clit into her mouth, softly sucking as she ground against your face, using you for her pleasure. 

You gripped her thighs, moaning against her as she deftly worked her tongue against you. When she slid her long fingers into you, you keened, arching into her as the pleasure overwhelmed you. You eagerly licked and sucked her clit, but before you could bring your fingers to her, she pressed herself firmly against your face, nearly suffocating you as she brought you to the edge of your own orgasm. 

You clenched around her fingers, about to collapse when she withdrew completely. You tried to whine in protest, but the noise was muffled by her core atop your mouth. Nesta shifted, turning around to where she was still hovering over your mouth. She held the back of your head as she lifted you, looking into your eyes as she rolled her hips against your face. “Make me cum, and then we’ll see how good I can make you feel tonight, pet.” You obeyed, eager to please and hopefully find release for yourself as you set to work. 

[diazheartsbuckley]

Oooo I’d love to know more about “ Bratty probie Buck/ new lieutenant Eddie” and “Confessions in the dark” pleaseeee 🙏🙏

Hi Matt! 🫶

I answered bratty probie Buck/ new lieutenant Eddie here (be sure to check out @disasterbuckdiaz’s fic about it, I got the inspiration from her 😘)

Whispers of the dark is one of the first fics that I made an actual moodboard for and I can’t wait to provide y’all with another little snippet 🌹 (dw, he won’t be Evan the entire time but it’ll last a while)

(Ask me about my wips 💌)

Snippet under cut ✂️

As Evan moved his hand out from his jacket, the priest turned to face him, backlit by the glow from the burning candles, his features bathed in the golden light.

It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he pictured a priest - this man was young but older than him, Evan’s bet would somewhere in his mid to late thirties, tall, with caramel skin and dark brown eyes that appeared to be looking right through him. Below the clerical robe, Evan noticed a faded white scar, tracing from the middle the priests collarbone to the side of his neck - it was wide and appeared to have been fairly deep, the scar tissue thick and bumpy.

It ended right below his pulse point and Evan raised a brow, a puzzled expression on his face as he searched the priests face for a reaction.

“Unburden yourself and this house of worship will be a place where you can feel the light of your own soul and be able to feel the peace that you so clearly long to feel. Otherwise you would not be here. Am I correct?” The priest stepped closer to him and Evan stood his ground, not trusting his actions. Or showing any signs of weakness. But he also knew that the priest was right. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t looking for some sort of absolution or a break from being who he is, who he was always destined to be.

“No” was the only word that came out of Evan’s mouth. He didn’t know what he was saying no to. To unburden himself? To feel peace?

Eddie looked at the man in front of him - blue eyes that looked like they contained the weight of the world, pink lips pursed together and an unwavering stance in a suit that seemed to have been tailored to his exact measurements. Eddie knew who he was. He was pretty sure everyone in L.A. knew who he was. And that he was completely and utterly untouchable.

“Then I’m afraid that you’re going to have to leave the premises. I do not want guns in my church. If you truly seek to change your ways, you’ll come back unarmed” Eddie stood his ground, the subtle bulge underneath Evan’s jacket more than visible.

“You and I both know that I can’t do that, Father” Evan said, a flicker of defiance in his eyes as his jaw tightened.

Eddie, with an unwavering gaze, felt a pang of recognition deep inside of him. There was something in Evan’s behavior, a silent echo of a past that he couldn’t quite place.

“Then perhaps it's time to confront the shadows that haunt you, my son. Come back when you're ready to lay down your burdens and find a new way of life” Eddie spoke, his eyes never leaving Evan’s.

Using this as my seven sentence sunday (although it’s way more than seven sentences lol)

I was tagged by @tizniz @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie and @theotherbuckley 😚

Tagging!! @cal-daisies-and-briars @watchyourbuck @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @butraura @giddyupbuck @actualalligator @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @puppyboybuckley @poughkeepsies @wildlife4life @elvensorceress @wikiangela @underwater-ninja-13 @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz 🦋🩵

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 16

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

pregnancy angst

reader is a walking ball of angst at this point lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 16: Vanilla Ice Cream and Cheese

The lovely scents of lavender and patchouli pervade the Dream King’s bathroom, and they’re coming from the warm bath that Morwyn had just drawn and prepared for you before she left to prepare your dress. Now completely alone with nothing but your intrusive thoughts, you reach the ornate, full-length mirror, and right in front of it, you shed your sheer nightgown, staring at yourself, stark-naked, your eyes automatically honing on your abdomen. Like what you have been doing absently for the past three weeks, your hand hovers over your belly, rubbing it as if seeking to soothe your inner turmoil.

It’s been three weeks since your dreaming-abilities have been reinstated, which also means the life inside you that the Dream Lord had placed is also of the same age. You wonder how he’s doing inside, what he looks like, how he’s holding up. So far, he hasn’t made himself known yet - not that you expected him to, not for another two, maybe three weeks more. Before you know it, he’ll grow big and snug inside, and then he’ll be out into the world and you’ll be cradling him in your arms, and he’ll be clinging unto you, looking to you for anything and everything: he will seek milk from your bosom, he will crave your touch and your warmth, your kind words, your love.

As if doubling in pain, you fall on the floor in a foetal position, and what starts out as a small, choked sob becomes a wail that bounces off the bathroom tiles and walls. You clutch your chest as you bawl and scream heavily for reasons muddled, even to you - was it because he’s here, and you’ll soon feel his little heartbeat alongside yours? Does being a mother frighten you that much? Will he hate you when he finds out he’s been conceived so unwillingly, not out of love despite the facade you’d have to put up to save him from all the hurt his father had put you through?

