#make amends and bring her back
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wield-the-mighty-pen · 3 months ago
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When Felix finds out about Adrien’s secret identity, he almost has a heart attack when he learns what happened in puppeteer
Consequently, Nadja Chamack is woken up in the middle of the night by Manon having a nightmare, she’s not exactly sure what it’s about, but Manon keeps crying about some purple man with a projector?
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thebookworm0001 · 4 months ago
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Having thoughts about Ellana and Solas’s dynamics
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unganseylike · 7 months ago
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i hate when i get ghost baited by media. please let your ghost character be actually dead it was only cute when just like heaven did it 😭
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fujii-draws · 5 months ago
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(BREAKING THROUGH THE WALL) YOUR RECENT ART WITH DUSK AND BIBBONS ACTIVATED A WHOLE BUNCHA SPOTS IN MY HEAD AND IM GONNA TALK ABOUT IT TO YOU BECAUSE IT DID SOMETHING TO ME.
i think theres something about how the emotional journey that ribbons and dusk had to go on together as a reconciliation to what once was and what had unfortunately happened results in ribbons' ultimate act of trust in dusknoir, with the action of going head to head toe to toe with cresselia's idiot brother. how at first, she didn't even consider the IDEA of even looking at his direction and just throwing snide remarks at him when he tried to be more casual and stick around and now she trusts him with what is essentially the grandest point in their journey, and its both the amount of trust both of them have in each other that just speaks MULTITUDES. ribbons may had a rocky (and justified) path on the whole idea of trusting dusknoir, and yet she considered HIM to go with her on a mission that was equivalent to the world's weight on her shoulders. she chose HIM to be her support, and with just how much dusknoir doubted himself that he isnt worthy of such a pleasantry, it changed something within him. all his efforts, everything he strived for to ensure that the kids will stay safe away from the clutches of harm (and by some extent from himself), and all the guilt, shame and pain that resided in his heart from what he did.. this is the decisive battle that will decide if he is worthy of her respect, and to ensure his past will die a valiant death as he will look into the new future he is granted to.
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Sinnoh I know sometimes my responses to ur tags/asks are short and oftentimes lackluster in comparison. But the reason for that is bc you quite literally take the words right out of my mouth.
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dutybcrne · 4 months ago
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Most people would figure Kaeya to be a pretty crier, but in reality that’s either bc 1) He’s using crocodile tears to get what he wants or 2) he’s cut himself off before he ACTUALLY starts crying
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ziskandra · 2 years ago
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omgggg...tell me everything about Meredith - she's the Inquisitor!
I’ve answered about Inquisitor Meredith here, but hey, have another snippet!
Loghain: if we kill each other, Corypheus wins
Meredith: would that really be so bad
Loghain: [sighs] I didn’t save my country from the Blight just to have the entire world torn asunder by yet another Darkspawn
[WIP asks]
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ebodebo · 4 months ago
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Hey, Waiter!
NSFW CONTENT
next
��you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck
—jason todd x f!reader
—2.7k+
wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !
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"Honey, cross your legs."
"Honey, sit up straighter."
"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."
These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.
It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.
So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.
"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.
Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.
"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.
"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.
"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.
Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.
"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.
"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest
"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.
"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.
Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.
"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.
"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.
"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.
"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.
"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.
While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.
"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.
You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.
Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.
"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.
"You know the latch and all."
"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.
"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.
"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.
"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.
"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.
"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.
"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.
"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.
"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.
"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.
"Jason," he adds.
Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.
"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.
"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.
"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.
"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."
You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."
"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”
You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.
"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.
"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.
"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.
"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.
"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.
"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.
"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?
You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.
"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.
"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.
"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.
"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.
His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.
"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.
"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.
You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.
"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.
"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.
"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.
He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.
You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.
"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.
"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.
"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.
"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.
"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.
"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.
"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.
You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.
"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.
You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.
Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.
You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.
"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.
Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.
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a/n: jason todd = thought daughter
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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the-other-art-blog · 6 months ago
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Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."
The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."
Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.
ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN
He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.
He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.
And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹
He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.
He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!
He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.
He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.
He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.
He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:
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Then with Pen...
He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.
He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.
The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.
Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.
He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.
He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.
HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!
Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.
You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.
Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.
And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.
Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.
I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.
(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)
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natalievoncatte · 3 months ago
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There was a knock at Lena’s door, and it startled her awake. She was awake, but also wasn’t, sitting in a side chair beside her sofa with a glass of whisky still in her hand, loosely held by tired, nerveless fingers. It nearly fell from her palm when the sound jolted her from the twilight between fitful wakefulness and falling asleep sitting up. By her side was that goddamn picture, the glass still cracked. She grabbed it and forced it down so she didn’t have to see her grinning face, feel the ghost of a warm soft cheek lightly grazing hers.
The whisky made a fiery stab at her heart as she finished it and went to the door. She already knew who it was, the only person who’d dare disturb her at this hour, and who could get past her security.
Kara stood in the hall, clad in fluffy pajamas and disbelieved, tracks left by hot tears still cut into her soft rosy cheeks. There she was, the pretty little crying princess again.
It was an act. It was bullshit. The real her was hiding behind it, standing tall, appraising Lena’s faults with eyes that could burn mountains, the cold judgment of an extinct empire carved into her godlike, inhuman beauty. Lena made herself see that, refused to let her guard down.
“What, Kara?”
“Can I come in?”
Lena didn’t even answer. She began to close the door, only for her movement to be arrested by a single word.
“Please.”
Part of her made her stop. She seethed against it, hated it. She had carved icy knives of vengeance to carve it out herself. Alcohol had failed to drown it and the sharpest logic was dull against it. It was both too hard to crush and too soft to squeeze, this hateful thing that coiled around her heart and made her feel when she had sworn never to feel again.
Kara took a halting step forward. Lena threw out her palm and pressed it into her chests, stopping her.
