#never the twins shall meet

[neverthetwinsshallmeet]

You know I don’t think I ever shared the meme I made about my personal distinction between Legends of Tomorrow Constantine and Hellblazer Constantine but I think it’s funny so here you go

[misswynters]

Let the World Burn

[SYNOPSIS: You and aegon have to beautiful twins, Aelora and Maeron. It takes a dark turn when you are ambushed while singing them a lullaby. You have gravely injured and the twins are no where to be seen. Aegon is furious.

[TAGS: kidnapping, pure angst, crying,

[a/n: abit rushed near the end sorry :/

The first light of dawn crept through the half-drawn curtains of your chambers, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. You stirred awake, the weight of sleep lifting from your eyes as you glanced around the familiar, cozy space. Beside you, Aegon Targaryen slept peacefully, his arm draped protectively over you.

It was a rare morning of quiet calm in the bustling capital, and you relished the tranquility. You carefully disentangled yourself from Aegon’s embrace and slid out of bed, not wanting to disturb his rest. You padded softly to the window, pulling aside the curtains to reveal the sprawling city below, bathed in the gentle morning light.

Aegon stirred at the sound, his eyes fluttering open. He stretched, his gaze immediately finding you by the window. A lazy, contented smile spread across his face as he watched you.

“Good morning, my love,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep but warm and affectionate.

You turned to face him, your heart swelling at the sight of his sleepy smile. “Good morning. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Aegon sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. “You could never wake me. The sight of you is my favorite way to start the day.”

You walked back to the bed, sitting beside him and resting your head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were comforting, making you feel safe and loved.

“I was thinking about how much has changed since we first met,” you murmured, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “How different everything is now.”

Aegon chuckled softly, his hand coming up to cradle your face. “Indeed. Back then, we were just two souls navigating the complexities of life and duty. Now, we have each other and our little ones.”

A soft knock at the door interrupted your quiet moment. Aegon looked up, his smile turning into a grin as he rose from the bed. You followed him to the door, and when it opened, a servant appeared, carrying a small bundle wrapped in a soft blanket.

“Your grace,” the servant said, bowing slightly. “The twins are awake and waiting for you.”

Aegon’s eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you. We’ll be right there.”

He turned to you, his expression a mixture of excitement and tenderness. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering with anticipation. Together, you made your way to the nursery, where the morning light filtered in through the windows, casting a warm, inviting glow.

The sight of Aelora and Maeron in their cradles brought a smile to your face. The twins, with their tiny hands and faces full of wonder, were the embodiment of love and hope. Aegon carefully lifted Aelora from her cradle, his movements gentle and practiced. He handed her to you, and you cradled her in your arms, feeling her tiny fingers curl around yours.

Aegon picked up Maeron, his face alight with a paternal pride that never failed to touch your heart. The sight of him holding his son with such care and affection was a reminder of the depth of his love for both you and your children.

“Look at them,” Aegon said softly, his voice filled with admiration. “They are everything we’ve ever dreamed of.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a shared understanding. “Yes, they are.”

The four of you settled into a cozy corner of the nursery, surrounded by the soft colors of the room and the gentle hum of the morning. Aegon sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders as you both took turns speaking softly to the twins, their eyes wide with curiosity as they listened to the soothing sounds of your voices.

“Do you think they know how much we love them?” you asked, looking up at Aegon.

He smiled, his gaze tender and thoughtful. “I believe they do. They feel it in every touch, every word, every glance.”

You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his love. “I’m grateful for every moment with you and our family.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head, his touch gentle and loving. “Me too. Every day with you and our children is a gift, and I cherish every second.”

As the morning sun continued to rise, casting its golden light over the nursery, you felt a profound sense of peace and happiness. With Aegon by your side and your children in your arms, everything will be alright. The warmth of the moment and the strength of your shared moments together made you feel as though you could conquer anything. In the soft embrace of the morning light, you knew that the greatest adventure was the one you were living every day—with Aegon and your precious twins.

The council chamber of the Red Keep was abuzz with the murmur of discussions as King Aegon Targaryen presided over the meeting. The large, oval table was surrounded by advisors, generals, and key figures of the realm, each discussing matters of state with a sense of urgency.

Aegon, in his regal attire, listened intently as a seasoned advisor detailed the latest developments in the kingdom. Despite the importance of the discussions, his mind kept drifting back to the nursery and the peaceful morning he had shared with you and the twins. The memory of Aelora’s soft cooing and Maeron’s playful gurgles was a balm to the relentless pressures of his duties.

Suddenly, the doors of the council chamber burst open, and a breathless messenger stormed in. His face was ashen, eyes wide with a mix of fear and urgency.

“Your Grace!” the messenger called out, struggling to catch his breath. “I have grave news.”

Aegon’s heart sank. The tension in the room shifted palpably as all eyes turned toward the messenger. Aegon’s expression hardened, a sense of dread settling over him.

“What is it?” Aegon demanded, his voice low but commanding.

The messenger hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Your grace, there has been an attack on the nursery. The twins… the twins have been taken.”

The words hit Aegon like a blow to the chest. His blood ran cold, and his mind raced with images of Aelora and Maeron in danger. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“What of ___?” Aegon asked, his voice strained. “Is the queen safe?”

The messenger’s face fell further. “The Queen… she was injured in the attack. She is being tended to by the maesters, but her condition is grave.”

Aegon’s world seemed to collapse in that moment. The thought of you, hurt and in pain, was unbearable. He could hardly process the fear and anger boiling within him. His heart ached with a profound sense of helplessness.

Without another word, Aegon turned on his heel and stormed out of the council chamber. The corridors of the Red Keep seemed to blur past him as he raced toward the royal quarters. The sounds of his hurried footsteps echoed off the stone walls, each step fueled by a fierce determination to find you and his children.

When he reached the nursery, the sight that met him was a nightmare come to life. The once serene room was now a scene of chaos, with broken furniture and scattered toys marking the violent intrusion. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and fear.

Aegon’s heart pounded in his chest as he pushed open the door to your chambers. The room was dimly lit, and you lay in bed, a pale and motionless figure amidst a flurry of concerned maesters and attendants. Your face was pale, and bandages were wrapped around your head and limbs.

Aegon’s breath caught in his throat as he approached your bedside. He knelt beside you, his hand gently brushing against your face. The warmth of your skin was reassuring, but the sight of your injuries left him feeling as though the ground beneath him had been ripped away.

“___,” he whispered, his voice trembling with anguish. “Please, stay with me.”

One of the maesters, a stern-faced man with a practiced demeanor, stepped forward. “Your Grace, the Queen is stable for now, but her injuries are severe. She needs rest and continued care.”

Aegon nodded, though his eyes never left you. “And the twins? Have there been any developments?”

The maester shook his head solemnly. “We are still trying to ascertain their whereabouts. The city is being searched, but it will take time.”

Aegon’s heart hardened with resolve. He stood up, his face set with grim determination. “I will find them. I swear it.”

With that, Aegon left your side, his mind focused solely on the task ahead. He gathered a group of trusted guards and emissaries, quickly briefing them on the situation. His commands were clear and unwavering: find the twins, bring them back safely, and bring those responsible to justice.

As he prepared to set out, he took one last look back at you, lying so still and vulnerable. A surge of fierce love and protectiveness surged through him. He would not rest until his family was safe and whole again.

The search for the twins began with urgency, every resource at Aegon’s disposal devoted to the task. He knew that each moment counted and that his determination would be tested like never before. But with the strength of his love for you and his children driving him forward, he would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The battle for his family had only just begun, and Aegon Targaryen was prepared to fight with every ounce of his being. The flame of his resolve burned as brightly as ever, and he would not be swayed until the twins were back in his arms and you were safe once more.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @spn-obession @beebeechaos @staarflowerr @veroneverleft

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[sapphire-writes]

Pretty Little Thing

summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, hand over mouth, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge

word count: 7.2k

note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

—

Be there soon.

Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful she’d be making an appearance at all.

You hadn’t even wanted to come. It’d been her idea and now she was blowing you off.

“We’re just exchanging the last of our things,” she’d promised on the phone several hours earlier, “You go on without me and I’ll meet you there.”

Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.

Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since you’d known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasn’t going to go as you’d hoped. 

You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come.

An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits. 

They’d long graduated from King’s Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom you’d been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didn’t see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.

That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes. 

You’re not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. She’s part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in. 

“Darling!” she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“You wore it!” she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan you’d chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though you’d begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.

Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelle’s Polly Pocket.

“She pulls you out of her pocket and plays dress up. It’s fucking weird,” she’d said. 

Cerelle’s lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.

“Stop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,” she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Have some fun! It’s winter break!”

Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown. 

“You haven’t had enough to drink,” she insists, reaching for another glass, “You’re much too antsy.”

“Alysanne was supposed to be here,” you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat. 

“Fashionably late as always, I suppose,” Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, “There are lots of fascinating characters here who’ll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?”

“Hilarious,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“I never joke about a good shag,” Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, “From the looks of it you could use it.” She turns back to you, matching your pout. “Don’t frown, you look too lovely.” She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

“Much better,” she praises as you hold the smile she’s decorated your face with, “Come on let's find you someone…don’t look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, that’s all. A bit of harmless fun.” 

You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelle’s hand away.

“There’s no one here I want to flirt with,” you insist, following her gaze around the room, “Let alone shag.”

“You’re too picky,” she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, “What about Greyjoy?”

A shiver rolls through you, “No thank you.”

“Heard he’s good in the sack.”

You’d heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.

“You need someone,” Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, “You haven’t been with anyone since—what was it again?”

His face flashes through your mind before you can help it. 

“Unimportant,” you quip, “Cerelle, I just want to—” Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.

“You invited them?” you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.

“Not me. Jason must have,” she answers, “It’s not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.”

Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. You’re more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. He’s dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.

He never takes it off.

Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegon’s eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.

Aegon loves a good party.

Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment. 

Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious. 

“Anyway,” Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, “Back to you drinking. I’ll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.” 

—

You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape. 

“I’m going to get some air,” you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, “I’m not leaving, I swear!”

“You better not!” she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, “I’ll come to fetch you if you’re gone too long—you know I will.”

She’s telling the truth. 

“Five minutes,” you insist, forcing a smile.

Cerelle’s nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.

Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. It’s colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you. 

You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegor’s Holdfast. 

If you stay any longer, you’ll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. It’s always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids. 

The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head. 

Only it isn’t her.

Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.

He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“You were in my class,” he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, “History of The First Men, right?” 

You force your lips together. “Mhmm,” you answer, surprised he recognized you.

Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites. 

One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.

Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didn’t care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there. 

However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus. 

“You alright?” he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now,” you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh. 

Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Why’s that?”

“You’re sort of a banned topic at book club,” you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. “Because?”

“Maris runs it,” you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemond’s affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.

You’re not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of things—girl code. 

“Floris and I were never exclusive,” Aemond comments.

“Yikes.”

So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, you’re mostly sure he’s telling the truth. The story you’d heard was that he ghosted her. 

“She shouldn’t have assumed,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips. 

“Right, of course not, how dare she,” is your sarcastic reply. 

Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette. 