There is no comfort from these thoughts, especially not when the Dream Lord himself wraps your bare, trembling form with his own, starry cloak and picks you up from the floor so he could take you in his arms in an unrelenting embrace that to him, means to console - to you, however, it’s just a prison, just another cage he’s placing you in as he tangles your strings of fate further into his. And yet, there is no one else around you but him, and so in the lull of his soft whispers and the warmth of his grip, you eventually tire out and your crying wanes to that of mere sniffling, he takes his robe off you gently and carries you to the bathtub. The water, which has already gone tepid, begins to steam lightly once more, indicating that he had warmed it up for you. He lowers you to the water with so much care, and without shedding his clothes, he follows suit, helping you bathe like he did the morning after your first night with him, except, thankfully, he doesn’t pleasure you - it’s an act of pure intentions it seems, as hard as that may be to believe. Once he’s done, he wordlessly steps away, his clothes already dry, and conjures a robe and a towel and sets it on the edge of the tub, now empty of water. He sits on the edge as well, close to you, while you hug your knees in your modesty (as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you). With delicate grace, he caresses your cheek with a finger, and you avoid looking directly into those blue eyes, fearing what you might find.

“Mera, my dream, will you be alright if I leave you to dry up?” he asks quietly.

You give him the tiniest of nods as you stare blankly at the porcelain at your feet. He lingers for a moment, as if hesitating, but in the end, he gives you a kiss on the top of your head and steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once you step out of the bathroom, you find your Dream Lord hunched over on the study table, inspecting the books you had borrowed from the library. His eyes roam your robed figure for a moment before walking over to you, satisfied with what he sees. He calls for Morwyn, who promptly emerges from behind the room divider, and then gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I will wait here. We will talk,” he says after he pulls away.

Morwyn bows to him and escorts you behind the divider so she could dress you in private. She makes an expert work of your gown - a form-fitting satin gown with long, delicate tulle sleeves gathered in tiers with silk ribbons - and in no time, she excuses herself, leaving you and your Lord alone in the chambers you now share.

So, there you awkwardly stand, awaiting what he has to say. Once you notice that almost-imperceptible sigh, you brace yourself.

“It seems you are unwell, dream of mine,” he notes, stepping closer to you so he could tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ears. “What ails you in this lovely morning?”

You only shake your head in response, as the answer evades you, too.

With the smallest of smiles, his hands find their way to your waist, his thumbs rubbing tender circles on your belly. “Is our child giving you trouble?”

“No, my Lord -”

But he cuts you off with a finger to your lips. “Did I not tell you to call me by my name? Do you not recall freely using my name in the heat of our love-making?” he jests lightly.

His attempts to tease are lost on you, given you’re in no mood for such, but you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your ears.

“My apologies, Lord Morpheus,” you amend.

“That’s better,” he says, grinning wider as he strokes your abdomen and takes your cheek in his palms. He has always been touchy, but he’s recently taken to placing his hands on you even more so at every opportunity.

“I should like the mother of my own child to address me with familiarity. And if he is making a fuss, that is perhaps because he takes after you. He will be a force of nature once he comes out, and he will be, as you are to me, the bringer of my joy.”

You close your eyes as he dips his head and kisses your forehead before moving to your lips. It’s a chaste kiss, but his lips pull away, a mere millimetres away from yours as he breathes your air, rendering you lightheaded.

“You will stay in our chambers for the remainder of the day.”

Abruptly, you open your eyes and pull away from him completely, bristling at his command.

“Lord Morpheus, please reconsider, I have a dreamer -”

“Who can wait,” he interrupts one more in a clipped manner, his gaze growing sterner by the second.

You rub your face with your palms in your distress before pleading your case again and telling him the truth.

“Lord Morpheus, I’d be more distraught if I stayed here all day, I’ve got to do something,” you implore him, and with a gesture you know he couldn’t resist, you take his hand in yours and reassure him, “Our little one will be fine, and so will I.”

His stare softens considerably as he contemplates your request, and in acquiescence, he kisses the hand holding his and uses it to pull you close to him. You close your eyes as he captures your lips in a sensual kiss, priming yourself for what you know is about to come.

“Then indulge me, my dream: I must have you now,” your Lord whispers hotly in your ear before his tongue laps up the skin on the crook of your neck, his hands quickly hiking up the hem of your gown.

You really shouldn’t have held his hand.

***

Frantically, you straighten the kinks on your dress as you make your way down the massive marble staircase. You’re quite late to work, and you know it - it doesn’t help that you could barely walk because your boss had just decided to fuck the daylights out of you on his study table this early in the morning. You could still feel his seed damping your underwear which he strictly ordered you not to clean off.

“I’d like my dream to go about her day filled to the brim with her king’s essence,” you remember him growling over your ear as he filled you with his warmth.

So here you are, reaching the end of the staircase and about to take a sharp turn, when you hear the voice of Morwyn in a tone you never heard her use before.

“...you oughta be ashamed of yourselves, tattling about when you two should be at work!” You hear her furious tone, clearly reprimanding someone you couldn’t see. “Don’t you go spreading false rumours, or I’ll tell the King and he’ll have your tongue. The princess is far more virtuous than any of you combined,” she hisses just as you emerge from the corner.

Cowering before her are two of your Lord’s dreams, already looking at their feet in shame - they must’ve heard you approach, for they look up to see you, and you get a glimpse of their pale faces before they bow deeply and excuse themselves from your attendant’s ire and run away from the scene.

“Morwyn, what was that about?” you ask curiously, taking note of her fuming expression.

She releases a huff and responds, “M’lady, they were just gossiping, really, awful stuff. And slacking off.”

You might not be the smartest person in the world, but you know enough to conclude the topic of the rumour. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

“Well, uh…” Morwyn hesitates, but your exasperated smile encourages her to go on. “Yes, m’lady. I heard them talking about how they think you, uhm…”

“They think that I…?”

“Slept with the king to get ahead, m’lady,” she murmurs, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

You place a hand on her shoulder, touched that she had defended your honour the way she did.

“You have a good heart, Morwyn, and thank you for telling me,” you praise. “And as for the rumour, I’m quite used to it, actually. They’ve been at it even before the Dream King’s century-long departure,” you add with a shrug.

Morwyn looks up at you with a despondent expression, clearly still upset on your behalf. “But, if they’re talking about you that way, we oughta tell the King so he could do something about it…”

“No,” you say with a firm tone and shake of your head, your expression turning serious. “He will not be kind to them if he finds out.” Unwillingly, in your mind, you see Nuros’ face, a long-forgotten dream whom you’ve never seen again after the Dream Lord’s supposed ‘talk’ with her.