She shouldn’t have done that. There was something heady and intoxicating in it. Kara froze in place, and Lena could feel her pulse along her collarbones. The pinnacle of alien might, strength so vast that nothing could stand as her equal, and she stopped from Lena’s lightest touch. That was power.
“What do you want?”
“Just to talk.”
“I’ve heard your apologies. Don’t waste my time unless you have some new material.”
Kara licked her lips. “Maybe.”
They couldn’t stay like this. Resting a hand on her chest had too many possibilities. Touching her had too many implications. It would be so easy to let the soft thing win and bring her hand up and hold her palm to that soft cheek and seek to balm those tears, make it better, care.
She let herself remember that Kara’s pain was a shoeld for Supergirl’s judging wrath and pulled back, but she didn’t close the door. Kara did as she slipped inside.
Thee was a heavy pause of silence, where Kara just breathed, soft and ragged.
“Why are you here?” said Lena.
“I needed to see you. I needed to know you’re safe.”
“Nightmares?”
“Worse,” said Kara. “It was so much worse.”
The agony in her voice shook Lena.
Forcing herself to composure, she poured another three fingers of single malt and flipped into her chair, extending neither drink nor invitation to Kara. The drink was a bad idea. It was dangerous. The smokey, hazy heat of it burned the soft bitter taste of regret from her teeth. Lena didn’t look at her.
“It was the imp.”
“Excuse me?”
“It calls itself Mxy. It says it’s from the fifth dimension but I have no idea if that’s true or not. All I know is that it has vast powers, even godlike. The last time it… it tried to force me to marry it.”
Lena knew what darkness in her birthed the hot rage in her gut, the possessive jealous fury that welled within her at those worse. This thing, how dare he.
She took a drink.
“It… he came to me tonight and said he wanted to make amends. He offered to let me change the past. I could fix whatever I wanted.”
“Hmm. Must have been a trick,” said Lena. “Let me guess, restoring Krypton had some ironic Twilight Zone twist.”
Kara blanched, blinking. “No, I… I didn’t even think of that. I asked him to help me fix us.”
There is no us, Lena began to say, but the words died on her tongue. She washed the taste away.
Something in her twisted, a cold shiver like a water dumped over her head. She knew Kara’s bullshit super senses would pick up on it and steeled herself.
Rubbing her arms, Kara paced.
“I tried telling you at different times, so you’d hear it from me and not Lex or someone else.”
“What happened?” Lena said, trying to look more interested in her whisky than the answer.
It was purely an intellectual curiosity, she told herself.
“You died,” Kara said, blunt. “You died every time.”
“How?”
Every which way. Reign killed you five or six times. Mercy blew your brains out all over my chest. Lex… Lex could be creative. Poison, blades, fire once. He was fond of sadistic choices and clever tortures. Say, use red wavelengths to negate my powers and set up a sadistic challenge I could never pass, that sort of thing. It got so bad I stupidly wished I’d never met you.”
Her voice was ragged, breathing uneven. Fresh tears glittered on her cheeks and Lena felt herself lunge, start to stand. Kara’s pain called out to something in her, something beyond the physical or even the emotional. It was like something in Lena’s soul yearned to stop that terrible pain.
“The worst was when you drowned. Almost.”
Lena looked away, swirled her drink.
“Sounds like you kept trying.”
“I did. The timeline where we never met was one of the worst. I wasn’t there when your chopper crashed. Your mother… you tried to kill me and I couldn’t even fight back.”
“Is this where we segue into the ‘I would never hurt you’ lecture?”
“No. I did hurt you. I deserve your hate. If someone else did to you what I did, I’d snap their neck.”
Lena flinched. There was something cold in that admission, something brutal and beyond even Supergirl. Raw.
None of her rules matter for me.
A tiny voice in that darkness whispered to her: And if some poor bastard locked her in a Kryptonite cage the way you did, they’d be begging you for death. They’d know you’re a Luthor.
Lena shuddered.
“What do you do?”
“I kept trying. I thought… I felt… I had to keep trying.”
“Well, you gave up and came here eventually. You…”
Kara swallowed hard. “It thought it worked, finally. I picked the night I reached you from Corben. Remember that?”
“I remember,” Lena said, hesitant.
Kara Danvers believes in you.
“I told you when you asked me why I saved you. I took you home, made sure you were safe. Life went on. These… these timelines or whatever they were, Lena, they were real. I lived them. That one was, it was…”
“What?”
“A few days later after things calmed down we went to lunch. We were just chatting about something unimportant and you looked at me and our eyes met and it was like…”
Kara looked away from her, wrapping her arms around herself the way she did, not a smug Supergirl pose but a woman shielding her heart from the world that clawed at it.
“When I first arrived on Earth there was a night where my powers had just kicked in and I looked at the sky. I could see more than stars. There was an aurora that was invisible to humans. I could see invisible lines of energy crackling between the stars, the cosmic background radiation shimmering on the dark. Can you imagine that? I can see the remnants of the Big Bang when I stargaze.”
Lena’s had trembled, the dregs of her booze shaking in the bottom of the glass.
“It was like that,” said Kara. “I knew I’d never be the same. I was staring at you like a big goof and you just stopped talking and stared back. I blurted out ‘is this a date?’”
Lena clutched the glass so she wouldn’t drop it and forced the tears back with all her might, but she was weak. Always weak.
“I take it I said yes,” she managed to say, voice quivering.
“We got married three years later. Lori was born a year after that.”
“Kara,” Lena began.
“Then it happened.”
“Kara, shut up.”
“Kalibak killed you. My sister. My little girl. My everything.”
Lena hurled the glass and Kara snatched it from the air in a superhuman blur. Lena was already on her feet, stabbing an accusing finger.
“So what?” Lena demanded. “We’re star-crossed lovers, now? Is this your ploy to fix it? Make me realize how in love we are? It’s a sick joke, Kara.”