“You seem rather upset,” he accuses, “Funny, Floris never mentioned you.”

You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. “We’re not friends. It’s the principle of it all. I don’t like assholes.”

His perfect lips curl slightly. “I’m an asshole?”

“Mhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesn’t pretend he’s some suave guy doing nothing wrong.”

You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones. 

“It’s not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,” he counters.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. It’s warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers. 

There’s a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. You’re grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach. 

“So,” you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, “How do you know Cerelle?”

Aemond looks at you quizzically.

“How do I know Cerelle?”

You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“Family friend,” he answers, “Old money likes to stick together.”

You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you. 

“Surely you’ve heard of the Westerosi Seven?” he asks.

You haven’t.

“The what?” 

“The seven families,” Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, “Generational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.” He takes another drag.

“And you’re one of them?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

“My family, yes,” he answers, “And Cerelle’s. The Baratheon girls. Stark. They’re all quite close.”

“Interesting,” you tell him, glancing down the street again, “You sound like the mafia.”

Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut. 

The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out. 

“Darling! Come back inside you’ll catch your death,” she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you don’t miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, “Targaryen.”

“CeCe,” he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesn’t comment on Aemond’s choice. 

“Hope you’re being nice to my girl,” she says, the words clipped.

“Of course,” Aemond comments and you can’t help but feel like you aren’t there. 

Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more. 

“Come on, pet! In the kitchen.”

Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel. 

“Best run along,” he muses, not turning to face you, “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Annoyance prickles under your skin.

“She’s my friend—”

“You have got a very generous friend,” Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. “Myrish, isn’t it?”

You cross your hands over your chest. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, “I’d just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.” 

You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you don’t hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs. 

The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.

It’s something happening on the marble island, but you don’t see what—that is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse. 

She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelle’s lips, earning several cheers. 

As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter. 

“Good, you didn’t leave!” she says giggling, “It’s your turn.”

“My turn?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. 

“Mhmm,” she says, dragging you forward, “Up now!” 

“Cerelle, I don’t—”

“Hush! Qyle Martell is doing it,” she says biting her lip suggestively, “Let the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?”

Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyle’s warm brown eyes. 

“Your sweater,” he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila. 

You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didn’t leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.

Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.

“Oh,” you tell him, moving to unbutton it. 

Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. You’re the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms. 

Quite the sacrificial lamb you are. 

“Here, can I help?” Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes. 

“No—no I’ve got it—oh!”

You’d moved wrong, done something wrong—or perhaps someone pushed him you’re not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyle’s eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose. 

The room quiets momentarily until Cerelle’s bell-like laugh pierces through the silence. 

“Qyle you idiot,” Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, “You’re supposed to wait till she’s laying down—”

“It was an accident!”

“—and her sweater!” Cerelle growls in annoyance, “Go upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.”

You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home. 

—

Cerelle’s room lacks color and warmth. 

You’d spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly. 

Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelle’s closet—double doors—and open it. Expensive. Perfumed. You’ve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.

“Playing dress up?” a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door. 

You close the closet door. You’ll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.

“Well, I suppose that was a given,” you answer him, sitting down on the bed.

Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame. 

“D’you want to see how you’re supposed to do it?” he suddenly asks.

“Do what?” you question, tilting your head to the side. 

“What Qyle was going to do,” he answers, and you understand his meaning. 

Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. You’re not sure why he’s asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.

“Alright,” you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs. 

“Spread them,” he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as you’re told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. “Wider.” 

Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and you’re forced to look up at him.

“Lean back,” he instructs. You’re beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows. 

You’re much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.

He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he can’t feel how warm they’ve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.

“You’re to put salt here,” he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, “That’s first.” He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Though we’re without.”

You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.

“May I?” he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.

Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, “You’re quite sensitive.”

“It’s cold.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, “The liquor goes here.” His fingers ruin the pattern he’s created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, “Tequila.”

“We haven’t got any,” you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly. 

Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes. 

His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining. 

“That’s how it's supposed to be,” he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes. 

“There’s one more part,” you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.

“What’s that?” he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer. 

He just wants to hear you say it, you realize. 

Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers. 

“There was a lime,” you tell him, “The person….holds it in their mouth.”

Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until they’re pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own. 

“Have you got a lime on you?” he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.

“No,” you murmur, not knowing where to look. He’s so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.

He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.

“Pity,” he says, lips down turning into a pout.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. He’s so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesn’t make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs. 

Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what he’s doing.

Riiiip!

“Aemond!” you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, “These were a new pair!”

“I can buy you another,” he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, “Or perhaps CeCe can. You’re her favorite plaything, aren’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.

“Oh she doesn’t like that,” he says, clicking his tongue, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. You’re certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? A pretty little plaything.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly. 

“No shame in that,” he says, shaking his head, “I understand Cerelle, entirely.” His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemond’s eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. “I like pretty things as well.”

“So I’ve heard,” you quip as Aemond’s second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.

“Have you?” he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, “And what have you heard?”

“That you’re as insatiable as your brother,” you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, “You just hide it better.” 

Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button. 

Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you. 

Seven hells, how is anyone’s tongue long enough to do what Aemond’s is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.

“Oh gods—fuck—fuck!” you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. “Hells Aemond…”

His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.

You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell he’s smug at the effect he’s having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty. 

You’re a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted. 

His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away. 

Aemond’s tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you. 

His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you. 

You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you. 

Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.

“Stop, stop, please.”

“Alright…shhh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, “There you go, that’s a good girl. You did so well for me.”

You can’t help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you?” he murmurs between sticky kisses, “Hmm?”

“Aemond…” you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.

You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.

“What would Floris say?” he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. “I thought you said something earlier,” he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching. 

“I don’t—”

“Loyalty, I recall,” he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, “Something like that.”

“Aemond,” you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, “Aemond please.”

“You’re going to have to say it,” he insists, kissing your cheek, “Come on, say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, “Please Aemond—gods.” 

“They can’t hear you,” he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, “You’re all mine.”

You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands. 

“Go on then,” he says, “Take what you want.”

With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. He’s bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. 

His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemond’s hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, “Gods, you’re so lovely.”

Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. “Gods—”

“You can take it,” he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, “Come on baby, that’s it, just like that.”

Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.

“That feel good?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack. 

“There she goes,” he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, “Take what you need, gevie.”

A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears. 

Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal. 

“That’s it,” he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, “Just like that—there’s a good girl.” His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins. 

His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely they’ll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release. 

It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.

No other man has made you finish before.

“Are you close?” Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, “I know you are—can feel you clenching around me.”

Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemond’s hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemond’s hand remains where he’d spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, “With your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.”

“Yes,” you practically gasp, “Yes, Aemond I’m close—”

“And you want to cum, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, Aemond please—” the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you. 

Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. He’s careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours. 

His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before it’s stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemond’s hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more. 

“Shhh,” he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, “Hear that?” he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “Listen.”

His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what he’s asking. 

The music downstairs has died.

“Everyone’s going home,” he murmurs, through another kiss, “We’d best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.

“Keep quiet,” he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, “Can you do that?” He’s rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. “Thought not.”

So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “Cum for me again, just like that.” His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand. 

“There you go,” he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, “Squeezing me so fucking tight—fuck.” He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head. 

Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction. 

“We’ll have more time next time,” he whispers the promise against your cheek, “I want to explore what other pretty noises you make.” His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release. 

“I’m very curious,” he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. “And I��m very thorough.” A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it. 

Aemond’s hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. You’ll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but you’ll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing. 

Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.

“Just fucked out,” you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.

The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. “Wait here,” he orders, walking towards Cerelle’s bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.

“Thank you,” you tell him, face burning from his attention.

“No need for thanks,” he insists, “It’s the bare minimum.”

“For you maybe.”

Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense he’s not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze. 

Not tonight.

“Are you staying here?” he asks, standing when he’s done, handing you pieces of your clothes.

“I think I have to,” you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, “The last bus is long gone.”

Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.

“I’ll have my driver take you,” he says, unlocking his screen.

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s no trouble,” he insists, placing the phone against his ear, “Cole. Ten minutes. Thank you.” He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.

“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelle’s large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look. 

“Aemond,” you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear.”

Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites. 

Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Think of them as a gift,” he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.

His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye. 

There’s something new there. Almost possessive. 

His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

Outside, snow begins to fall.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Double The Cravings*

a/n: this was a request by @cicicavill7 (sorry i didn't post the entire ask it was too long 😭😭😭😭😭)

Summary: you're very pregnant, and harry has to go to a fundraiser. you don't feel like eating because of your growing body, feeling insecure but harry's always there to take care of his pretty pregnant girl.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: smut, fluff. mentions of pregnancy, insecurities. p in v sex, sex while pregnant, creampie, aftercare, kissing.

*

"You look absolutely stunning, darling." 

Harry's warm breath tickled the shell of your ear as his arms wound around your waist from behind. His large hands came to rest reverently on the swell of your pregnant belly, cradling the twins you were carrying. 

You bit your lip, smoothing the silky fabric of your dress down self-consciously. While you didn't doubt Harry's sincerity, it was getting harder to feel confident about your changing body lately. Your cravings had been intense and unrelenting, and you felt like you were gaining more weight than a typical pregnancy.

"You really think so?" you asked, unable to mask the uncertainty in your tone as you examined your reflection again. "I feel like this dress is getting a bit snug..."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned you to face him, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Of course I think so. Have you looked at yourself? You're glowing, Y/N. Absolutely radiant carrying our babies."  

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you right now, my pregnant little wife."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, ducking your head bashfully. It was getting more difficult to accept the compliments the further along you got. Your hormones were all over the place and you felt big and awkward rather than the radiant fertility goddess Harry seemed to see.

Sensing your reticence, Harry cupped your face in his large hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "I'm serious. You're so bloody gorgeous, Y/N, especially with this new lush, curvy figure of yours." His eyes burned with sincerity and...something darker as they raked over your body. "Gonna let me show you later just how much I appreciate these new assets?"

Despite your fluttering nerves, you felt desire curl low in your belly at the rumbling promise in his gravelly tone. Harry always had a way of making you feel utterly desirable and worshipped.

"If you insist," you murmured demurely, though you knew he could see the want simmering behind your eyes.

Harry groaned, ducking to capture your lips in a searing kiss. "Cheeky girl. You know I do." He punctuated his words with nibbling bites along your jaw. "Going to cherish every new inch of you, angel."

A fluttering in your stomach prevented you from getting too carried away. You placed a hand over Harry's where they still cradled your bump.

"Alright, alright, down boy," you giggled breathlessly. "We've got somewhere to be, remember? And these two are getting impatient."

Chuckling, Harry pressed one more smoldering kiss to the corner of your mouth before releasing you. "Fair point. Shall we, my pregnant goddess?"

With a wink, he offered his arm which you took with an eye roll and a fond smile. Despite your persisting insecurities, you felt reassured by his doting attention as you exited your bedroom.  

This fancy fundraiser gala had been on your schedule for months, a can't-miss event Harry had been looking forward to all year. You'd been nervous about going, worried people would judge your ever-expanding figure. But Harry had been adamant that you were going to shine like the stunning, fertile vision you were. Now you were just hoping you could make it through without any embarrassing incidents.