“He can be cruel, especially about anything that concerns me, and he will be unless he does not find out.” 

“I understand, m’lady,” she says with a bow, before adding determinedly, “But if I ever hear them again, I’m making no promises.”

You chuckle lightly at her remark while she opens her mouth and closes it again, as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“You know, you can tell me anything, right?”

She gives a small nod, before starting, “You’re the only one who’s ever treated me nicely, m’lady. The other dreams look down on me because even though the Dream Lord created me, I was never given dream-forming abilities.” She pauses, wringing her hands in front of her. “So thank you for treating me like…like I’m not different.”

Your heart clenches at her revelation, so to comfort her, you clasp both her hands in yours. “But you aren’t different, Morwyn. We all have a function to fulfil. And so far, you’ve been fulfilling them beyond expectations. Pay the rumours no mind and they’ll get tired eventually.

“Now if you get pushed, you can always tell them to fuck off. Come to me anytime you need anyone to talk to,” ” you add with a wink, knowing very well how it feels to have no one on your side.

“Thank you, m’lady. You have my loyalty, as always.” 

Bowing deeply once more, she excuses herself, leaving you feeling like you just gained another treasured friend.

Maybe an eternity here isn’t so bad with them around.

***

The throne room basks in the magnificent glow of the sunlight streaming through thousands of stained window panels that mirror the feelings of its sovereign. The King in question, currently at his full height at the foot of the winding stairs, his eyes focusing on nothing but the vibrant display of the glass behind his throne - his perfect dream and perfect nightmare, showcased side-by-side, their colour palettes contrasting and complementing each other.

The King of Dreams has many things occupying his mind, his little dream and the little one inside her being two of them. You, probably on your way to the sea of dreams to grace a lucky dreamer with your inspiring presence - the mother of his child, both of them so precious and so fragile, braving the wonders and the horrors of the human collective unconscious. And if he was being honest with himself, you being out there, exposed and vulnerable to humanity’s depravity, deeply unsettles him.

The tall, arched double doors to his throne room burst open, and the panels rapidly transform to only the likeness of the nightmare that he had just summoned. The Dream Lord turns to his feet to face him as he strides forward and halts a few feet away from the foot of the stairs.

“You called, my Lord?” the nightmare drawls lazily, placing his hands in his pocket.

“Corinthian,” Morpheus acknowledges his presence with a slight tilt of his head, using his sand to lock the doors and prevent any wayward being from eavesdropping. “Watch over the princess in the sea of dreams. Ensure that no harm befall her and my son.”

The Corinthian pauses momentarily as he raises an eyebrow. “So, now I'm supposed to babysit her, and the new nightmare?” he asks slowly as if trying to process the words of his master’s command.

“Sumnio will do fine on his own,” Dream replies with a dismissive tone. “The princess is infinitely more important.”

“She's not gonna like this,” the Corinthian comments under his breath. Morpheus hears it, of course, but he chooses to ignore it. Scratching his head with a lone finger, he adds, a bit louder this time, “And with all due respect, my Lord, I think she is more than capable of handling herself.”

It’s the King’s turn to raise his eyebrow; of course, he knows just how capable he had made you to be, but you also had this incredible proclivity to attract trouble, given your not-so-recent brush with a certain mortal man. He chooses to hide this observation, as he always does - he just clasps his hands in front of him, keeping his blank mask. 

“My concern is simply of her well-being and that of our child, whom she bears. She will come to terms with it.”

Releasing a defeated sigh, the Corinthian relents. No point arguing with him, especially about you.

“Have it your way, your ma-jes-ty.” He retreats to exit the same way he came in.

It doesn’t escape Morpheus the way his nightmare addressed him tauntingly. He ignores that, too, his stare boring a hole in the back of his creation’s head. As an afterthought, he chooses to give him a second order.

“Corinthian,” he calls, his booming voice echoing in the throne room.

His nightmare turns sideways with a huff. “Yes? My Lord?”

“Keep her away from him,” he says simply, not bothering to elaborate.

The nightmare just dips his head, indicating that he recognized his master’s meaning.

“Of course, your Majesty.”

The doors close behind him with a resounding boom as he left, and Morpheus had expected his worries to go away with him.

Instead, he plops down on his throne with a sigh, his concern for you growing more than ever.

***

The large operating room provides quite the spectacle: the fabled surgeon, elbows-deep in the guts of a patient under anaesthesia and the crowd of medical students keenly observing the master at work - but your eyes are glued to the face of seven-year-old Ida Fisher in her thirty-five-year-old body, concentrating hard on the patient whose life hangs in the balance. The entire room awaits with bated breath, and the only noise that permeates is the quiet beeping of the life monitor. The dream you had formed from the beginning had blossomed into a fully-realised fantasy of little Ida’s future career, so you grin under your medical mask and pat yourself on the back for a job well done.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you slowly back away until you reach the door and promptly exit. Swinging the door open with care, you see other students crowding the observation glass, all craning their necks to get a glimpse of Ida’s medical expertise. As soon as the door closes, however, you hear a familiar voice call you over the dream-hospital’s PA system.

“Calling the princess to ICU, calling the princess to ICU.”

You shake your head in mild amusement as you make your way to the Intensive Care ward, passing through the dream-nurses and dream-patients Ida’s mind has conjured. You push the double doors, which swing shut behind you, to find your favourite nightmare, clad in the same blue scrubs as yours, down to the tinted medical goggles and the rubber clogs doctors seem to fancy so much.

Pulling your medical mask back down, you greet him with a smirk. “If this was the last view I’d get under the knife, I don’t think I’d want to wake up.”

“You wish,” The Corinthian bites back with a grin matching yours, adjusting his medical gloves as you both pace the sterile hall.

“So, to what do I owe this visit?” you ask, waving your hand to instantly get rid of your hospital gear. 

He clicks his tongue at the change, saying in mock disappointment, “I liked you better with the scrubs on.”

You roll your eyes at him and jest, “You know, some of us have actual work to do?”