“I know I can’t fix it,” said Kara. “I don’t want to.”
Lena blinked, her rage momentarily cooled. “What?”
“I would rather live in a world where you hate me as long as you’re still in it.”
“Kara,” Lena said.
“We are star-crossed. I don’t know want I did to deserve this but I can’t fix it. There was never a right time to tell you. It was doomed from the start. I’m here to tell you to let me go, Lena.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I know about Non Nocere. I know what you’re trying to do. I’m here to ask you to stop. Please. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin you life over me.”
“Why couldn’t you just save me and leave?” Lena demanded. “That’s what everyone else gets. A quick rescue and a wave and a wink and you’re gone. Why did you have to drag yourself through my life and wreck everything?”
“I tried that.”
Lena screamed, bellowed at the top of her lungs.
“So what? So fucking what, Kara?”
Kara just stood there.
“I don’t know. I just… I just had to see… all I want is for you to be safe.”
Lena turned away from her.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Kara choked out, behind her. “I did go back to Krypton one time. I told him I wanted to stay and die with my world, that it was the only way.”
“Let me guess, you did that and…”
“Car accident.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lena cried. “You have to be kidding me.”
“He made me watch. Not just you, everyone else that died because there was no Supergirl. I… I think I’m in Hell.”
Lena blinked. She turned slowly. A memory came flooding back to her from another time, a closed casket in a small Irish church with Lionel Luthor lurking, waiting for her with an entourage. She’d asked the priest in her precious child voice, am I in Hell, Father?
A sob forced itself out of her. She let herself look at Kara, standing there bedraggled and teary eyed in rumpled Hello Kitty pajamas and felt sick, like she’d swallowed a belly full of rancid oil. All she could see was the hurting, and she wondered if that was it, if this pain was the source of the unbreakable quantum entanglement that had dragged this alien being across a gulf of stars to fuck up her life.
Or save it.
“Kara,” Lena whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged you into my life.”
“I’m not,” Kara whispered. “It was a gift, every minute of it. I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything. Even the ones that didn’t happen.”
“What the hell do we do?” said Lena.
“I leave. I keep saving you. You find someone else, live your life, be happy. I do everything I can to keep you in this world and watch you grow old. That’s it. I should go.”
Kara turned and Lena screamed, balling her fists.
“Don’t you fucking dare leave this penthouse, Kara Danvers.”
Kara froze.
“I went back.”
“Went back to what?” said Kara.
“I went back to let you out of the Kryptonite cage. I couldn’t stop thinking of you lying on that cold floor in pain so I had to go back, but you weren’t there. I… I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I want to stop this but I just keep going and I don’t know what to fucking do anymore. I’m so lost.”
Kara’s shoulders slumped.
“I would take it back if I could.”
Kara turned back to her.
“You don’t have to.”
Lena backed away, unable to look at her. Kara crossed the gap in seconds and tenderly rested her hands on Lena’s arms.
“I’m sorry. I mean it. I am truly sorry from the depths of my soul. I would fix this if I could.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” said Lena. “It makes my soul hurt, and I don’t believe in souls.”
Lena pulled her in, clinging to her as if she might disappear. Kara was tentative, testing with every movement.
God, they had a daughter. A child! Lena could imagine, almost see… what had she done?
“It’s going to be okay,” Kara said. “I think this is what I was supposed to learn.”
“What?”
“To own my mistakes, and if I don’t want you to be a villain, I shouldn’t treat you like one.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I should go home and let you rest. This is a lot, I know, and it’s late. I…”
Kara trailed off, and Lena looked up at her. Their eyes met, and Lena… knew.
“Will you come back?” said Lena.
“Always.”
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amarriageoftrueminds · 3 months ago
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Since it came up recently, link to that therapist on twitter 👆 who was discussing Bucky's terribile therapist in TFATWS and how they should’ve been. 
Transcript:
"As a therapist myself I've had a lot of feelings about Bucky's therapist on TFatWS, and have decided I need to rant a little to let it all out. I've worked w/active duty, trauma survivors, and court ordered clients, so here's some therapeutic conjecture on Bucky's therapy:
Aesthetically her office and presentation don't fit for someone who has been through the trauma that he’s been through. A client like this would need something non-threatening and safe- the whole vibe is overly formal and official in an office building, not at all therapeutic.
6 months working together she calls him Mr. Barnes and then James-he has identity issues and is struggling with who he is, so I think that one of the 1st things they would have done is figure out what he is comfortable being called, by whom and what that means for him.
He is still full out lying to her about pretty much everything including PTSD sx—I’m not saying clients never lie if they have good therapists, but if after 6 months he still doesn’t feel like he can be truthful at all then they haven’t built any trust/ solid therapeutic rapport
The pen and notebook thing-that’s clearly a trigger for him, there’s no reason to antagonize him and take notes in session like a punishment, it’s a power play on her part and it only emphasizes his lack of control in being forced into therapy (she should know his hx w/notebooks)
The whole little arm motion she made when she said “they need to make sure you don’t…” – that made so much light of what has happened to him, he probably feels like his arm is only good as a weapon and things like that will not help him accept it as part of his body
The rules, UGH the rules—from how they were talking about them clearly not something he actively created for himself, more like directives that he’s been ordered to adhere to—something fed to him and reinforced, feels like a way to sign off on liability only
THE AMENDS—this is probably my biggest issue. Amends are for people who need to take accountability for their actions and the repercussions of those choices. He had NO choice. He was a victim of horrific crimes against him, and framing it in a way that he needs to make up for
the crimes that others used him for is abhorrent. The lack of trauma informed care as astounding in the way it is being framed that he has to atone for sins that weren’t his. Its clearly reinforcing the idea in his head in ep 2 when he says “HYDRA were my people".