Your breath caught as soon as you stepped into the opulent ballroom of the posh venue, immediately feeling underdressed and frumpy next to the glamour of the high society crowd milling about. 

Harry, always in tune with your wavering confidence, leaned over to murmur in your ear. "Try to relax, love. You're the most beautiful woman in the room, and not a single person here holds a candle to you carrying my children."

You flushed at his ardent assurance, trying to calm your nerves as he led you toward the refreshments. Of course, not five minutes after arriving, the doubts began creeping back in. 

All of the hors d'oeuvres being offered were deliciously unhealthy, aromas of rich foods and sharp spices assaulting your sensitive, pregnant senses. Your mouth watered just looking at the arrays of canapes, bruschetta, sliders, and mini quiches laid out enticingly. 

But your hormonal self-consciousness quickly took over. You worried about stuffing your face and exploding right out of this tight dress, about people watching you pile food onto your plate and whispering behind your back. About looking sloppy and out of control.

So despite the intense cravings rumbling in your stomach, you shyly waved off the passing servers offering treats and settled for sipping some water and nibbling on a few breadsticks. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Harry frowning in concern, his brows drawing together as he watched you avoid most of the appetizers. But he didn't comment, simply squeezing your hand reassuringly and turning to engage in conversation with some donors.

As the evening wore on, your stomach was grumbling so loudly you feared passersby could hear it over the music and mingling voices. Your cravings were getting worse by the minute as you tried desperately to ignore mouthwatering aromas wafting all around. You pressed one palm against your belly, rubbing soothing circles as the babies kicked in protest.

"I know, I know," you whispered, feeling guilty already. You didn't want to deprive your little ones of anything, but the thought of stuffing yourself in front of all these judgemental rich folk had you paralyzed.  

You jumped slightly at the feeling of a large hand settling over yours on your bump.

"Everything okay?" Harry ducked his head close, green eyes full of concern as he searched your face. "You've hardly eaten anything all night. Are you feeling ill?"

You bit your lip, averting your gaze briefly as you weighed whether or not to open up to him. After a beat, you decided there was no sense in hiding it; Harry could always see right through you anyway.

"No, it's not that exactly. It's just..." You sighed, gesturing vaguely around the ballroom. "I feel so out of place here. Like everyone's judging me for how big I've gotten already. If I gorge myself on all the food I want, I'll probably tip right over."

A soft, sad look flashed across Harry's face. "Oh, my sweet girl." He pulled you gently into his arms, stroking a soothing hand down your back. "Is that why you've barely touched your plate tonight? Because you're self-conscious?"

You nodded against his chest, comforted by his solid warmth and the faint whiff of his cologne amidst the richer scents of the food. "I know it's ridiculous. I should be listening to my body's needs, not worrying about stupid societal expectations. But I just...I feel huge already, and my cravings have been so intense this pregnancy. I'm scared if I give in, especially to this rich food, I'll get even bigger and--"

"Y/N." Harry pulled back, cupping your cheeks to force you to meet his suddenly intense gaze, brow furrowed sternly. "You listen to me right now, alright? That's nonsense and I won't hear another word about it."

You swallowed thickly at the fierceness in his expression, heat pooling in your belly at the hint of that commanding "dad" tone you'd come to crave during your pregnancy.

"You are...stunning. Incredible," Harry breathed, his warm hands drifting down to splay reverently over your belly, like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're absolutely glowing, every inch of you fuller and softer and just...exquisite." 

His voice lowered to that rumbly timbre that could have you melting even at your horniest. "It's been a struggle to keep my hands off you as you fill out, love. Seeing you all lush and fertile like this..." He groaned softly, burning gaze raking over your body. "It's everything to me, and don't you dare deprive yourself or our babies with these silly hang ups."

You were panting softly by this point, squirming under his heated stare and the blunt weight of his words. Your arousal was a thick, heavy thing thrumming through your veins as Harry laid his desires out before you.

Harry's lips quirked in a heated, knowing smirk. He leaned in close, his plush mouth brushing the shell of your ear. "So I'm going to take you around this buffet...and pile both our plates high with anything and everything you've been craving, my insatiable girl."

A shudder rippled through you at the low, gravelly promise in his voice. Harry nipped at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back, satisfaction glinting in those emerald depths as he took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. He knew exactly how to unravel you.

"Then tonight, after we get home..." Harry's large hand drifted down to palm your lower belly, fingers splaying possessively. "I'm going to worship every new lush inch of you. Indulge my own cravings for this luxurious fertile body of yours."

You bit your lip on a small whimper, already aching for his touch. This man would be the absolute death of you.

Chuckling darkly, Harry slid his hand into yours and began leading you back towards the lavish buffet spread. Your cravings had reached a fever pitch between his heated words and the enticing aromas surrounding you. Hunger and arousal swirled dizzily within your core.

True to his promise, Harry loaded up two plates with every kind of indulgent treat - rich canapes dripping with cheese and pesto, crispy bacon-wrapped prawns, creamy mushroom vol-au-vents, and far too many miniature quiches and savory tarts to count. When you tried to protest the overflowing portions, he merely fixed you with a stern look until you subsided.

Finally, when not another morsel could be crammed on, Harry handed you your precarious tower of food with a soft smile.

"There we are, my perfect girl," he murmured, stroking a knuckle down your flushed cheek. "Now eat up for me, won't you? Gotta keep your strength up for later."

You swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry under the heated promise in those guileless green eyes. "Yes, Harry."

The next hour or so passed in a lush, sensual haze. You found a quiet corner to tuck yourselves into, allowing you to relax and satiate your fierce cravings under Harry's reverent, watchful gaze.

With each sinful bite, each savory indulgence on your tongue, you felt your nerves melting away, replaced by the most delicious anticipation. Especially when Harry's eyes would hungrily track the movement of your lips around each morsel, his large hands roaming possessively over the swell of your belly and newly full curves.

More than once, his deft fingers slipped a decadent bite past your lips, emerald gaze darkening in blatant lust each time you laved your tongue along the thick pads to clean away any lingering flavor.

By the time your second plate was nearly cleaned, a delicious lassitude had settled over your limbs. You were absolutely stuffed and sated, the fierce edge finally shorn off your hunger. You felt...content. Sexy, even, the way Harry's heated stare roved over your figure.

Sitting back with a small sound of satiation, you let your free hand drift down to caress your rounded belly. You could've sworn you felt the twins doing pleased little flips and kicks within, satisfied by your indulgence. You smiled tenderly, lifting your eyes to find Harry watching you with naked adoration glowing in his gaze.

"Look at you," he murmured reverently, using his thumb to gently wipe away a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth. "Positively radiant and plump, my gorgeous, well-fed queen."

Then, to your utter delight and arousal, he leaned over and pressed a lingering, openmouthed kiss to the swell of your stomach, humming in contentment. "We'll have to ensure we get you home soon...I have some urgent worshiping of my own to take care of."

By the time you finally tumbled through the door of your flat, lips swollen and gasping from the heated make-out session during the Uber ride, you were both achingly worked up.

No sooner had Harry kicked the door shut behind you than he was pressing you into the wall, large hands roaming greedily over your body. The sound of your muffled moan against his mouth only spurred him on, his grip tightening possessively on your hips.

When you finally parted, panting, his eyes were blown wide with sheer animal need. Harry wasted no time in shucking his jacket and tie, practically tearing apart the buttons of his shirt before moving on to divesting you of your clothes.

Your dress was peeled down over your curves and dropped unceremoniously to the floor in Harry's haste. Soon you were bare before him, the crisp air caressing your flushed, overheated skin and the delicious ache between your thighs.

Harry hissed out a breath, strong hands mapping the lush new terrain of your body with unbridled reverence. He swallowed hard enough for you to see his throat work convulsively.

"Fucking perfection," he grated roughly. His palms smoothed over the gentle swell of your belly, fingers splaying in wonder before sliding up to cup the full, sensitive weight of your tender breasts.

A strangled sound escaped your lips as he rolled the pebbled peaks between his fingertips, the jolt of sensation arrowing straight between your legs.

"Look at you, love," Harry crooned, nudging your thighs apart to slide one thick, muscular thigh between them. You cried out softly, canting your hips to ride the delicious friction provided by his leg. "All lush and fertile and utterly exquisite. Made to be lavished and cherished. To be devoured."

His mouth was on yours again, hot and wild and devouring you just as promised. You dimly felt him undoing his trousers, kicking them and his pants aside until he was finally as bare as you.

Then Harry was everywhere His huge hands spanned your back in a heated caress as his mouth mapped every new heavenly curve and swell of your body. His broad shoulders rippled between your splayed thighs, tongue swirling hotly over your peaked nipples until you were mewling. And still he paid reverence to your heavy, aching breasts and rounded belly, pressing fervent, worshipful kisses over every inch.

By the time the slick, insistent pressure of his cock nudged against your dripping entrance, you were already trembling all over, heat coiled impossibly tight in your core.

"Let me properly cherish you, my queen," Harry rumbled, the words a gravelly prayer as he slowly, achingly buried himself to the hilt within your welcoming heat. You both groaned in unison, your walls fluttering maddeningly around his thick length as he stretched and filled you completely.

That first slow drag nearly had you shattering right then and there. Each thick inch of Harry's cock glided along every perfectly swollen, sensitive inch of you as he thrust home, dragging against that sweetest spot inside over and over again.

His large hands cupped your ass, hips rolling in a torturously languid grind, burying himself deeper with every unhurried stroke. He was devouring you from the inside out, cherishing every silken inch, and the utter reverence in his gaze as he drank in your pleasure had you spiraling higher.

When one hand came up to cup the flushed, damp curve of your cheek, the tender intimacy of it nearly undid you.

"I love you," Harry breathed, mouth finding yours in a claiming, soul-deep kiss as his hips picked up their pace, driving into you with reckless abandon now. "All of you, every lush curve. My everything, my goddess, my gorgeous wife. Mine."

You were powerless against the tide of sensation and emotion Harry wrung from you, spiraling higher and quaking apart on a broken cry of his name. Your climax swamped you with blinding pleasure, pulling Harry right over that dizzying edge with you as your convulsive inner walls dragged him under.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck with a soul-deep groan, hips jerking erratically as he poured himself into you. You clung to him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to this world while wave after wave of bliss wracked your joined forms.

By the time the tremors finally began to ebb, you were both slumped bonelessly against the wall, sweaty and utterly spent. Harry shifted just enough to pull you more securely into his arms, face still buried in your neck as you both caught your breath.

Gradually, he began nuzzling soft, reverent kisses along the slope of your shoulder, across your collarbone, up the column of your neck. His large hands stroked soothingly over your back, your sides, cradling you close against his solid warmth.

"My everything," Harry murmured, the words a hushed vow against your overheated skin. "So incredible, so loved."

You hummed softly in contentment, nosing into the damp curls at his temple as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the lingering tremors shooting through your limbs, you felt completely at peace bundled in Harry's embrace.

One of his hands drifted down to settle over the swell of your belly, fingertips tracing idle patterns across the taut skin. "Thank you, darling," he said quietly. "For taking such wonderful care of our littles ones. For giving me this precious gift."