He lets out a chuckle as he steals a clipboard from an unwitting dream-nurse, flipping over the chart before chucking it behind him. “You're not going to like this bit.”

“No, I already don't. What is it?”

He stops before a room labelled ‘Supply Room,’ and you follow him wordlessly inside, locking the door for good measure.

“Guess who his royal prickness assigned to be your bodyguard,” he states, leaning on a cabinet filled with IV bags.

“The fuck?” you blurt out, waiting for him to take it back, only for him to give you a smug look. “Oh, bloody hell. Why did I not see this coming? What about Sumnio?”

“Says he'll do fine without me,” your friend quips as he lights up a cigarette, not caring if he triggers the smoke alarm.

You run your hands through your hair in slight aggravation. You don’t actually mind him hanging around with you while you work - what you take offence to is the fact that your Dream Lord thinks you still need to be watched over like you’re some dainty little fairy. Like you had not proven time and again your ability to weasel your way out of sticky situations.

“I'm not weak and I don't need protection,” you protest to him.

He just nods as he takes a deep drag out of his cigarette, clearly as unamused as you are. “Yep, told him that.”

“I don't like this.”

“Told him that, too.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks, annoyed at this development. A few seconds of silence pass between you and your friend as you process your ‘workplace dissatisfaction’ together. 

“So, are you going to follow me around in the dreams, now?” you ask tentatively.

“Fuck, no. I got better things to do,” he responds coolly. “Just don’t get yourself in trouble,” he adds as an afterthought while he extinguishes the flame of his half-finished cigarette on the shelf and flicks it away.

“And…if he asks?”

“Tch. I’ll think of something. Anyway,” your friend straightens his scrubs, preparing to be on his way. “I’ve got to run.”

“Off to your nightmare boyfriend?” you ask, batting your eyelashes in mock innocence.

He lets out a dry, clipped laugh and pulls a scalpel out of his scrub pocket, brandishing it at you. “Keep at it and I might just use this on you.”

“Where are you going, dressed like that, anyway?” you question him curiously.

“Another hospital dream, I guess. Not much blood here, I miss it.”

He motions farewell with a two-finger salute, his usual fashion, and you call out ‘say ‘hi’ to your dear little nightmare for me’ as he vanishes, managing an enthusiastic middle finger at you just as he moves on to another dreamer.

You’re done with Ida Fisher, so you follow suit, letting yourself get sucked into the ocean of dreams before it throws you into the mind of another sleeping human.

***

Two more eventful weeks pass for you - two tumultuous weeks of the infamous morning sickness, sudden mood changes, and weird food cravings (currently, you’ve been shovelling down soggy, sugar-frosted corn flakes and eating lemon curd by the spoonful), and surprisingly, your Dream King has been nothing but sympathetic, even indulging you and accompanying you when you wake up in the middle of the night to raid the kitchens for something to munch on. 

He was there, this morning, holding your hair back as you retched what remained of last night’s kitchen raid, cooing words of comfort. After that nasty bout of hurling until your stomach cramped, he had attempted to bring up the topic of you staying in his chambers for the rest of the day, but you weren’t in the mood for arguing - instead, you shot him a reproachful look, and he actually ended up relenting, much to your astonishment.

But, all this came with a price: he has been more handsy with you as of late, and he’s gotten rougher, more possessive in bed, sometimes even summoning you in the middle of work, only for you to end up staying in his room for the remainder of the day because you’re too fucked out to get up and walk. 

Despite these rather unsavoury changes to your routine, one thing you’d never let him touch is your work. Forming dreams was and is still your only outlet, and whenever you’re out there, inspiring a soul, you’d forget everything, including yourself - after all, dreams are all about them, and reading about their eventual success in their books gives you such a rush like no other.

You imagine it’s already past noon in the Dreaming, it’s hard to tell at times, but you could tell by the number of dreamers you had visited. You had just finished your seventh for the day, just lazily nibbling on a cheese pretzel as you wait for Ezekiel Gantz’s alarm to ring so he could get to work and absolutely kill it in his client presentation.

Before you, however, materialises a small piece of stationary with sprawling cursive writing - it isn’t your first time receiving the note in the same manner, so you let it fall on your lap. You could read its contents clear as day without even picking it up:

My dream,

Come see me in the library

With a sigh you get up from the office chair you’re lounging on and exit Ezekiel’s dreams, confident he’ll ace his meeting later with the big bosses.

Time to meet your own big boss.

***

You spend a good five, maybe ten minutes navigating the maze that is your Lord’s library, just looking for him among the towering shelves. You reach what is one of the most secluded areas, huffing at the effort. Finding no sign of him, you pick up a book from one of the shelves instead before you head back to the dreams. Just as you’re about to flip the cover open, you spot a dark shadow emerging from among the shelves out of the corner of your eye. Perhaps he took pity on you scrambling around and decided to show himself instead.

“My dream,” he half-whispers in that deep, velvety voice: a sign that you wouldn’t like what’s coming to you next.

“You sent for me, my Lord? May I ask what for?” you reply meekly, backing away as he approaches until your backside hits a desk.

You know what for, the Voice snidely comments.

Deciding to ignore that bit, you focus solely on the warm body pressing against yours and the lips now peppering your neck with wet kisses and nipping at your earlobe. Urgently, his mouth finds yours and makes both your tongues dance in a game of dominance he always wins. Pulling away, he whispers over your lips:

“I do not need a reason to see my beloved, the mother of my son, the only one from whom I seek pleasures of the flesh…”

He draws out the final phrase slowly as his hands bunch the hem of your dress, but your hand deters his, countering, “Lord Morpheus, Lucienne -”

“Is not your concern. I have closed off this part of the library,” he cuts you off, dragging his nose along your jawline and sucking on your pulse point. You gasp involuntarily at the warmth of his tongue on your skin, sending shivers all over your body - one thing you’ve discovered is that being with a child made you even more sensitive - and when he squeezes both of your breasts through your dress, the sensation actually sends jolts of electricity to your abdomen and heat pooling between your thighs. Your Lord knows this, for you feel him smirk against your collarbone before he bites down on it. Pulling the neckline of your dress, he exposes your breasts, tender in your pregnancy, and his mouth is on your nipple at once, licking and sucking and biting each of them and eliciting soft sighs and gasps from you.