NO, HYDRA were your captors. They were not your people. That type of thinking needs to get deconstructed and challenged. He can dedicate himself to bringing good into the world and righting wrongs that happened WITHOUT taking on the responsibility of those actions.
Her whole attitude and demeanor were condescending and demeaning. I know some people have said “I love how she calls him out on his bullshit!” That’s not what I see happening. I call my clients out on their shit all the time—this was not that.
And I can only do that with clients ONCE we’ve built the type of relationship where it’s going to be therapeutic for them to hear it, and it’s done intentionally and with purpose. She just came off shaming and mean because they don’t seem to have any form of therapeutic rapport.
She said “you have no history, no family”- there is no therapeutic reason for that, and she’s wrong. He most likely has family alive (he used current tense when talking about his sister) and he was close to Shuri and TChalla, his history is vital to understanding him
When she said “Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back. You are being pardoned. These are good things. You’re free.”—Yeah this feels really dismissive and like toxic positivity. “I know you’ve been through a lot BUT BE HAPPY!!??”
He certainly doesn’t seem to feel like he’s free (especially having therapy mandated), and you can’t just tell someone they’re free. I felt like she was pretty much just like, “shake it off, look to the future!” which feels really shitty when you’ve experienced excessive trauma.
HELLO breach of confidentiality, just introducing herself to Sam as his therapist and confirming it to Walker and the whole police station, it doesn’t matter if they know he’s in therapy you do not break someone’s privacy like that, he still deserves some control over his tx.
Ordering Sam into a session, NO, he’s not your client and you don’t know him well enough to know if that’s appropriate or if it would be harmful to either, and you haven’t asked your client for his consent to have another person in his session
Forcing a trauma victim who was stripped of his bodily autonomy for 70 years into a physically intimate exercise with a coworker that he’s barely interacted with in the last several months? NOPE, just reinforcing to Bucky she has control over him the way his handlers used to
To me, I think she is more focused on signing off on his psychological eval that he isn't a liability rather than any actual healing or attention to his trauma. This unfortunately isn’t unusual in the military where “mental health treatment” is focused on being mission ready.
They are making sure he’s ready to be an “asset” w/ mandated therapy, which he shouldn’t even be forced to do as part of his pardon because he shouldn’t have needed a pardon at all because he was a victim of horrific war crimes, brainwashing, and dehumanization for 70 years.
I’m just saying, if that was me he would be on my big squishy couch, bright open windows, bowl of Hershey kisses, random fidget toys, and two therapy dogs laying all over him while we work through that trauma and he builds back his identity and finds the calm he wants so badly.
And yes he would probably need someone who would see through his BS, call him out when he needs it, not be overly "touchy feely", but only if he feels safe and there is trust, where he gets to work on what HE wants, not what others think he needs.
Anyway thanks for coming to my TEDTalk, I❤️my work and I think being a therapist on retainer for the Avengers would've been a fucking trip, they all needed a team of mental health professionals at their disposal 24/7 and things would've been so much better🤣
ps. They can be a good therapist and just not be a fit for the client, that happens regularly. We know when to make it part of the conversation and when to refer out. Nothing good is going to come out of a contemptuous therapeutic relationship, mandated or not.
pps. That whole situation and the scene with Zemo was so rough. I can't imagine how much it brought back the violation, humiliation, anger, and helplessness of when he was the WS. I'm just imagining him having a therapist he trusts and being able to process that afterwards 😭😭😭"
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slut4jeon · 1 month ago
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I’ll wait for your love (jjk)
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Pairing: babydaddy!jk x fm!reader
Sypnosis: co-parenting with Jungkook was easy until it wasn’t
“You cling to your papers and pens. Wait until you like me again. Wait for your love. Love, I'll wait for your love.”
Note: “We Can’t Be Friends” by Ariana Grande inspired me. This fic was also inspired by the original 1961 “The Parent Trap” for a certain scene.
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, mentioned drinking, angst, unprotected sex, etc
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Co-parenting with with Jungkook after your recent split needed better improvement in the future.
Since he worked in the early mornings he would take your daughter Eunbi to school. Passing by your house to pick her up. Such as today, when arriving to your home it wasn’t required for him to ring the doorbell or for you to get up and open the door for him.
You once lived together, there was a spare key kept underneath the welcome mat in front of your doorstep. He made way into your home seeing that you both were still asleep. Heading over to eunbi’s room to awaken the sleeping child up for school.
“Bug, it’s time to get up, you’ll be late for school.” awakening his child
“daddyyyy!”, the child excitingly mumbled as she awoke to see the presence of her father.
“Missed you bug, now go on now potty and brush your teeth while I go wake up mommy, m’kay?” Jungkook said while laying out eunbi’s clothes for today. It’s been snowing lately, so layers were needed.
“okay”, the child could only follow the instructions he father had given while rubbing her sleepy eyes.
Jungkook made way to your bedroom where he’d seen the sight of you softly in bed still in deep slumber. You looked so beautiful in tranquility. His gaze softened at your appearance.
The night of your split wasn’t expected. You had garnered up the courage to make apparent how you didn’t approve of him overworking. You understood as he was in the middle of forming his business meaning it required time. But you worked too, you had everything you’d wanted right with you. Til’ his absences led to rescheduled plans and no show dinners.
And that night he had returned late as usual you could no longer keep it to yourself. He had returned home clearly drunk and reeking of alcohol.
Jungkook had blabbered nonsense which led up to this coparenting arrangement. Blabbering some more while intoxicated, he had no filter in what he said which he sure was going to regret once sobered up. Like they always say ‘drunk thoughts are sober thoughts’.
He made you feel belittled as if you and your daughter were a burden to him, a nuisance. Almost as if his business was worth prioritizing more than his family.
“needed a break” or “get off my back” holding you little to no regard.
Jungkook could not live without you and once sober he realized the gravity of his mistake. There was no making amends to what he had caused.