Tilting your head, you met his shining emerald gaze with a tender smile. "As if you need to thank me for that. This—" You placed your hand atop his, cradling the firm roundness. "This is our gift, H. One I'll never stop being grateful for."

Harry's face did that crinkly thing where his eyes squinted with the force of his smile. Leaning in, he brushed his lips sweetly, reverently across yours.

"I love you incredibly, Y/N. Every inch of you, always."

Those words, combined with the sheer depth of adoration in his gaze, had your heart turning over in your chest. You tucked yourself further into his solid frame, relishing his strength and the soothing drag of his fingers over your sated body.

"I love you too," you whispered. "More than anything."

You stayed like that for a long while, trading soft caresses and murmured endearments, until Harry insisted on getting you into a warm bath to relax properly. He drew the water himself while you waited on the plush bed, arranging the tray of sumptuous treats leftover from the gala.

When he emerged wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, you felt your breath catch at the sheer masculine beauty of him. Harry merely quirked an amused brow at your reaction before holding out one large hand.

"Shall we, gorgeous? I'll even feed you those petit fours you've been eyeing, if you'reopen to it."

You took his proffered hand with a giggle, allowing him to lead you to the ensuite bathroom where aromatic oils wafted through the air and the enormous tub awaited. Harry situated you between his legs, your back to his chest, before plucking one of the miniature chocolate cakes from the tray nearby.

He presented the treat before your lips with a soft, "Open up, darling," and you obliged with a smug grin. The rich sweetness melted over your tongue as you accepted each bite Harry slipped past your lips with careful reverence.

Eventually, you drifted off into a light doze, replete and cocooned in Harry's tender embrace. He continued soothing you with quiet praise and gentle caresses, not even bothering to rouse you until the bath water started to cool.

You awoke to Harry murmuring instructions to dry off and slip into some comfy pajamas. He watched you through hooded eyes as you complied, admiring the new softness and curves that pregnancy had gifted you. With a tender smile, he ushered you back toward the bedroom, already turned down and cozy.

As you snuggled beneath the plush duvet, Harry slid in behind you, his chest warm against your back and one large palm splaying over the firm swell of your belly. You sighed in pure contentment, feeling cherished and utterly adored.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," Harry rumbled, the words a quiet rumble against your nape. His thumb stroked soothing arcs over your stomach. "This new lush, fertile body of yours is utter perfection. I'll never stop worshipping it, worshipping you."

You bit your lip on a pleased smile, arching back against his solid frame. His free hand slid around to cup your breast, and you shivered at the careful, weighted touch.

"Let me take such good care of you both," he murmured, ducking his head to trail kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck as he cradled your heavy breast. "Make sure you stay well-fed in every way, satisfied, comfortable...like the goddesses you are."

With a blissful sigh, you melted fully into Harry's tender embrace. Every word, each featherlight caress was a balm to the lingering worries of your earlier self-consciousness. He adored this pregnancy body - round and soft and beautiful - and you knew he would move heaven and earth to ensure you felt utterly cherished and revered through it all.

Safe and loved in Harry's arms, you allowed your eyes to slip closed once more, reassured that whatever cravings or changes came next, you wouldn't face them alone. You'd meet them together.

*

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[darkestspring]

I want some papa Aegon II content with toddler daughter who came first before the twins. How hypocritical as it sounded, he definitely favoured her among her siblings just as Vizzy T favoured Rhaenyra. Perhaps he named her Visenya (He calls her ‘Senya), the name his eldest sister wanted for her daughter, since she named one of her sons Aegon with Daemon.

She’s a lil’ dreamer too with a hyperfixation with nature in general, but a little delight. So he basically encourages her to be a little rebellious while Helaena is a wholesome, doting mom who loves her bby.

Aegon would without a single hesitation name Senya his favorite if he was asked, you don't even have to ask, he'll tell you his five favorite things about her with no prompting.

Aegon loves her, he adores her, he would set this world on fire if she asked it.

Sure, there was the twins. The twins are great, he brings Jaehaerys to his council meeting sometimes but he loves watchign Senya toddle in with a bouquet of daisies in her hand and she gives them to each person she sees before giving her leftover to her papa. He loves them, he has someone put them in vases and then he has them pressed into bookmarks or things like that after Helaena suggested it (the only suggestion he actually took seriously)

He's always entering Helaena's room to ask about her whereabouts when he can't find her.

"She's out picking flowers, you shouldn't disturb her. She's on a very important mission." Helaena put emphasis on on important as she looked back down to the daisy she was embroidering in the handkerchief for Visenya.

Aegon made a face before he got up. "She'll need help if she's to pick a lot of flowers, I'll get a basket." He quickly found an excuse to follow after his daughter while Helaena watched him leave with a deadpanned face.

Did he really think he could fool her?

"Papa!" Visenya's smile was as bright as the sun as she beamed a smile up at her papa. "I've collected so many flowers! I even found a sunflower! I'll give it to you since i love you a lot."

He'd never get tired of hearing those words, that she loved him. She loved him not out of obligation or for lies, she genuinely loved him as her father.

"I've come to help my princess, shall I hold the basket full of flowers for you while you pick." He smiled at her, ignoring the words of his guard that he was the king and above such silly thing.

He turned and glared at him, waiting under the guard was completely quiet under he turned back to his daughter. "Hm? What do you say, Senya?"

"I'd love that! With Papa, I'll pick so many flowers! For Papa, for Mama, for Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and uh.... everyone else too!"

How lovely his child was. He'd do anything for this smile.

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[tvmkavlitzbby]

"Birthday party"

TW: age gap, reader is 20, Tom is 30, nsfw, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, rough sex, breeding kink, degradation, dirty talk, hickeys, alcohol, aftercare

synopsis: You recently became Bill's friend despite your age difference and he invited you to his birthday, introducing you to his twin brother Tom, who you instantly felt attracted to.

You had recently meet Bill Kaulitz at a party and soon became really good friend with him, so much that he decided to invite you at his and his brother 30th birthday party.

You obviously knew is brother, Tom, but you had never met him in person, so when you finally arrived at the party, in your black dress and heels, he introduced him to you.

"Tom, this is y/n, y/n this is Tom!" Bill shouted over the loud music, smiling at you two.

As soon as you lifted your eyes up to him you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body feeling his firm gaze on you, you instantly felt attacted to him, even though you knew he was 10 years older that you, he was handsome and you couldn't deny it.

"Nice to meet you, y/n" he said, leaning closer to hug you and waking you up from your state of trance as you felt his arm tugging on your waist.

"Nice to meet you too!" you quickly said, returning the hug.

You tried to ignore Bill's look, a mischievous one, of someone who new something was up.

Some hours and drinks later you were dancing to the music that blasted in your ears, eyes glancing to Tom from time to time, but you had lost him in the crowd a while ago.

You kept dancing until someone placed his hands on your waist, confused you turned your head to see who it was and you couldn't help but blush as you recognized Tom, who was now dacing with you, chest pressed to your back and grip firm on your waist.

Initially none of you two said anything, just dancing together while your hands found place in his hair, behind you.

Some minutes later you felt faint kisses on your neck and shoulders that made you moan slightly, intoxicated by the feeling of his lips and the alcohol as the movement between you two became more and more sensual.

"Let's go somewhere more private, shall we?" Tom asked you, lips brushing your ear.

You nodded, unable to let words out of your mouth, as you felt him take your hand and lead you somewhere else, an empty bedroom in their luxurious villa.

As soon as you two entered the room his lips were on your neck again, more passionate now, leaving bites and little marks all over.

You let your hand travel through his hair, grabbing a handful of them and squeezing them slightly.

"you're so beautiful... I know I shouldn’t be doing this but... fuck, when i saw you... i couldn't stay away" he whispered, placing his hands on your waist.

Suddenly he lifted his head, looking right in your eyes.

"If you don't want this stop me now"

You knew he was older that you, you knew that you didn’t knew him that well and you knew about his past reputation but the excitement that your body felt everytime he looked at you was enough to let all your worries wash away, pressing your lips to his, connecting them in a passionate kiss.

Tom immediately returned the kiss, picking you up from the ground as he walked to the bed, placing you on it.

His mouth traveled to your neck again, then down to your clavicles and then your boobs as he started to unzip your dress.

Once it was completely gone you were left in your black lace panties and bra, that left Tom staring at you for more than he wanted to.

So you placed your hands on his shirt, tugging it a bit to signal him to remove it, which he did a second later.

He then kissed you again, hand on your right boob as he massaged it slightly.

"Get this thing off" he mumbled in the kiss, as the bra got in the way of his hand and your boob and you did exactly as he said, exposing your breasts to his sight.

He immediately placed his lips on your nipple, sucking it slightly while you whined, starting to get desperate to feel his touch in your core.

"I know baby, I know..." he whispered, sliding his right hand under your panties, middle finger caressing your core as he spread your wetness.

"So wet for me, aren't you?" he asked but you couldn't respond, the feeling of his fingers finally on your sex clouding your mind.

"I asked you something, pretty girl" He said firmly, pressing slightly on your clit.

"Yes, s-so wet for you" you said in between moans. He then stripped you of your panties and made you open your legs a bit, placing his finger to your core again, inserting one and then starting to pound in you slowly.

"f-fuck.. Tom.." you moaned his name, needing more from him.

Almost as if he read your mind he inserted another finger and started to move his finger faster, enjoying the sight of you moaning in pleasure beneath him.

"You're so pretty, so needy..." he continued for finger you, getting closer to your heat as he placed his tongue on your clit and started massaging it.

The sudden contact made you throw your head behind, as indescribable pleasure filled you, grabbing Tom's hair while unholy sounds left your lips.

"Please, Tom.." you whispered, you needed more.

"Please what? babygirl.. you need to use your words" he teased, fingers pumping into you.

"Please, fuck me... please..." As you said this Tom nodded and retracted his fingers, leaving an aching emptiness in you.

He then stripped completely, leaving you to witness all his beautiful features, he was really fucking handsome.

He was about to take a condom when you stopped him, the thought of his cum in you overcoming your common sense.

"Don't... I'm on the pill, please..." you sounded almost desperate.

"Such a naughty girl, want my cum that much?" he asked, to which you couldn't help but nod.

He then climbed on the bed again and aligned himself with your entrance, pushing it in you just a second later, your moans filling the room.

"fuck, you're so tight" he immediately started to push into you, seeing how you were moaning in pleasure.

"fuck, fuck!" you moaned loudly, the sound of the music muffling every sound you emitted.

"look at you, so young and fucking guys like me who are older that you, uh? you should just call me "sir" at this point" his words were sharp and mean but it only contributed to your excitement.

"sir... please, please harder!" you immediately obliged to the new name, nothing at his words and grabbing Tom shoulders for support while he continued to pound into you, hitting your sweet spot continuously.

He then placed a hand on your clit, massaging it slightly, making you clench around him, grunts and moans leaving his lips.

You felt your climax close, moaning with your mouth agape.

"I'm.. I'm close!" you informed Tom.

"yeah? then cum for me princess. cum on my cock." he then connected your lips in a sloppy kiss, hitting your g-spot ripetely.