“I need to be inside you, dream of mine.”

He plants one final peck on your lips before he turns your body, pushing you down on the desk, your breasts pressed against the cold, lacquered wood. He then lifts your dress to reveal his prize: your ass, and the lacy underwear hiding it from his view, an obstacle that he just pulls down to reveal your damp entrance.

You had nothing to hold on to but the edges of the table, so when you hear his zipper being pulled down, you brace yourself closing your eyes and biting your lips, whimpering as his hard cock parts your folds, taking your wetness, before plunging it in its entirety. He groans in pleasure as he begins sliding in and out of you, and at that moment you couldn’t help but let out the loud moans you intended to stifle. Even after the countless times he has bedded you, he still stretches you out to the point of mild discomfort, and he knows it all too well, for he likes brushing repeatedly against your sweet spot before bottoming out, only to hit it again as he withdraws his length. He finds a rhythm that always made you see white spots in your vision, all while holding you down firmly on the table with his hands, rendering you unable to meet his hips - you’re helpless, moaning and mewling wantonly, and at your Lord’s mercy, but it’s so, so good, and it’s in these moments where you lose all thoughts except him and his cock ramming into you until he takes you to oblivion. 

“Lord Morpheus…fuck…”

Spurred by the way you moaned his name and the foul language that followed it, he brings his body close to yours - even with both your clothes in the way, his warmth invades your senses - he whispers heatedly in your ear:

“Language, my dream. I should punish you for that.”

He is always true to his words, for the pace that follows is one that makes your knees buckle, and if it weren’t for him gripping your waist in support you could’ve fallen to the floor.

“I should tie you up to my bed and lock my chambers, just so you could be ready for me to take whenever I please…”

Your response is nothing but a strangled noise escaping your throat. He continues rutting into you, and you start clenching his cock more erratically - you’re so close, so close…

“It will give me so much pleasure to take you even as you grow round with child…”

One particular rough thrust brings tears to your eyes - are you crying due to pleasure or pain? - not that you cared at this point, because you have only one focus - with a sharp cry, you come hard, and the cry is immediately followed by a series of teary, throaty moans and uncontrollable trembling brought about by your master’s insistence at finding his own release. With your orgasm being drawn out in long, torturing seconds, you could feel him losing his pace, until, finally, he groans loudly in your ear, and your womb is filled to the brim with his scorching hot seed. He comes so hard, thrusts so deeply, that the table beneath you creaks, and when he finally pumps the last of his cum inside you, his thrusts soften and slow down while your walls clench him feebly until he eventually stills within you.

You try to catch your breath, and to give you some air, his body pulls away from yours, all while carefully staying inside you. He had once confessed, after one of your many passionate nights, that he likes staying inside you for as long as he could, wanting, craving for as much contact with you as he can. In your fucked out state, you barely note how his hands travel all over your body with so much gentleness, as he often does after you both finish. Perhaps it’s an attempt to soothe you after he had taken you so mercilessly.

When he pulls out from you at last, he places your underwear back and rights your gown, while you manage to prop yourself up with your elbows and shakily get on your feet. You could feel a dull sensation between your thighs, one you just might not ever get used to, but his arms wrap around your waist to support you. He kisses your lips softly, and then your forehead, not caring about the sweat beading on your skin. When he’s done, he just stays in place, his hand finding its way to the back of your head and bringing it close to his heart, while your arms, finding nothing better to do, snake around his back.

“Lord Morpheus,” you call to him in a whisper.

Humming against your hair, he responds, “Yes, my little dream?”

“I’m hungry.”

Your Dream Lord lets out a light-hearted chuckle - a rarity for him - and he pulls away so he could look into your face, his own displaying a small smile.

“What do my dream and my little one crave?”

“Mmm…vanilla ice cream,” you declare, adding, “And cheese. Vanilla ice cream with cheese mixed in.”

***

Even after a few more weeks come by, you continually crave the same thing over and over: creamy vanilla ice cream with tiny bits of mild cheddar mixed in it. There are other food combinations, of course, but in between increasingly volatile emotions and longer bouts of throwing up every goddamn morning, it’s one of the only things you could hold down.

“Want some?” you ask your nightmare friend sitting across you, holding out the large bowl of ice cream to him.

“Nah, I don’t care much for pregnant-women food,” the Corinthian responds with his nose turned up, raising his cup of coffee. “I’ll stick to this, thanks.”

You’re back in the garden, taking advantage of one of your rare breaks from work. You had asked him many times to bring Sumnio so you could finally meet the nightmare he had a crush on (even if he’d rather be unmade than ever admit it). But he never does, much to your dismay. Maybe one of these days, you could find the human they’re frequenting and walk in on them, preferably making out, but given how busy you are with your current dreamers, you don’t see that happening soon.

“Fine, I’ll try it,” he says grudgingly, scooping a teaspoonful of ice cream from your bowl and sceptically tasting it. “Not bad,” he comments with a tilt of his head and gives it another go.

“Lady Mera!”

You whip your head in the direction of the voice that had just called you now. From afar, you see Morwyn running to your table, with a very familiar face traipsing behind her, almost floating, playing with tiny, colourful fish circling her head in midair.

Lady Delirium has found herself in her older brother’s realm, it seems.

And she spots you from the distance. You raise a hand in a tentative wave, and she comes running to you, reaching you even before Morwyn does.

“Meraaaaa!!!” she squeals in delight and lunges at you with a huge hug. “Oh, he sounds like he’s growing happily,” she comments with a knowing glance. You smile, not knowing what to make of it.

Morwyn catches up at last, with her hands on her knees and panting heavily, motioning to Lady Del and breathlessly mentioning the word ‘visitor.’ You hand her a glass of water which she gratefully accepts.

You turn to Lady Delirium, who you spot greeting the Corinthian and sampling your momentarily forgotten, rapidly melting ice cream bowl.