Now you weren’t sure how long this punishment of pushing him away was going to last. Unsure, but just for as long as you deem suitable for the amount of unease he caused you that night.
You loved him equally as much but you kept it reserved unlike Jungkook. He demonstrated in many ways him making up of his actions and words. By always being there when calling upon him, bringing you takeout when you’re too lazy to cook something for dinner, bringing you pads and any other necessities to make your cramps lessen and ease away.
So when jungkook stared at you in adoration at your peaceful figure he felt his heart swell. He inches closer to you siting on the edge of your bedside while leaning forward to caress your hair.
“Sweetheart, it’s 6:47am eunbi’s almost ready she has yet to eat” he said in attempt at awaking you to fix your daughter’s breakfast like you normally do every mornings.
“Too tired…” you lightly mumbled as you turned in sleep and hugging the covers.
“Is that so? Too tired? I can take care of her breakfast sweetheart, you just stay in bed”, jungkook said as he fondly looked at you and landed a peck on your cheek.
As he stood up from the bed about to leave the room your hand met his wrist stopping him. “Jungkook, thank you”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart”, then he was off.
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Jungkook had just arrived back home after work. Coming back to a silent home like every other day since your split.
The emptiness, the lights were off, the heater was off, it was disturbingly clean. He didn’t like to return home to this.
He had showered and rid himself of his usual suit and tie, about to prepare himself dinner til the sound of his phone ringing broke his focus.
It was strange to recieve a call as late as 8:40pm if it was not regarding eunbi, she slept at 8:00, so what could you have been calling him about?
“what’s up yn? Is there something wrong? Is Eunbi okay?” He voiced concerned
“No, there’s nothing wrong with eunbi, I actually let her stay with my parents today”
“Oh…” there was a moment of silence
“Hey Jungkook?” You said on your side of the call
“Mhm?” responding
“Could you come over? Please?”
He raced on over to your place then after.
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Shutting the door to prevent the chilly air due to the snow enter your home, jungkook makes way.
The heater was on, it smelled of fall due to the scented candles you kept in certain places, the lights were on, family pictures hung on the walls, Eunbi’s toys scattered on the carpet. This was what home is. The nostalgia running back to him. Endearingly gazing upon the area, how he missed this sight.
Drastic difference of how life at his home was currently like.
“Hey sweetheart, it smells good in here. What ya’ making?” removing his padded jacket, scarf and gloves. Taking in the aroma of what you were currently cooking.
“Steak and roasted asparagus, sit down. Are you hungry?”
“I’m famished” jungkook truly was, upon your incoming phone call he had just gotten off work and hadn’t had the time to eat dinner yet.
“Sit yourself down then, I’ll set your plate”
He missed domestic moments like these. Overall any quality moments where it was just the two of you shutting out any thoughts of crossed boundaries.
“I’ll get us some glasses to drink our wine, give me a sec” you voiced
Jungkook’s eyes followed your figure as you had your back facing him stepping foot onto the stool, reaching for the wine glasses kept in the cupboard with tippy toes. He drank in your appearance, how angelic you looked in your simple slip dress and shawl. Even though you dressed comfortably for home you were indeed breathtaking.
Setting the glasses onto the dining table while jungkook popped the cork of the wine and poured the liquid into both glasses, with that the table was set.
Digging into the home cooked meal with wine Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you in admiration. You catching onto his pupil enlarged stare made a questioning eye contact with him.
“oh yn, you’re so beautiful” puppy eyed jungkook muttered
Sarcastically scoffing at his compliment. You were never one for compliments, never knowing how to acknowledge them or return them.
“Oh please, jungkook” trying to steer away from the conversation knowing you’d get emotional, jungkook continued.
“I mean it yn…I know I don’t say things like you wanna hear them and I know I’ve acted like a complete asshole too but I have to get it off my chest when I say I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately…and us, and the way things used to be.”
You felt irritation in your eyes and lip quivering, your waterline beginning to dampen hearing Jungkook’s heartfelt statement.
Not wanting him to see you break down you turn your head away. Using your soft hair to your advantage hiding away your face.
Jungkook took note of your exterior breaking down, hearing your resisted sniffling, extending his hand reaching for yours.
“I miss it all, especially the silliest things” getting up from his seat heading over to your side where you remained seated, he crouched while placing his hand on your thigh.
Upon hearing that, curious you turned your head towards jungkook where he took in your rosy tinted wet cheeks by your fallen tears and glistening eyes.
“What silly things?”, curiously asking
“I miss your bra’s you’d leave hanging on the doorknob of the restroom, I miss how you’d store my tools with your sewing supplies together, I miss my razor being dull because you’d use it to shave your legs with, I don’t like having a closet all to myself, and y’know it’s no fun swearing because you’re not there to make believe you’re shocked by it.”
“Nothings any good with you yn, I miss a lot of things.”
Gathering the courage to speak you finally voiced out, “why’d you take so long to say these things Jungkook?”
“I guess it’s because I was kinda hoping you’d come back to me upon your own will, I know I messed it all up for us. I wanted it to be up to you to decide whether you’d forgive me. I was just scared that you’d get irritated by me and never want me again…” with that Jungkook began struggling to voice his words, eyes brimming with tears as well.
No words had to be exchanged. You knew with all certainty you could not live without this man.
Pulling him into a desperate kiss, connecting both lips together he hugged your smaller frame, “oh Jungkook, I can’t take this anymore”.
Wrapping his arms around your waist while having one hand then reach towards your nape to push both lips in closer proximity, “Then don’t, I want this as much as you do, sweetheart.”
Eagerly responding the intimate kiss jungkook could not grasp the reality of this, feeling that at any moment he’d awaken from a dream.
“mmhpm, fuck…missed this, missed you”
His lips trailed onto your neck. Smothering wet kisses and bruises all around. Your manicured hands trailed to his neck followed to his hair where you gripped the roots as he continued to abuse and litter purplish marks on your neck.