After some second you felt your orgasm hit you, your legs trembling while you moaned "sir!" on Tom's lips, immense pleasure washing over you.

You didn't even register Tom's words until you felt his cum fill you up more that you already were, making you moan.

The unholy scene was contrasted by Tom sweet kisses on your face, trying to make you come back from your high.

"Are you with me, baby?" he whispered sweetly to which you nodded.

He then got out of you, the sight of his cum slipping out of you almost making him hard again.

"You are so beautiful, fuck..." he whispered, making you giggle.

You suddenly felt the urge to hug him, to have him close to you, so you dared to reach out your hands to him and to your surprise he pulled you up and placed you on his lap, holding you gently to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sweet voice filling your ears.

"Yes, so much..." you whispered, you felt safe in his arms, in the arms of someone who was like a stranger to you, but you didn't care, you wished the time could stop right there.

"We have to clean up, let's go to the bathroom" he picked you up and, after making sure no one could see you, walked to the bathroom, where he filled the bathtub with warm water.

Too tired to move you let Tom place you gently in the water with him, the party long forgotten as he slowly cleaned your body.

You don't remember much after that, you probably fell asleep, but you didn't care because now it was morning and you were in Tom's arms, hugged close to his body.

You know you will have to talk about this with him and you know that Bill will probably fill you up with thousands of questions, but you didn't let it worry you now, placing your head on Tom's chest, drifting off to sleep once again.

[littledovesnow]

a growing family | part 4

a/n: the finale!!!! i had so much fun with this mini series, i hope you love it!

warnings: childbirth (but traumatic), idk... hospitals? inaccurate medical stuff (i worked in a hospital but i don't know shit about medicine!!!!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

-----

Following a few Peacekeepers back to the train, you and Coriolanus talked softly about the conclusion of the tour.

“How did you like to see my old stomping grounds?” He asked, referring to the quick stop you two had made in the Hob so you could use the restroom.

“It certainly looks like the place that could draw a crowd.” You smiled, thanking the Peacekeeper as he helped you into the train.

Coriolanus walked dutifully as you more-so waddled down the aisle to the private car. “Are you feeling okay?”

He had noticed you taking more breaks while walking, discomfort on your face.

Nodding, you toed off your shoes and lounged with your feet on the opposite bench, letting your husband rub them once more. “Just ready to get these babies out of me. I feel like a beached whale.”

Coriolanus laughed, looking out the window as the train began the two-day journey back to the Capitol. “I’m sure they’re excited to be out in the world, have more space to move.”

You snorted, letting your head roll back and lean against the plush booth. “How long do you think we have until they come?”

“A couple more weeks, I hope. It’s still a little early.” Coriolanus chuckled as you let out a moan when he got a particularly rough knot out of your foot. “What are you thinking for dinner tonight, my love?”

You two continued the conversation while you both watched the trees go by, content in your last days alone.

-----

The following morning, you woke before your husband, smile coming to your face when you saw the Capitol’s skyline in the distance.

Slowly rising from the bed, you paused for a moment when the world went off-kilter.

You stood and walked over to the exit of the private car, moving into the dining one for something to drink, never understanding why your mouth was so dry when traveling on the train.

 “Goodmorning, ma’am. How are you feeling?” A Peacekeeper asked, soft smile on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Tired. How about yourself?” You replied, eying the mug of coffee with envy.

You two kept a quiet conversation until the door opened once more, Coriolanus entering the car.

“You could’ve woken me; I would’ve gotten you something to drink.” He chastised, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled as the Peacekeeper left to give you and Coriolanus some privacy. “Coryo, I’m going to be holed up in a bed for weeks in a few days, let me get movement while I still can.”

Coriolanus tsked as he looked over what would be served for breakfast shortly, smile coming to his face when you pulled his free hand into your own, fiddling with his wedding band. “How are the babies doing?”

Shrugging, you looked out the window as the snow-capped mountains drew nearer. “They’re getting anxious, certainly hope they’re both in the correct position now.”

Coriolanus chewed on his lip as he hummed in agreement, not wanting you to experience surgery if it could be avoided. “We shall see, you’re meeting with the doctor the day after tomorrow, correct?”

Nodding, you sipped the tea that was placed in front of you. “Unless I go into labor beforehand.”

The elephant in the room was finally mentioned, and Coriolanus’ frown returned.

“Coryo, you know as well as I do that there’s a high possibility we’ll become parents before the end of the week. I want as much as you do to wait until it’s safer, closer to the due date, but twins come early a lot.”

Nodding, the blonde took a long sip of his coffee. “As long as you’re all okay, that’s all that matters.”

-----

You woke to a loud screech, groaning into Coriolanus’ chest as the train stopped moving, stationed back at the Capitol.

“Good morning, welcome home.” Coriolanus whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning, Coryo.”

Both of you getting up, albeit you at a slower pace than Coriolanus, there was a small crowd cheering when you two disembarked the train, publicity-trained smiles on both of your faces.

Several reporters for the Capitol News had come to the station, vying for questions about the tour and wondering it’s success.

You sucked in a breath while Coriolanus spoke with Lucky Flickerman, keeping your face neutral as you interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me, Lucky, but Coriolanus and I have prior engagements we need to get to.”

Coriolanus sent you a look as you dragged him away from the cameras. He leaned down to ask you a question, voice soft to keep it off of the microphones. “What are you talking about?”

Looking up at him, you sent him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been in labor since four this morning. We’re going to the hospital.”

-----

You groaned in pain as your OB/GYN walked into the room, smile on her face. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, my dear.”

“Well, we like to keep you on your toes.” You grumbled, letting out a sigh as the pain dissipated.

“Where’s Coriolanus? I expected him to be stationed next to you the entire time.”

Laughing, you watched as the doctor put some bands over the bump to monitor the twins. “He stepped out to call Tigris and my mother. He should be back shortly.”

Moving to examine you, you looked on the monitor to watch the babies’ heartbeats.

Coriolanus re-entered the room soon after the examination ended, smiling at the doctor when he noticed her, though when he saw the tears brimming on your lash line his smile dropped. “What happened?”

“Baby B is still in a breech position, we’re going to have to do a C-section.”

At the doctor’s repeated explanation, Coriolanus was next to you in an instant, clasping your hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay, dove. You’ve got wonderfully trained doctors, the best in all of Panem, you’ll be fine.”

It felt like a whirlwind while you were being prepped for surgery, contractions getting worse as time went on.

Coriolanus stood next to you, wanting nothing more than to help take the pain away, willing the pain away.

“Mr. Snow, we’ll be going to operating room shortly. We don’t normally allow this, but you are able to sit in the surgery with us. Meet your children.”

You frantically looked up at Coriolanus, nodding rapidly. “Please, please Coryo. I need you, I can’t- I don’t want to do this alone.”

Coriolanus nodded, allowing himself to be layered in the sterile gown and booties, nerves skyrocketing as if he was the one on the table. “You’ll be okay, my love. It’s going to be okay.”

There was an oxygen cannula pressed against your face, IV into your arm, short curtain set up on top of you, inhibiting your view of the doctors at your other end.

Coriolanus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, salty with the sweat still beading along your skin.

You felt the pinprick of a local anesthetic, the sounds of medical instruments being picked up and jostled, and the low voices of the surgeons and doctors birthing your children.

“You doing good up there, Mrs. Snow?” One of the surgeons asked, glancing up at your stats.

You nodded, too afraid to speak.

“Alright, let’s meet Baby Number One.” Your OB/GYN smiled, and a piercing cry erupted into the room. “Welcome to the world, Little Girl Snow.”

“A girl, we have a girl, Coryo.” You looked over at Coriolanus, ignoring the pressure in your head.

“We have a girl, love.” Coriolanus smiled, tears threatening to spill over.

You heard one of the machines behind you beeping more incessantly, the voices of the doctors growing muffled and distant.

“Coryo, some-something’s wrong. I feel- something is wrong.” You mumbled, words slurring.

Coriolanus felt his heart drop onto the floor at your admission, head snapping to the doctors who had started to rapidly soaking blood up, and he could pick out a few phrases from their rapid chatter, the words “obstetric hemorrhage” sending chills down his body.

“What’s wrong, what’s going on with my wife?” Coriolanus yelled, terror on his face.

“Mr. Snow, you’re going to have to head to the waiting room.” A nurse spoke, ushering him out of the operating room.

He saw one of the doctors pressing his fingers onto the second baby’s chest, while a handful of other surgeons and doctors focused on you, and Coriolanus had never felt fear quite like this.

-----

Four hours had passed since you were ripped from Coriolanus’ sight, four hours since he last saw his children. “A boy and a girl, Mr. Snow. Congratulations.” The nurse had said, smile on her face.

How she could smile in the face of a man whose wife could be dead, he’ll never know.

Coriolanus’ knee was bouncing a mile a minute as he awaited any news on your state, on the babies, on anything.

“Mr. Snow?”

His head shot up when he heard a soft voice call his name, and he saw a nurse approaching, hesitant smile on his face.

“Is my wife okay?” He asked, eyes frantic.

Nodding, the nurse lead him to a private room, away from any prying eyes. “Mrs. Snow is stable. She experienced a large quantity of blood loss during the birth, but with some transfusions, she is stable and should wake up shortly.”

Nodding, Coriolanus let out a sigh. “The babies? Are they- can I see them?”

The nurse paused, and Coriolanus saw a tick in her jaw.

“What’s wrong with my children?”

“The boy, I’m not sure if you’ve decided on names yet, but the boy will need to be monitored for a few weeks here. His lungs weren’t as developed as his sister’s, but with some supplemental oxygen and time, he should be a fighter.”

“My daughter, is she okay?”

“Would you like to meet your daughter, Mr. Snow?”

The nurse lead him to the nursery, motioning for him to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Newborns do best with skin-to-skin, if you unbutton your shirt, I can place her on your chest.”

Coriolanus quickly undid the buttons, ignoring the nurse’s gasp at the few bruises on his chest from back on the train, and gently placed the newborn in his arms.

The baby was smaller than he expected, having never held a newborn before, but he felt enamored by her, by his daughter. Already, he was wrapped around her little finger, wanting nothing more than to give her the world.

“She has her mother’s eyes.” Coriolanus whispered, soft smile on his face as he rocked slowly in the chair.

Looking up at the nurse, Coriolanus asked about you, when you would be awake and ready to meet the twins.

“It’s hard to say, some mothers wake up shortly after birthing. Others, ones who had complications not unlike your wife, it can be a few hours to days before they wake. Rest assured, your wife is being monitored closely, and you will be able to bring your daughter to meet her mother.”

Coriolanus nodded, blinking back the few tears that threatened to leak.

He was thankful you two had decided to have the hospital facility to sign NDA contracts, not wanting his soft side to be released to the public.

“I’ll let you two bond, just press that green button when you need anything.”

Coriolanus thanked her, looking down at the small baby in arms.

“Welcome to the world, little one. You and your brother aren’t going to have to worry about a thing, I’ll make sure of it.”