“Mera, you know what’s a great ice cream flavour? Telephone pole!” she exclaims, brandishing the teaspoon dripping with melting ice cream, spraying some of it on the Corinthian’s sunglasses.

“That’d be a bit chewy, I imagine,” you say thoughtfully, offering her a seat at the table and motioning to the tray of sweets for her to sample. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch your friend wiping his glasses with a table napkin. As Morwyn excuses herself, the youngest Endless takes a cinnamon roll out of the tray and takes a large bite.

“Mmm! I know this,” she comments, her eyes lighting up maniacally as she tends to do when an idea crosses her mind. “I remember why I came here. I find it difficult to remember stuff these days, but I think I remember that thing pretty clearly.”

Right across from you, your friend scratches his head, muttering to himself, “Interesting. Very gripping.”

As if she didn’t hear him, she sways in her seat, continuing, “Remember what I said about friends helping each other? And about friends helping each other find what they lost?”

You set down your now-empty bowl, curiosity now piqued. “Yes, my lady. What of it?” 

“You’re my friend, and I found what you lost, so you know…yey!”

“What I ‘lost?’”

“I’m getting outta here,” your friend leaps to his feet, leaving his cup of coffee half-finished. Looking up at him, you read the two words on his lips quite clearly: ‘bad idea.’

“Bye, Cori!” Lady Del waves enthusiastically at his retreating form, before her eyes stare into yours - uncanny, the way her mismatched eyes seem to perceive things about you you aren’t even familiar with.

“If we go to the dreams now, we can -”

“She is not going anywhere, little sister.”

As soon as your Dream Lord reaches your full view, you get up abruptly, intending to say a polite ‘hello,’ but you forgo the thought almost immediately when you see his expression. He’s scowling heavily, his posture rigid, directing his ire at his sibling, the only company you have left, who’s smiling rather innocently and pointedly ignoring her brother’s harsh stare. “Delirium, this is the second time you’ve come to my realm unannounced.”

“But I said I was coming. It wasn’t that nice of you, ignoring my calls like that,” she comments, rubbing the back of her neck while her hair transforms into a dull, brown bob.

“My apologies, sister. I was busy with Dreaming matters. I shall be with you momentarily.”

And then, his gaze turns to you, his eyes searching, accusing, even.

But you haven’t done anything. So, you meet his eyes with resolve, wondering how on earth you’ve gotten on his bad side.

“Come with me,” he says.

It’s a simple command, but a foreboding one, especially as his sand circles the both of you and reveals his chambers once it clears. Growing more confused with his behaviour, you open your mouth to question him, but he beats you to it:

“I hereby forbid you to speak to Delirium and set foot in the sea of dreams.”

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Ya’ll really thought he’d have no qualms with her getting back to work? LOL this is Dark!Morpheus we talkin bout :P if he could, he would control Mera’s schedule right down to the minute :P he’ll hold on to whatever aspect of Mera’s life he could control

Also, I think we have four or five??? more chapters to this story, and it's already close to 100k words (96k)!! Funny how plot points keep adding up and growing :D

final note: forgive the *ehem CHEESY title xD

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 2/04/23

Edit date: 2/04/23

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

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@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

[linda-likes-to-draw]

Artist Challenge! Feat. Chrysanthe (@99corentine )

hooh BOY look at all these Chry's! Look at all his armours aha! I had a lot of fun with these, drawing all these scenarios haha features lots of references from GOL HAH DOV!

I tried my best to translate these and squish all the texts together without getting rid of the original watermarks... so sorry if they look confusing! (computer texts look so bad..)

Image Description below!

1ST: Around a campfire Chrysanthe, Lucien and Teldryn set up somewhere in Solstheim, Chrysanthe visibly struggles to finish the Ash Yam soup in his hands after trying it. Lucien tells Teldryn “Told you it's terrible!”, referring to the Ash Yam soup that now both Lucien and Chrysanthe dislikes. Teldryn replies “Tsk. You uncultured N'wahs.” as he enjoys ash yams and is annoyed his two companions don't. Chrysanthe is wearing Steel Plates Armour.

2ND: In one of the early days of Chrysanthe's adventuring, before the whole Dragonborn ordeal, Chrysanthe, Lucien and Erandur travel in nordic tombs. Chrysanthe, wearing Steel Armour, pulls at a lever and suddenly getting shot by poison dart traps. This causes him to be poisoned and he pukes blood. Erandur and Lucien are surprised by this sudden trap in the background.

3RD: Takes place after Chry killed Ancano and saved the day in the College of Winterhold. Hooray! Tolfdir is telling Chry, holding the Staff of Magnus and wearing hooded college robes, to be the new Arch-Mage and Chry is highly disinterested lol

4TH: Chrysanthe in the quest The House Of Horrors, a quest located in the Abandoned House in Markarth. He just killed Vigilant Tyranus, the Vigilant sent to investigate the house with the player but is then convinced by Molag Bal to kill you. Chry hesitantly killed him, and is very, very disturbed :)c

5TH: The very morning after Chrysanthe's first telepathy with Miraak in the Winterhold inn. Thanks to Lucien, offscreen, he's covered in a fluffy blanket with tea. He's in a very bad state as he tries his best not to collapse in front of Lucien again.

6TH: The honey smut from chapter 16 of GHD ;)) Chry and Miraak are sitting opposite each other near a lake as the sun sets in the background. They are both sweating and little hearts can be seen popping up from below :)

7TH: Entirely a made-up scenario of a possible post-GHD scene where Chry and Miraak are living together and Chry accidentally catches Miraak finish taking a bath in the bathroom. Miraak is facing the door with his body visibly nude and wet as Chry stands at the door, surprised and flustered at the view.

8TH: Chry in ebony armour! with Lucien next to him as they pose like the meme from Spiderman: Into The Spiderverse. HMMN are on top of them as it is a sound Chry makes a lot. sksksk

[evadingreallife]

Re: accappatoio, does Italian have a separate word for a bathrobe?

In English I wouldn't say it's a rigid distinction, but often a "bathrobe" is used specifically for something you put on when you're still wet from the bath, so it's made of terrycloth or some other towel-like fabric material. But a "robe" can also be something you put on over pajamas to be warm, so the materials vary more: polyester fleece, cotton flannel, silk, etc.