“mhff gguk…need you so bad”, you panted
“Need you just as bad, baby. Waited like a horny dog for this moment.”
“gguk?”
“Yea, baby?”
“Need your cock in me…”
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants.”
Leading Jungkook to your bedroom where you laid on your elbows to watch Jungkook as he undressed. Removing his hoodie head first then getting rid of his shirt after leaving you with a view of his sculpted upper body and a bitten lip.
From the athlete of sculpted greek god abs to the happy trail and waistband of his Calvin Klein briefs. Your eyes trailed over every tensed muscle to inked sleeve catching the tattoo he’d gotten of your initials in cursive many years ago.
You couldn’t resist the temptation the beef cake standing in front of you. Adoring his abs with wet kisses leading up to pecks where your wet muscle teased his nipple.
He couldn’t resist himself either. How you looked under him had the tip of his cock leaking of precum.
Your slip had been sliding off your shoulders. Dangerously almost exposing your full breasts to him. He’d noted how hardened your nipples were as they poked through the thin fabric.
“God, yn… I need to have you now.”
“What are you waiting for? Get to it then.”
He missed this bratty side of yours. The sharp tongue that’d always have you ass up on his lap.
“Keep doing that nd I’ll find other ways to use that mouth of yours.”
You had missed this side of jungkook just as much. His domineering aura had you coating your panties in wetness. He was naturally a softie at heart but when it came to tussling in the bedsheets he was somethjng different.
It’s been months since you last had dick. Whenever you were ovulating it been hard to suppress yourself whenever jungkook was present. He had made it hard especially cause for some damn reason he always looked good. That angered you more.
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“Oh fuck! Gguk!” He had you on all fours as he thrusted balls deep into you at a relentless speed.
“S’ too good, baby. Fucking hell, cunt’s too tight. Been neglecting this pussy. Real clear it misses me.” Jungkook said in ragged pants.
Eyes remaining on the way his hips slammed against your plump ass, recoiling at the movement.
“Fuck ggukie, don’t stop…mhhff jus like that..” your head facing toward his direction. You looked like a goddess to him. The way he was taking you from behind to the way your face carried a pleasurable expression with frowned brows and strands of hair falling.
“Didn’t think of it, baby. Let go for me hun, coat this dick.”
“mm..yes! Oh fuck!” You yelped as he lifted your body against his sculpted chest. This angle creating more ecstasy to your arriving orgasm.
Face close proximity to yours where he hid his face in your neck lathering it in bruises. Inching closer to your ear lightly nibbling on the edge of your ear.
“Shit, baby… never get enough of you. Missed having you in my bed like this all for me.”
His words had you on the edge. Hips meeting his own in greed of chasing your high.
He felt your walls clenching upon his length. As well as his own high coming as well.
“Oh fuck.. where do you want me, hun?”
“Inside please, want it inside.” You were quick to respond.
Final thrust and both came in unison. Jungkook rode both highs out as he slowly thrusted. Sliding his now softened dick out of your cum filled cunt.
Arms now wrapping around your figure, both laying in each other’s embrace.
“Love you, baby.”
“I love you more.”
end
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cressidagrey · 5 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️
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Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.
That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.
Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.
Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.
Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.
Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…
And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…
He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.
Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 
It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.
Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.
As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 
Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 
So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 
It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 
Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 
“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“
She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.
Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.
"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 
The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.
Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.
The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.
Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.
She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.
He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.
Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.
"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.
Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.
Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.
Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.
"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.
Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .
"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.
Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.
Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.
Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"
Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.
Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 
"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*
"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.
"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.
Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"
Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."
"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?
Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.
Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."
Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.
"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"
"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."
Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"
"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"
Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."
Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."
Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.
"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.
The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .
"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."
Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren . 
"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.
"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.
Rhysand could just stare.
Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.
"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.
"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.
Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."
Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.
"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."
"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"
Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 
He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."
"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.
Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."
"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."
Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."
" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"
Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.
"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."
Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.
"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.
Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.
"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.
Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."
Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."
Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."
Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."
Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."
"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.
Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.
Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.
Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.
Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.
Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.
“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”
Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.
"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."
Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered
Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.
"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."
"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.
Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.
Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.
“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.
Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”
Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.
As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.
Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.
"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."
Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...
It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.
Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.
And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.
The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.
As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.
***
"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 
She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.
He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 
Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.
"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.
"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.
"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."
Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.
"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."
Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."
But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...
"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.
"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.
"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."
Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.
"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.
They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.
*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.
The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…
*Thank you for finding her.*
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strawberryjamsara · 8 days ago
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It’s the way Jinx almost had everything repaired. She had her sister back, her father back, Caitlyn was at the very least willing to listen and make amends. It wasn’t perfect but she was finally able to fix what she loved instead of destroy it. And in a blink, it’s taken away from her. Isha dies and she did so using the weapon Jinx showed her how to use. Once again, her belief that she brings awfulness and death to everyone around her is assured. I’m gonna blow up.
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nebulaafterdark · 4 months ago
Text
Chérie
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader x OC
Summary: Aegon’s wife accompanies him to the pleasure house and returns with a new lady in waiting.
18+ ONLY, MDNI Targcest, Smut, Threesome
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“Might I go with you to the pleasure house?”
“I will not go this night.” Aegon assures her, “I will stay with you, my darling.”
“I…wish to see what it is you do there.” Y/N forces the words out.
Aegon grins, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “If we share this, we share everything. I will have nothing left, in the absence of you.”
“Then you mustn’t be in my absence.” Y/N presses a kiss to his lips. “I want you all of the time.”
Aegon sighs, “spoiled thing.”
“Take me,” Y/N challenges.
“Very well.” Aegon keeps tight hold of her hand as they sneak out of the castle to the streets of silk. Weaving through the smallfolk as they carry on happily.
He looks back at his wife, taking it all in. Mayhaps you too long for a simpler life.
Y/N tucks herself against his side as they enter the pleasure house.