-----

Coriolanus looked at himself in the mirror of your hospital room’s bathroom. The man staring back at him did not look like the Coriolanus Snow who was on the presidential election posters that were recently debuted to the public.

No, the man staring back at Coriolanus had greasy, unkempt hair, stubble popping up along his face, and bags under his eyes. Tigris had stopped in with a change of clothing and something to eat, knowing her cousin wouldn’t eat if it meant leaving your side.

The twins were recovering well, the boy’s lungs growing stronger with each passing day.

You were now Coriolanus’ top priority, you still haven’t woken from the emergency surgery and complications from days prior.

The doctors were unsure of why you hadn’t woken yet, speculating your body needed more rest than you let on, the tour taking a toll on your body.

Coriolanus walked back to the chair on the side of your bed, cracking his neck as he sat down and took your hand in his.

“The babies are doing well, doctor’s speculate we’ll be able to take them home in a few days. We have to name them first, and I know we decided on what to call them, but it feels wrong to sign the certificates without you there.”

The blonde man had taken to talking about his day, explaining things the twins were doing, hoping you would wake up and respond to his ramblings.

The only response he got was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the only thing keeping Coriolanus sane.

A knock on the door drew Coriolanus out of his stupor, tight smile coming to his lips when he saw Tigris.

“How is she?” The older Snow asked, dropping a small box of baked goods on the table next to your bed.

“The same.” Coriolanus croaked, voice raw from the nights he spent crying, hoping you didn’t suffer the same end that his mother did.

It was as if Tigris could hear his inner monologue, as she hugged her cousin tightly. “She won’t be like your mom, she’s going to wake up, and she’s going to raise those babies down the hall, and she’s going to be your First Lady.”

Coriolanus nodded, dam breaking as tears escaped his eyes, racing down his chin to meet each other.

-----

Two weeks after you had become parents, Coriolanus had to make an appearance in public to show the Capitol he was still strong, and he would be Panem’s next president.

He was sitting next to Lucky Flickerman, answering lukewarm questions and entertaining the premise that he was running on a full night’s sleep, not the coffees he had been all-but bathing in.

While the show was at a break, one of the Capitol News associates came over to the two men, serious look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus looked over to him, Lucky frowning that his story had been interrupted.

“Mr. Snow, I’ve just gotten a call from a Tigris Snow? She said that you’re needed at the Capitol Medical Center urgently.”

Coriolanus felt the blood rush to his ears as he left the station without a single look back, commanding his driver to what had become his second home at this point.

-----

Footfalls echoing off the walls, Coriolanus’ eyes were wide as he turned the corner and entered the room that had become familiar over the last weeks, the room seemingly brighter when he saw your smiling face back at him.

“Love.” Coriolanus sighed, rushing to your side, kissing you as if he was starved.

You kissed back just as eagerly, only breaking the kiss when you felt your stitches pull. “Hi, Coryo.”

“Hi, dove.”  

-----

a/n: the end <3 maybe you'll see this beautiful family in some future fics!

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Oh my- I loved your Regulus x Crouch!Reader so much 😭😭

Can you do one of Sirius meeting/discovering Reg is dating Barty's twin sister. Maybe with Barty being dramatic again, 'cause him being a Drama Queen when it comes to their relationship is perfect 💖

(We can pretend the Black brothers have a good relationship, please?)

regulus black x crouch!reader where you both are soulmates but aren't just made for each other (atleast according to sirius and barty)

It was a perfect afternoon by the Black Lake, with Regulus lying in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, content and peaceful. His eyes were closed, and he looked utterly at ease, which wasn’t something you often saw in Regulus Black. You were both so relaxed that the shuffle of footsteps didn’t even register at first—until a small, trembling Hufflepuff first-year appeared before you, looking as though he’d just delivered his own death sentence.

The boy gulped, holding out a folded piece of parchment. “Um, f-for you,” he stammered, and before you could thank him, he scurried off like a bat out of the Forbidden Forest.

With a sigh, you unfolded the note. Sure enough, in Barty’s unmistakable handwriting, it read: 5 PM. My dorm.

You rolled your eyes, showing it to Regulus, who gave you an amused, knowing look. “Looks like it’s time for another lecture,” he murmured, smirking as he took your hand to help you up. “Shall we?”

As soon as you reached Barty’s dorm room, you were greeted by the sight of Barty and Sirius standing in front like two dueling professors, each radiating pure drama. Remus and Evan sat on the bed with their arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but still showing up for moral support.

“Ah,” Barty said, clearing his throat and holding up an invisible microphone with great importance, “Lady and gentleman, you’ve arrived. Welcome.”

Before you could reply, Sirius charged toward you and Regulus, hands in his hair. “My little brother,” he cried, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders with a look of exaggerated horror. “Of all the people—my baby brother!”

“Calm down, Black!” Barty held out his hand in a grand, theatrical gesture. “Let’s handle this like the mature adults we are.”

“Right,” Sirius huffed, trying to regain some dignity as he nodded solemnly. “Like adults.”

Evan coughed, muttering something suspiciously like, “Since when are either of you adults?” but Barty ignored him.

“Now, for the purpose of today’s meeting,” Barty began, bringing the invisible mic to his mouth, “we are here to discuss the… situation.” He said the word like he was addressing a crime scene. “The subject of this meeting is none other than Regulus Arcturus Black and my dearest, beloved sister,” he announced dramatically. “Today, we will weigh the pros and cons of this outrageous relationship.”

Sirius nodded, looking proud. “Brilliant. Let’s proceed.”

You and Regulus shared a look, rolling your eyes in perfect sync, but Barty and Sirius either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Pro number one,” Barty started, glancing down at a real, honest-to-Merlin list he’d scribbled out on a piece of parchment. “They are… academically compatible.”

Remus snorted, looking over Barty’s shoulder. “Barty, that’s barely a pro.”

“Excuse me, Remus,” Sirius cut in, waving his hand dismissively. “This is serious business. Real feelings are at stake.”

“Right,” Remus sighed, crossing his arms again. “My bad.”

Barty grinned proudly, moving on to the cons. “Con number one: Regulus is too punctual.”

Sirius gasped as if struck by a life-changing revelation. “Yes! And I hate to admit it, but that’s seriously unhealthy.”

Remus raised a brow. “But I’m punctual too—”

Sirius shot him a deadly glare. “Shush, Moony. You’re perfect.”

“Right,” Remus muttered dryly, sharing a look with Evan, who looked like he was barely holding back laughter.

“Con number two,” Barty continued, “Regulus never smiles.”

“True,” Sirius agreed, snapping his fingers. “It’s like he’s permanently moody! Bad influence material!”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Sirius ignored him, turning to Barty with a look of serious concern. “Barty, your sister deserves someone who smiles. Often. Like… Peter!”

Barty blinked, horrified. “Peter?” He shivered. “Let’s not get too carried away, Black.”

“Right, right,” Sirius agreed, looking relieved as he flipped to another page of their scribbled list. “Anyway. Pro number two: Regulus is, regrettably, very intelligent.”

“Thank you,” Regulus muttered.

“BUT,” Barty interrupted dramatically, “he’s also suspiciously quiet. This is concerning.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus, as if the quietness itself was a crime.

“Con number three!” Sirius interjected. “Regulus is obsessed with the stars. And he’ll probably try to convince you they’re interesting!”

Remus and Evan gave up all pretense and just rolled their eyes, sharing an exasperated glance that was almost affectionate.

“And what is wrong with astronomy?” Regulus asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Everything, dear brother!” Sirius cried, clutching his invisible microphone. “Absolutely everything!” (please don't stress on the fact that sirius loved astronomy)

They continued on with their ridiculous pros and cons, listing everything from “too fond of black clothing” to “a penchant for reading way too much.” Meanwhile, you and Regulus exchanged more eye-rolls and smirks, trying to keep straight faces as the list got more absurd.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Barty concluded the presentation, tossing down his parchment. “So, as you can clearly see, this relationship is just—”

“—a disaster waiting to happen,” Sirius finished solemnly.

Evan sighed, leaning toward Remus. “Are we actually done here?”

Remus shrugged. “If we’re lucky.”

Before either Barty or Sirius could launch into a closing speech, you finally decided you’d had enough. “Thank you both for your… input.” You gave them a sweet, exaggerated smile. “I’ll be sure to let you know if we need any more valuable insight.”

“Exactly,” Regulus agreed, deadpan. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sirius looked briefly wounded before turning to Barty. “Do you think they took this seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” Barty replied, looking scandalized.

With a huff, he turned on his heel, marching toward the door with Sirius trailing behind, muttering about how they’d “try again later” if you didn’t break up on your own. As they disappeared into the corridor, Evan and Remus finally broke, bursting into laughter that echoed through the dorm.

Remus clapped a hand on your shoulder, still chuckling. “You know, I’m almost sad to see them go.”

Evan smirked, folding his arms. “Next time, maybe we’ll make a pros and cons list on them.”

Regulus’ lips twitched in a rare smile as he pulled you closer. “Now that’s a study session I’d love to attend.”

thank you so much for requesting, love! i had so much fun writing this 💕

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: A seemingly good night at the Yule Ball goes wrong and Reader absolutely loses it at Fred.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort

Content Warnings - cursing, arguing, yelling

Word Count - 2.4k

A/N: I know I knowww the second task was in february and the third was in june but we’re gonna change it up and say they were in january AND february instead, stay with me now, it’s for the plot i promise

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

Katie and Angelina had come back just minutes after you had found your dress in pristine condition. Their exhausted looks from whatever Hooch made them do were replaced by shock.

“Is that- You were able to fix it?” Angelina blurted out, there was a noticeable amount of disbelief in her tone.

“Not me. I didn’t fix it.” You muttered, still looking at the clean fabric. “The twins…did.” You shook your head in disbelief, ignoring how the two girls gave each other knowing stares and smiles.

Katie then pleaded for you to leave the rest up to her, you did. And of course, by some miracle, was able to set you up with a Durmstrang boy for the ball, literally the morning of the event.

It was awkward being set up with a total stranger, but a date is a date.

Plus, you’d never have to talk to whoever this boy is again after this. Hopefully.

It was awkward enough meeting him. You had butchered the poor boys name to his face within the first minute of meeting each other. He had said yours perfectly through his thick accent.

“Poliakoff.” He corrected, you stammered out an apology and he only put up a hand to shush you. “It’s okay. Shall we go in?” He gestured to the entrance doors of the Great Hall when you looked puzzled at him. You nodded and wrapped your arm around his.

It was worse when you finally found where Angelina and Katie were standing with the twins, their dates. The weirded out stares from all of them were unnoticed by Poliakoff, but definitely not by you. It was so pathetically obvious you were just each other’s arm candy.

Poliakoff wasn’t the worst looking guy, but he definitely wasn’t the sharpest, and that seemed to be well-known already.

Even Cedric gave you a befuddled look and nod that said interesting choice when he entered with Cho and all the other selected champions and their dates.

Other than that, the night was going well. You stuck near Katie most of the night, you danced, you cheered and jumped around with the crowd when the band Weird Sisters came out to perform. Katie and you excused yourselves during the band's intermission to go get drinks from the refreshments table, you even were able to talk to Cedric then.