And if it's very fancy or like something you'd wear in the 19th century but not today, do you still use the word accappatoio?

So, bathroom towels (big or small) are asciugamani (literally hand-driers) and are of course specific to bathroom use. If you put on a robe-like towel like the one in the picture after the shower then that, and only that, is an accappatoio (idk ab the etymo tho). if you use a big towel after a shower is still an asciugamano. As far as i know we dont really have a tradition of house robes like i see in uk/usa movies, we just wear pjs or regular clothes, and if you're cold you put on a sweater or a jacket etc. (Or do it like me and go around with a light blanket wrapped around like im an ancient roman off to senate lol).

Wait no we do have "house robes", ie vestaglia, but its something i traditionally associate with grandmas etc, and ive never actually seen anyone wear it so idk. (There are modern short house robes resembling kimonos etc too and ive seen a couple of my girl friends with those tho).

[stargirlfics]

Hello friend! I'm here on a Pedro Scout Asknado mission. 🫡😘

If you could swipe any piece of clothing from your fave Pedro babe, which is it?

Ooh Ghoti this question!! 👀 you know I love a good outfit and honestly all the Pedro babes have such good wardrobes so this made me have to think

Definitely gotta go with the summer vibes and say I’d swipe Javi G’s yellow striped shirt like ooh it’s making me wanna sit by a pool ya know

And because I can’t narrow it down to just one I’m also gonna say Deiter’s green robe! It lowkey matches my green bath mat and towels and just looks so soft and I’m a sucker for cozy wear 💅🏾

And of course I can’t forget to mention Joel mf Miller and his green flannel 😵‍💫 why must he look so good in it?! I just know it would smell like him and it would definitely be the “item you swipe from your partner and now just becomes yours” lol

[offsidekineticist]

🐲 for Giliys (very curious if he has grooming habits), 🌸 for Theo, and 👚for Qweck!

🐲 If they have facial hair, do they style it, remove it, or just let nature take its course?

Giliys does have grooming habits! He also has complicated feelings about them because his Tragic Backstory is that growing up he was the "pet halfling" of a particularly sadistic child. So as a kid, personal grooming was something done to him according to the tastes of someone who tortured him for fun. When he became free, he eschewed most personal grooming as a sort of rebellion, but also because he thought the issue was that he didn't care about how he looked, rather than not caring for how he was made to look. When he met Theo, he had a wild, unkempt, stereotypical mountain man beard. Not long after this time, though, he became a little self conscious about his appearance (for some reason - I have no clue what could have possibly made him want to look nice around the time he met Theo (sarcasm)), and he started figuring out what he wanted to look like. During that era he tried a few higher maintenance styles and learned anything that required daily upkeep just wasn't going to work for him.

Nowadays he has a fairly laid back routine - he keeps his beard short enough that he doesn't have to comb it out or anything, but long enough that he doesn't have to trim it too often to keep it neat.

🌸 What do they smell like? Do they wear a signature scent?

Theo's scent is subtle. He doesn't wear cologne and generally goes for scentless or near scentless grooming products (shampoo, soap, etc) because he's been sensitive to strong smells since becoming a bleachling. So his scent is a combination of plain soap and his body's natural odor, with the soap being the more prominent smell unless he's been prevented from bathing.

(It was a different story when he was younger - yes, Theo, that smells nice. No, Theo, not so nice we want to be overwhelmed by it whenever you enter the room. He learned to tone it down because kids tend to be more sensitive to smell than adults, but his preference was for overpoweringly strong scents)

👚 What kind of clothing do they typically choose to wear? Why? Do they have any sensory issues that affect their choices?

I had to think about this one because I'm not so good at planning my characters' outfits, lol. Qweck, when she is not in her priestly robes, prefers flowy, comfortable clothes - the kinds that are good for keeping cool during hot Chelish summers. Things like long flowy skirts with a light drapey tunic, or wide legged pants if skirts aren't appropriate. When she moves to Kintargo she adapts that into long coats or sweaters over closer fitted pants to keep warm and dry during the rainy Kintargo winters, before returning to her usual style in the summer. In terms of colors, she prefers that her clothes be more muted. Most of the color of her look comes from her bright green hair or her eyes or even her non-bleached skin. She also is not a huge fan of printed or overly embroidered clothes, preferring that each item of clothing be a single color, maybe having a second as an accent. (She makes an exception to her dislike of embroidery for clothes that Theo mended for her - before Rivad he was quite the embroiderer, and anytime he mended anything, it ended up with a happy little bug or flower stitched onto it. Those little bugs become even more precious to her after Theo can't make them anymore)

[merv606]

Fluffy omegaverse! Daniel is happily married and pregnant, excited about about his and Terry's first pup...until he begins to gain weight and turn all plump and soft several months in. He's used to being slender and tiny, so this is all new. He keeps rebuffing Terry's advances and wearing loose clothing to hide his new figure, and hardly leaves their home. But what he doesn't know is that Terry is, if anything, even MORE turned on by Daniel's new curves and his cute omega chest and how squishy and adorable he's become lately. One day Terry catches him just finished with a bath, all damp and clean and rosy. But when Daniel sees him looking in and that expression on his face, he grabs a fluffy bathrobe to cover himself up and that's when Terry's control SNAPS. He carries him off to their bedroom, totally ignoring Daniel's protests. He's an Alpha, he knows what his little omega wants and needs better than he does--and he will show him. If he could he would put another pup in him, he looks so good...

Terry sits the fluffy bundle onto the bed, Daniel clutching the bathrobe together at the chest.

Terry kneels, one knee flat on the floor, the other up, his elbow resting on it as he looks at his mate.

Terry had thought he was just getting used to the changes his body was going through, and that he may even be uncomfortable - the only reason he was allowing Daniel to rebuff his attempts.

This though - this won’t do - this he will not tolerate.

His mate is beautiful to him all the time, but now, growing life inside him, life put there by Terry, so he will not have Daniel believe anything less than that.