Aegon whispers. “They will not bite unless you ask them too.”
Y/N huffs a laugh, “might I have some wine?”
“Of course, darling girl. They will bring it to our room.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” Aegon nods. “Anything you want.” He pulls back the second to last curtain, revealing a woman with long dark waves. Her back to them, wearing only a purple satin robe. “Chérie.”
She turns to face them, the loveliest woman Y/N has ever seen. “My prince.”
“Might I introduce you to my darling wife-”
“Princess,” the woman bows her head. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Y/N smiles, “you as well. I can see what keeps my husband coming back. You are very beautiful.”
Chérie cocks her head to the side, “I am sought after for our likeness. You are beautiful, your grace.”
Y/N does not believe her, “you are very kind. Might I have a glass of your wine?”
“As much as you’d like, Princess. What’s mine is yours.” Chérie moves away from the table, toward the center of the room.
Aegon watches as his wife pours herself a cup. “She’s never fucked a woman.”
“We’ve all been there, have we not?” Chérie bumps his shoulder with her own.
“Too right you are.”
“Tell me, my prince, does she taste as good as she looks?”
“Better.” Aegon beams.
Y/N chugs down the wine, turning to Chérie. “Now what?”
“Whatever you’d like, your grace.”
Y/N beckons the other woman closer. Cupping Chérie’s face in her hands and pressing their lips together, testing the waters.
Chérie draws the princess in closer, burying her hands in dark waves, similar to her own.
“May I touch you?” Y/N murmurs against her lips.
“Yes, princess.”
“Call me by my name.”
“Yes, Y/N.”
Aegon makes himself comfortable at the foot of the bed, enjoying the show.
Y/N tugs playfully at the closure of Chérie’s robe, allowing it to fall open and onto the ground. Trailing kisses down her neck and collarbones to her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her hands, before taking the left peak in her mouth.
Chérie’s head falls back. “Might I help you with your dress, Princess? Y/N.” She amends.
“Please,” Y/N nods, turning away from her, allowing nimble fingers to unlace her gown. She’s never been nude with anyone but Aegon, the maesters, or her maids.
Chérie lies open mouthed kisses along her shoulders, feeling her shiver. Gently she comes around to face her. “Would you like more wine?”
“No,” Y/N blinks at her. It is irrational, to fear being perceived by someone who does not love her.
Chérie brushes her lips over Y/N’s, “you are lovely.”
“Best of luck trying to convince her.” Aegon remarks. “She’s grown deaf to my opinion on the matter.”
Y/N looks over Chérie shoulder to her husband. “Why is it you’re still dressed?”
“Because no one has been kind enough to undress me,” Aegon chuckles.
“Come,” Y/N holds a hand out to him. “I will do it.”
Chérie perches herself on the bed, allowing them to carry on. Whispering and giggling as Y/N works Aegon free of his robes.
Y/N trains her gaze on the woman upon the mattress, head cradled against her husband’s shoulder. “I’d like to taste her.”
“Fine by me, my love. This night is for you.”
“May I?” The Princess asks Chérie.
“So long as you’ll let me return the favor.” Chérie replies.
“Aegon,” Y/N calls, sweetly. Dropping to her knees at the bed’s end. “Will you help me?”
He comes to kneel beside her. “There’s no reason to be nervous, my dearest love.” Aegon brushes dark waves from her face and over her shoulders as Chérie lies back; allowing her legs to fall apart. “See how wet she is for you?”
“Yes.”
“Put your pretty mouth just there and show her what you like.” Aegon coos, “then take these fingers,” he moves for her dominant hand, kissing her index and middle digits. “Find the spongy part of her cunt and stroke upward.”
Y/N imitates the motion. “Like this?”
Aegon runs his knuckles over her cheek, “just like that.”
Y/N nods, kissing him one last time before diving in. The woman above her squeals in delight as the princess licks a firm stripe up her slit.
“Good girl,” Aegon murmurs.
Chérie’s hands find Y/N’s hair, massaging her scalp, moaning in earnest as the princess slips a finger inside, then a second. “That feels wonderful, Y/N.”
She tastes of honey and rose water. Y/N understands then, how Aegon could spent hours with his head between her own thighs.
“You should fuck her,” Chérie says to Aegon. “With your cock, or your tongue.” Do something for the divine creature bringing her to the high heavens.
“I would love to fuck her, but I’d hate to distract her when she is doing such a fine job.” Aegon passes a hand over his wife’s hair. “Could you take me in your mouth?”
“Of course, your grace.” Chérie licks her lips, slacking her jaw to accommodate his length. She sucks him with vigor, vocalizing her appreciation for the Princess’s work around his cock. Her peak is met swiftly, as is Aegon’s.
Y/N leans away from her cunt with a triumphant grin. “How was it?”
Chérie’s right arm is slung over her eyes. “Heavenly. Now get up here so I might repay you.”
“My darling wife does like to squirm.” Aegon warns, situating Y/N between his legs with one of hers over each of his, leaving no part of her to the imagination. “I will keep her still for you.”
Y/N sighs, clutching at his forearms.
“Even your cunt is beautiful, your grace.” Chérie slides one finger into her warmth, pumping slowly as her mouth meets her slick.
“Thank you.” Y/N clunks her head back against Aegon’s shoulder. He is right after all, she does like to squirm. The inability to do so is dizzying, especially as Chérie adds a second finger; stroking slow and deep against the sweet spot within her.
“How is that, Princess?” Chérie murmurs.
“Good,” Y/N gasps, writhing as best she can in Aegon’s hold.
“Poor thing, there’s nowhere to go, is there?” Aegon nuzzles the side of her face.
Y/N shifts again, “fuck.” One of her hand reaches back to fist in his hair as the other snakes down to the woman lapping at her.
Chérie hums, taking the princess’s pearl into her mouth and flicking over it with her tongue.