“What on Earth made you choose him?” Cedric gawked as you walked up to the table.

“You know…that is a really great question!” You happily pipped, turning to Katie with a sarcastic smile, “It was Katie's doing, not mine.” Katie scoffed and threw her hands up in defeat.

“Listen, he was the best I could find!” She huffed, crossing her arms in a playful way. “I understand he’s not the smartest but he was one of the better looking Durmstrang boys!”

“Exactly, you got her paired up with a Durmstrang while she's bestfriends with a future Triwizard Tournament winner from Hogwarts.” He grinned, tilting his head in a teasing manner, Katie sighed and shook her head.

“Future winner from Hogwarts.” You nodded slowly as you repeated his words, raising your glass in cheers to him. “Has Cho escaped you yet?” You teased Cedric, not realizing Cho was already making her way over.

Katie nudged you and your eyes went wide, a small amount of embarrassment creeping in when you saw her.

She stopped next to Cedric, letting out a shy wave.

“Cho! You look stunning!” You complimented, hoping to make her feel less tense than she looked. She thanked you, still giving a nervous smile.

“Cedric’s been giving you space to breathe I hope?” You joked.

“Yeah.” She nodded and let out a small laugh, you could see her relax a bit. “Um, you and Fred are having a lot of fun?” She pipped.

“What?” You blurted out. You were confused, honestly confused.

“You came here with Fred, right?” She blankly said, clearly oblivious to your hatred for him.

“Oh, um, no. No, I, uh, I didn’t come here with him. He’s not my date.” You stammered, genuinely surprised she thought that you and him were together.

“Oh! I’m really sorry! I just thought you two had something going on.” She rambled, apologizing more, you played it off with a laugh and shrug.

She then excused herself from the conversation, walking back to the group she was originally in.

“So, your nights been a success?” You let out a heavy breath, looking at Cedric and trying to distract yourself and everyone else from what just happened.

“Oh, it absolutely has. Cho..she…” He trailed off, letting out a happy sigh and looking behind his shoulder at Cho, “She really likes me.” He turned his head back to you with a lovesick grin stuck on his face.

“So, are you and her like…official?” Katie gestured, you looked at her with wide eyes as you nudged her with your elbow, your way of saying don’t be so nosey.

“I’ve got no idea.” Cedric breathed out, “I don’t know how to ask, am I supposed to ask? How am I supposed to?” He talked at such a quick pace, you gave him an apologetic shrug. He was so in love with her, you felt proud? Of him in some weird way.

“Well, I’ve got to get back. You better watch out, Freds been staring you down all night.” He winked and nudged you playfully before walking back to Cho.

He wasn’t lying either, by the time you looked over to where Fred was, he was darting his eyes away from you, going back to nodding at Angelina.

“He’s not wrong. He has been giving you eyes all night.” Katie said as you turned back to her.

“No he hasn’t!” You let out a ‘pfft’ as you waved her off.

“He has.” Katie said, a more serious tone this time. “You just don’t wanna see it. Cho isn’t the only one who thinks you and Fred have something going on behind the scenes.” She sipped her drink.

“You know, I would’ve told Angelina which one was George so you could take Fred.” Katie continued.

“Who thinks that?- Wait, she doesn’t know?” You gaped at her.

“I haven't got the heart to tell her Fred was the one who asked her out. I feel terrible…but I'm praying she’ll figure it out before she makes any moves.” Katie held back a laugh. “Also, plenty of people think that about you and Fred.” She gave you a sympathetic look, you ignored her.

“But what about you and George?” You attempted to switch the topic away from Fred.

“Us? We’re just friends. He clearly has his eyes set on Angelina.” She shrugged, unbothered. “Fred got Angelina, so he just decided to go with me. Anyways, where’s your boy gone off to?” She craned her neck towards the crowd, looking for your date.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him. There wasn’t a glimpse of him amongst the crowd.

“I suppose I should go look for him before the slow dancing starts, shouldn’t I?” You sighed, putting down your glass. Katie nodded. She went back into the crowd and you went to go look for your date.

It embarrassingly took ten minutes to find him. After looking through the sea of people in the middle of the room, outside the entrance doors, the staircase, you found him hiding behind a large pillar in an empty hallway. With some Beauxbaton girl. Sticking their tongues down each other's throats.

Neither of them noticed you standing there with a disgusted look, nor when you stormed off back into the Great Hall.

Sulking in a chair at an empty table, you felt stupid for being upset. You didn’t even care for that boy in the first place, but you felt stupid. You felt humiliated. It was embarrassing, being left astray like that, just embarrassing.

You stayed there for the remaining hour of the event. You weren’t sure why you bothered to stay since you were in such a bad mood, most students had left already. There were a few pairs mingling around or slow dancing.

You felt envious, watching Fred dance with Angelina.

You weren’t envious of Angelina, that she was Freds date, or that she got to slow dance with him. You weren’t envious of that, of course not.

You surely were envious that Fred was able to score a date, that he got to have fun until the last hour, and not be abandoned by his date. It hurt. It hurt seeing that. Seeing them. Him.

So, you continued to sit around, resting your head on your hands, staring at the bubbles fizzing in your drink.

“Wow, it’s odd seeing you in that fancy dress.” Freds voice appeared as he stood in front of the table. “Despite being all mopey, you look quite nice.”

“Why are you here? I thought you were with Angelina.” You slowly raised your head to give him a puzzled look.

“I thought she knew I wasn’t George.” He gave an amused look as he nodded behind him, George and Angelina were now slow dancing together, looking much more lovingly at him than she was at Fred. You let out a small amused breath, thinking about what Katie said earlier.

“What’s wrong with you?” He spoke when he noticed your face go back to its inexpressive look.

“Nothing.” You muttered as your eyes darted over to where your now ex-date was dancing with the Beauxbaton, you didn’t mean to point Freds direction to them, giving him a non-verbal answer. Fred clicked his tongue at the sight.

“I knew that geezer wouldn’t be good for you the moment he stepped in with you. Hell, I would’ve been a better date for you, and you hate me.” He sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask for your input.” You muttered.

“I’m just saying.” He lifted up his hands in defense, “You're always holed up on your own, Katie and Angelina are the most people I’ve seen you hang around.” His words made you sit up a bit more, rubbing your arm for comfort, a bit shocked at his words.

“Maybe if you put yourself out there more…you wouldn’t be heartbroken being someone's last resort.” He shrugged, all your movements stopped as you glared at him.

Last resort? Was he fucking serious?

“Excuse me?” You whispered out, he opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off when you stood up.

“Firstly, I was no one's last resort and I am not heartbroken over anyone! Secondly, I don’t hole myself up, I have friends.” You noticed that look in his face, it was a hint of condescending. “And finally, what the fuck is your problem?” You felt your eyes glaze over, you decided to start walking off before the tears came.

“I don’t have a problem! I’m just telling you how it is.” Fred was quick to follow your steps.

"God, you just don’t know when to shut up, do you? Have you always been this insufferable? I swore you were somehow more tolerable when we were younger." You spat, he only let out an amused scoff.

"I reckon what happened is you've just become uptight. People love me, I'm great!" He uncrossed his arms as he followed you up the steps.

“Of course you are! That’s your fucking issue! You’re always great and you’ll always be great.” You stopped where you were on the staircase, whipping around to look at him. You were the one staring down at him this time.

“Everyone loves you and your brother and I can’t see why!” You continued on, “Why doesn’t anyone find you as annoying as I do? Either you’ve got them all under some spell or nobody has the courage to buck up and tell you damn insufferable you are!” Fred blinked back when you pointed your index at him.

“And just because you grabbed me out of the crowd that one night doesn’t mean I have to be your friend or like you! Because all you’ve ever done is make me fucking miserable! With your stupid tricks and pranks! You make people miserable!” The words were like venom spitting off your tongue, you felt awful about it underneath all your rage. Fred looked down and blinked a few more times, like there was something in his eyes.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why’d you even approach me?” You breathed out, your tears were angry and hot. You never realized you were already crying.

“I originally wanted to say that you…” Fred hesitated to speak, opening his mouth and closing it.

“What?” You barked out, you wanted him to say whatever he was going to say so you could finally go back to your bed. Your feet hurt and you felt humiliated, there were already enough eyes from passersby set on the two of you now that you’ve shouted at him.

“That you looked…nevermind. Forget it.” He sniffled and shook his head. “Have a nice night.” He said flatly, turning around and disappearing down a random hallway.

There was a sting that came with his words. You’d never seen this raw version of him. So taken aback, sharing the same bitterness you had towards him. Spitting at you the way you always spat at him.

You’ve struck something in him somewhere in your scolding to see him be actually insulted by what you said.

You let out a breathy sob, you felt almost guilty for it, but you were blind with rage, and he started it. You attempted to swallow back your sobs and keep yourself together until you got back to your dorms, although you were already falling apart, you had already cracked in front of Fred.

Hermione bursted in not long after you, her face matching yours; tear stained with puffy eyes.

“What happened to you?” You accidentally spoke out loud.

“Ron. What about you?” She sniffled.

“Fred.”

“Weasley boys. Can’t give a damn about anybody but themselves.” Hermione muttered, grabbing pajamas out of her drawer before slamming it shut and walking out the room.

Katie’s words rung in your head as you sat in the silent room.

“Cho isn’t the only one who thinks you and Fred have something going on behind the scenes.”

“Plenty of people think that about you and Fred.”

She had to have been exaggerating, no one truly thought that. There was nothing going on “behind the scenes”.

There was nothing but hate for Fred, there was nothing hiding behind your hatred for him.

tell me what you thought! or ask tba to the series taglist!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat@nal-leo-17@rhunew@albertdabuttler@weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @honeybee240 @pillowjj

[neverthetwinsshallmeet]

Did you watch The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and think to yourself "Wow, I really wish I could listen to a two-hour analysis of the film vs. the book that includes a lengthy discussion of Enlightenment philosophy and also for some reason a passionate defense of Chino from West Side Story (2021)?" Then boy do I have the podcast episode for you!

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Could you write a fanfic with a chronically ill brother (twin or younger brother you decide) male reader X Aemond Targaryen? A longer one? (I'm very sorry I've my improper English, it is not my first language)

Healing Hurts

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Chronically ill Male reader Tags : Comfort, Targcest, soft Aemond Targaryen, undefined relationship word Count : 939

The night air in kings landing  was crisp, the moon casting silvery shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Aemond Targaryen, the one-eyed prince, stood on the Balcony. 

“Brother,” a gentle voice called from behind him. Aemond turned, his heart softening at the sight of Y/N , his frail form wrapped in a thick cloak. The illness that had once appeared suddenly had persisted for years, its grip tightening with each passing season. Nevertheless, Y/N’s spirit was a flame that refused to be extinguished.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping away from the ledge to meet him. “You should be resting.”

“I could say the same for you,”Y/N replied, a playful smile gracing his lips, though his eyes betrayed a hint of fatigue. “ It’s a beautiful night.”

Aemond’s heart swelled with affection. the sight of Y/N even in his weary state, had a way of grounding him. “What if I told you the moon turns pale for only you?” he teased, raising a brow.