And he will not longer be deprived of his mate in this state - Terry’s fingers itching to get his hands on his body and memorize the new softness and curves where sharp lines and bone used to be.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been letting you hide away, because I know the changes your body are going through are new but you aren’t to hide them away from me.

“And there is nothing to be ashamed of - your body is doing what it needs to do to provide for my pup.” He puts a finger under his chin forcing Daniel to look at him - “and that so the only thing that matters.”

“I like you that this as well.”

Daniel looks up at him suddenly.

“Being able to see what I’ve done to you - how your body is changing because of me ….

His grip on the robe loosens and Terry gently opens it, exposing the smooth tan skin hiding underneath.

“Now, we’re going to go out tonight, to your favourite place - I’ll be picking your outfit.”

He has not problem with Daniel wearing his clothes around the house - even if it is to hide the weight. He looks good in Terry’s clothes and he knows his little mate likes being surrounded by the safe smell of his alpha but he is going to start taking him out more - in outfits that are form fitting - Terry wants people to know as soon as they look at Daniel - what Terry has done to him.

Until then - he opens the bathrobe the rest of the way, small mounds where flat chest used to be, nipples swollen and a shade darker than normal.

He pinches at them, Daniel’s back arching, as he whimpers, pushing his thighs together in pleasure as Terry continues exploring them - cataloguing the changes in them. They’re thicker than normal and Terry knows they are textbook perfect for feeding their pup. He can’t wait until he starts producing from them.

The robe falls to his waist, leaving him totally exposed to his husband and Terry’s hands on his knees open his legs, Terry’s fingers creeping up to the warmth between them, the inviting wetness there.

“First I’m going to show you exactly how much I like you like this - in fact - I’ll probably have to keep you like this ….. you were made to be full of pups.”

Now I did have a story - You’re having My Baby - which is kind of touching on some similar themes (mainly chapter one - it was only supposed to be a one shot lol)

[phoenixenero]

Unfinished fan-art for some fantasy novels I've read from 2018-2021

I had a gander through my file archives and found some decent unpublished WIPs and stuff that I have no real inclination of finishing, but they honestly look kinda neat imo.

(I''m working on new stuff by the way. Also, some of these series weren't really as good as I remembered.)

February 2018: Drumindor, the abandoned dwarf fortress, Riyria Revelations by Michael J. Sullivan.

May 2019: Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss. Yawning Kvothe; Adem're; Auri; Vashtet and Penthe; That scene where Kvothe and Auri are discovered by the barefoot guy.

An attempt at Leo Bonhart (with likeness based on Lars Mikkelsen) from the Witcher novels by Andrzej Sapkowski. I think I made this before season one the Netflix series aired.

I'm pretty sure this character was from the Powder Mage trilogy by Brian McCellan, but I do not recall their name.

May 2019: Book cover-ish vibe, Mask of the Template by Cebelius.

July 2019: Good Intentions series by Elliott Kay. Trio is Rachel, Lorelei, and Alex (angel, demon, the dude). Second one is Alex facing off against an elder vampire from Rome in his bath robe. Also a very, uh, explicit series.

October 2019: Chris Gordon, Demon Accords. Didn't recall making something looking this menacing lol.

More Demon Accords stuff. I was previously quite obsessed with this series as it was urban fantasy, but I did realize later on that it was basically an Underworld AU w/ Twilight levels of romance and a concerning amount of U.S. right-wing politics subtly strewn about, none of which I particularly care for.

Anyway, that's all for now.

[emotori7]

i plan to redo some clothes and hairs I noticed some issues in certain ones so I plan to redo them and try to texture them better I thought bout giving my outfits a more realistic look or at least texture them better to look more like clothes then how they look in the show with no real textures and details and all I also found a lot of hairs people had made that looks very close to the way the winx girls hair styles are so I plan to use them in my game but have to put them in blender to use them to model my hair accessories so they will look good in game I plan to go for a more realistic look of how there hairs would look if they was real people but keep the style a fairly close as possible

Bloom's hair is the tricky one cause I can't tell if it's straight, curly or wavy someone told me it's all 3 someone said it's just wavy some say it's curly and some saids it's straight but curls that the end I don't really know I plan to just make it wavy

Her hair gonna be a blast for sure lol but I plan to redo a lot of the outfits that is why I haven't been posting anything and why I haven't uploaded content mostly because of the hairs and all I have the trix's necklace ready to go but their witch outfits is what I am redoing from scratch it's all off I was kinda rushing that day when I made them and only noticed how bad they are 😂 I want to redo Bloom's main outfit too so her pants won't look so "stiff" at the parts where they are split but it's mostly the hairs I am focusing on right now I am literally doing 100 things at once and trying to rush to finish so I can put content out finally I was planning to at the beginning of this year but that didn't happen 😔 lol but I hope to do so soon

I haven't even started on the guys or anyone else I only been focus on the girls because I am trying to get all the outfits ready

I need good bath robe ideas for flora and Aisha and Roxy since they are the only ones we never see in one

I need good ideas for mirta's outfits

I need good fairy versions for the Trix and witch versions for the Winx along with the teachers and all

I been working on my character's alchemy shop still need some good ideas for the layout there is a lot

And a good bathing suit idea for tecna and Roxy for season 1 and 2

A good priestess design for Daphne in the alternate world that I'm working on

there's a lot lol I been trying to focus on one thing at a time

I've also been trying to put all of the props and things like the sirenix boxes the mythix wands (even though I don't really plan on going that far they still existed in the world of winx long before their existence was known some people think I should go further then season 5 but I like to make that a stopping point to work on other things but there is a lot of stuff I do like in the seasons after 5 but I don't like the story or plot and some designs I like world of Winx designs though but I don't really like what rainbow had done after season 5 like changing the pixies and all) but once I finish redoing stuff I'll continue working on making other stuff and hopefully upload stuff as well (and hopefully stop forgetting to too lol I just get so carried away sometimes)

I plan to do a more Tinkerbell inspired world since I am combining every one of the planets in the magical universe of Winx club in one big magical realm where each planet will now be known as a kingdom in it my alternate version world (the world of reality) so lots to do