“Please,” Y/N cries, to her or to him. Whoever will listen. The pleasure so blinding it hurts. “Please, please.”
“Please what, my heart?” Aegon chuckles, “use your words.”
Y/N tries again, tears falling over her cheeks. “Please.”
Aegon feels the tense of her muscles, the shortness of her breath, the sound of her cries. “Come undone for us, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” He tightens his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her face to gentle her.
Her peak is white hot, Y/N swears she meets the gods as she crests it.
“Good girl.”
She’s vaguely aware of Aegon’s fingers in her hair as the mattress dips and Chérie sits beside them.
“Sweeter than any wine.”
Aegon reels Chérie in for a kiss, licking into her mouth, tasting his wife on her lips. “She is a delicacy.”
“Indeed.”
When Y/N is lucid enough, she lulls her head to the side, watching intently.
“Are you back with us, darling girl?”
She nods.
Chérie smirks, cupping Y/N’s cheek, kissing her once, then back to Aegon. Taking turns between them, until the Prince’s cock is aching and the Princess is dripping onto the sheets.
“I need to be inside you.” Aegon whispers to his wife, who nods, enthusiastically. He lies back, with Y/N still resting on his chest. “Turn around for me.”
She does as she’s told, straddling his hips and pushing up on her knees.
Chérie is up near Aegon’s pillow, plush bottom lip caught between her teeth as she Princess takes her husband’s length in hand, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down.
Y/N’s pretty mouth hangs out, gasping in tandem with Aegon’s groan.
“Good girl, taking me like you were born for it.”
“I love you.”
Aegon’s expression softens, “as I love you.”
“May I do something for you?” The Princess would hate for their guest to feel cast aside.
“No, but I can.” Aegon grins, “hop up here, on my face.”
Chérie laughs, “you are very kind, your grace.” She hovers over his face for a moment, turned towards his lovely bride.
“Get down here, you awful thing.” Aegon huffs, pulling her cunt down to his waiting mouth.
“Fuck,” Chérie cries.
Aegon grants her no reprieve, lapping at her slick until it coats his face. Free hand squeezing his wife’s hip as she moves over his cock.
Chérie sighs, leaning forward to catch her kiss swollen lips. Swallowing the Princess’s cries and replacing them with her own.
Y/N cups the other woman’s breasts, teasing her nipples with the palm of her hands.
Chérie bucks against Aegon’s tongue, earning her a little love tap from the prince.
“Be good.” He murmurs against her cunt, “or I will stop.”
“Forgive me, your grace.” Chérie pants. “Your wife is so lovely.”
Aegon hums against her, in agreement.
“You are lovely,” Y/N breathes, fucking Aegon faster; harder as the pads of his fingers press into her flesh. “He’s always asking to put his mouth on me, that way.” She motions to Chérie, perched over Aegon’s face as he feasts on her. “Is it nice? Perhaps I should indulge him.”
“It is very nice, your grace.” Chérie leans forward, sucking one of the princess’s nipples into her mouth. “If your husband wants for nothing but your cunt in his face, know that you are well loved. You should very much indulge him, the both of you will be grateful.”
Y/N releases out a high pitched whimper as Aegon thrusts up to meet her, bending his knees for leverage.
She clenches around him like mad, Aegon himself on the precipice of bliss. With the telltale fluttering of his wife’s peak, he redoubles his efforts on Chérie. She comes undone on his tongue.
Y/N continues rocking against him, the warmth of his spend filling her. When she has milked him dry, she rolls off, collapsing onto the mattress. Catching a glimpse of Aegon’s grin as Chérie moves from his face.
It takes only a moment with the Princess resting against his chest for the Prince to find sleep, releasing an ungodly snore.
“Well then,” Y/N laughs, “I hope you don’t mind if we stay a while.”
“As long as you’d like.” Chérie stares up at the ceiling.
“Do you enjoy your work here?”
The woman smirks, “I enjoy you very much, Princess.”
“But…on a whole, do you?”
“The coin is good and the hours are short.“ Chérie lifts a shoulder.
“What did you want to be?” Y/N wonders.
“Your grace?”
“Before you began working here, what did you want to be?”
Chérie sighs, reaching across Aegon to twist a bit of the princess’s hair around her finger. “I can’t recall. Though my mother always hoped I’d be a serving girl to a high born lady.”
“What happened to your mother?” Y/N asks, “if you don’t mind.”
“She has been gone for some years now, since before I was eight and ten. She caught a chill and never recovered.”
“I am very sorry.”
“Tis not your fault, Princess. It happens more often than you’d think.”
“You might be my lady,” Y/N offers, “in waiting.”
“Your grace?”
“If it pleases you.”
Aegon taglist: @niyahnotnia @oh-you-mean-me
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hotpinkstars · 8 months ago
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WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)
-> blinded mistakes - happy ending
synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?
a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm
warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!
w/c -> 951
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-> kamisato ayato
it’s been a few days since the argument. 
ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.
once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.
you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.
he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.
“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.
“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”
he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 
he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.
“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 
“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”
you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”
he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”
“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”
he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 
“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 
he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.
-> wriothesley
it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 
he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.
“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”
he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”
she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 
you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 
“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.
“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”
you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 
he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 
“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”
you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 
“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.
“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”
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rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago
Text
A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5
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Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader
Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.
A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.
I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)
2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)
Not proofread
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun
“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.
“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.
He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.
The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.
You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.
As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.
“Say bye dada” you tell V
“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch
Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.
╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮
Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.
Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.
“Hey.”
She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.
“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.
Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.
“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.
“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.
Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”
Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”
Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”
Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.
But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.
In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.
“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”
Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.
They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”
Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.
Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”
“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”
Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.
Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.
╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮
You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.
Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”
Startled, you ask, “What?”
“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”
“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”
“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.
“Of course, yes.”
Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.
“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.
Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.
“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.
“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”
“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.
“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”
Taglist-
@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals
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