Y/N rolled his eyes, but the corners of his  mouth tilted upward. “Charm won’t keep me in bed, brother. You know I hate the maesters poking and prodding ”

Aemond sighed, knowing his brother hated being treated like a frail bird. “Very well,Will you return to bed if I accompany you.”

Y/N tilted his head slightly in pretend thought before he nodded with a small smile. “Deal.”

Aemond gently wraps an arm around Y/N's shoulder, supporting him as they move indoors. The cool night air follows them, a stark contrast to the warmth within the castle walls. "The maesters mean well, you know," Aemond murmured, leading Y/N towards the royal chambers. "They only wish to help you recover."

Y/N leaned into his brother's embrace, his frail body trembling slightly against Aemond's strength. "I know," he said softly, "but I don't want to be a burden. I just want to be normal."

Aemond's heart ached at his brother's words. He knew the pain and frustration Y/N must feel, trapped in a body that refuses to cooperate. "You'll never be a burden to me, brother," he said firmly. 

As they entered the chambers, Aemond helped the younger prince sit on the edge of the bed. He kneeled  before him, looking up into those eyes that hold such wisdom beyond their years. "Let me help you undress," he offered, his hands already working at the fastenings of Y/N's cloak.

Y/N nodded, allowing Aemond to assist him. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Aemond's fingers linger on the fabric, tracing the delicate patterns etched into the material. "You don't have to worry about that," he replieed, his voice filled with conviction

Once the younger prince was free from his cloak, Aemond helped him under the covers, tucking the blankets around his brother's frail form. He sat  beside him, his hand resting lightly on Y/N's shoulder. "Is there anything else you need?" he asks, his gaze searching Y/N's face for any sign of discomfort.

Y/N shook his head, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "Just your company," he said

He settled onto the bed beside his brother, careful not to disturb him. "Then my company you shall have," he promised, his voice low and soothing.

He reached for the oil lamp on the bedside table, casting a warm glow over the room. The flickering light dances across Y/N's features, highlighting the delicate bones and the tired lines that have settled too early upon his face. Aemond's fingers ache to trace those lines, to smooth away the weariness that burdens his brother.

Instead, he picked up a soft brush from the table, running it through Y/N's long, silky hair. ""You deserve to rest." he murmured, his voice a gentle caress. 

As he brushes, Aemond lets his mind wander to the countless nights they've spent together like this, the whispered secrets and shared dreams that have bound them closer than blood. He knew the weight of Y/N's illness, the constant pain that plagues him, and yet, his brother's spirit remains unbroken.

Y/N closed his eyes feeling the soft strokes of the brush through his hair " will you stay with me tonight?, brother" he asked softly

His hand slid down to cup Y/N's cheek, thumb brushing over the delicate arch of his eyebrow. "Of course I'll stay with you," he promised, his voice rough with emotion

He knew the depth of his brother's feelings, the unspoken desires that linger just beneath the surface. Leaning in, he captured Y/N's lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the gentle press of his mouth.

Aemond's heart raced as he felt  Y/N melt into the kiss, his brother's slender arms wrapping around his neck.

He pulled him close gently , wrapping his arms around him in a protective embrace. The warmth of Y/N's body seeped into his own, a comforting presence, He pulled back from the kiss "Sleep now," He shifts on the bed, carefully manoeuvring  Y/N until the younger prince was lying down, his head cradled in the crook of Aemond's arm. Aemond's heart ached at the frailty of his brother's body, the way his bones protrude beneath his skin like delicate bird bones. But beneath that fragility lies a strength. As Y/N drifts off to sleep, Aemond remains vigilant, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. The castle is quiet this time of night, with only the occasional distant sound of a servant or guard patrolling the halls.

[jesswritesthat]

Osamu Miya: Numbers

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.5k, fluff, slight angst

• When your work bestie gets a crush on Osamu, you start to realise that it might be too late for you.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

In honesty setting up a work convention wasn’t where you’d expect to meet a potential partner, but it seemed your favourite confident colleague didn’t share that view.

"Woah..."

"Hm? What are you looking at?" You ceased your distraction task, scanning to match your colleagues’ line of sight.

"Mister tall dark and handsome over there."

"Who? Where?" Admittedly there was a hint of excitement bubbling inside you at the prospect but soon dispersed when Mai pointed him out.

"The guy fixing the stand, god what he could do with those hands. Who is that? He looks strong, I bet he's strong." Ramblings of an instant crush you noted, but since you knew said suspect personally you were obligated to shed some light (since you were also the one who called him here to help out in the first place).

"Oh? That's Miya Osamu, and yeah I guess he's strong. Lifting the bags of rice for his onigiri business helps I suppose."

With that, you went back to what you were doing - at least until Mai had giddily grabbed your arm filled with dire questions.

"Miya Osamu huh, is he single?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"A business owner and he cooks too. What kind of lover does he like?"

"Ones who eat? I dunno, I'm not sure what Osamus' taste in people is." You were uninterested now, something churning deep within you, but apparently she hadn’t noticed.

"Maybe it'll be me, he's so hot though, I wouldn't know where to start."

"He has a brother!" Why did you say that?! It was the most left field tangent imaginable, a diversion almost.

"What?"

This feeling, a hint of embarrassment and a plummet in your stomach. Too late to stop now.

"Yeah, a twin brother who's more outgoing. He should be around here somewhere for you to meet." Where is Atsumu the one time you freaking need his annoying ass?

"But Osamu is—"

"—is not a famous athlete. No no, Miya Atsumu on the other hand - ooof, gorgeous specimen and... incredibly passionate too." You’d charismatically tried, as if becoming a wingman for him.

"Wow sounds like you've got a thing for him~"

That wasn't your intention, not that you're certain of the direction you were headed in the first place but convincing Mai you fancied Atsumu wasn't it.

"Hey lil' Jackal~ Ya talkin' bout me?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear, an arm slung over your shoulder in usual greeting.

"Sort of - also get off me Atsumu!"

"Ya never normally mind, is it 'cause yer all dressed up and incredibly stunnin'?"

"No I— you what? No—" Flicking between a smirking Mai and complimentary Atsumu you desperately attempted to get them to talk.

"I mean it, yer look really nice. M' sure 'Samu will agree. Have ya seen him yet?”

"Wait I want you to meet—" Too late, she’d began backing toward her desire, waving to you both with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"I'll leave you two together, I'll catch you in a minute~"

"Mai— dammit."

"Did I miss somethin'? Seems like she's set us up and got an eye on my brother." The blonde overlooked how she’d floated over to Osamu, hand tenderly placed on his bicep to get his attention.

"It's that obvious? Do you think 'Samu will like her too?" You muttered with a hint of discomfort, eyeing the pair alongside the Setter.

"Ah, don't think so. I think his heart lies elsewhere..."

"You're right. Nothing stands in the way of Osamu and food." You confidently affirmed, Atsumu flicking to you baffled.

"Not what I was gettin' at considerin' yer the one he—"

"Especially delicious rice dishes.” You cut the blonde off with your addition, the man boredly rolling his eyes.

“Why do I even bother?”

“Don’t worry, I know your favourite food too Atsumu. It’s fatty tuna.”

“Wanna get some? This is making me sick.” Atsumu jutted his chin toward the scene of Mai flirting with his twin, and you found yourself wanting to rid the image from your mind (and heart) too.

“I second that.”

———

It was the following evening after work that you’d entered Onigiri Miya near closing time, Osamu brightening upon your arrival.

"Your usual?"

"Yeah, to go please."

Osamu paused momentarily due to this unforeseen change in routine, had he missed something? An event you'd mentioned that he'd forgotten about?

"Hey so I feel a little weird talking to you about this, but it's you and—"

"—and you've probably said worse."

"Yeah..." An embarrassed laugh and then you cleared your throat. "Anyway, Mai caught me yesterday, she's one of my colleagues from work."

"I know who she is." Clear and confident, of course he knew and you felt your tone lighten in pitch and speed. Were you nervous?

"Oh good, good. I guess that's because I saw you guys talking alone, and it looked pretty private so you probably found out then."

"Uh huh, where ya goin' with this?" Osamu raised a sceptical brow, slowing on preparing your order.

"She mentioned beforehand that you didn't y'know, make her want to throw up or whatever, so I figured that you two might've made date plans and that just feels kinda weird to me." That was putting it harshly, she’d spoken non-stop about how attractive he was all freaking day.

"Weird how?" Considering he was quite perceptive, you’d hoped he’d get what you were implying without so many questions but knowing him, this was for his own benefit.

"I mean if you did date, since I work with her, I'd hear things - and I don't know... I'd like my personal and work life not to crossover and ruin my perceptions of people."

He stared at you, awaiting whatever request you were trying to ask alongside these awkward descriptions.

"So if there's any way you could not date her, that would be really great."

"Y'got some nerve, 'm a grown man - ya can't tell me who to date."

"I'm not telling you who to date, I'm suggesting who not to date."

"Well ya can't tell me that either!" Was his adamant response, the atmosphere now bordering on defensive compared the one beforehand.

"I know I have no right but—"

"No you don't, and if you don't like what you might hear then don't listen." Osamu shot back as a proposal to your problem, leaving you to truly speak your subdued feelings in the matter - one’s he hadn’t thought you’d felt.

"I just thought that if something was going to affect our friendship, then you might care about it, because if the situation was reversed then I would care Osamu."

With that he diverted his attention solely toward your order with a hum, you on the other hand felt ridiculous. Maybe you were being petty, and just because the thought of constantly hearing how Osamu loves from Mai everyday would be heartbreaking, you could endure it if he was happy. You’d force yourself to, it might even help you get over this stupid romantic liking you’d recently discovered. In that case, you’ll have to brighten this damp mood.

"Okay you’re right. Go ahead then, date her, marry her, and make her Mrs Salmon Sushi Roll, live happily ever after for all I care. I hope you'll be delighted." You crossed your arms and turned away with a small huff escaping you once finishing your embellished claim whilst Miya blinked at you with mild bemusement.

It remained quiet for moment as he digested your words, soon enough breaking the lightened silence himself.

"By the way, I was telling Mai 'bout Volleyball serves. Dead romantic." It was spoken sarcastically, but also in a way to match your prior energy. "Said strong spike serves are harder to properly receive than floaters. Hot stuff I know, and then she asked for my number."

"That's so typical of you!" Came your slightly raised voice, spinning back to him with an accusing tone.

"What?"

"Everyone knows that jump floaters are far more effective at throwing off opponents because of their unpredictability. Everybody knows that 'Samu, everyone except you apparently, now goodbye." Knowing Mai had made her move was clarification enough - hence your volleyball tangent and strive toward the exit with your flourishing farewell.

"Yer food."

You fell still at the door after his victorious reminder, a few seconds passing as you thought about crawling back for the food or just abandoning it for the sake of pride.

"..."

Screw pride, you’re hungry.

But also you might’ve wanted to know one more thing, voice quietly asking for it once you’d reproached the counter and accepted the takeout bag he tauntingly held out for you to collect.

"Did you give her your number?"

"Yeah." Osamu smiled, one of relief and sincerity. "Seemed disappointed with the Onigiri Miya menu though."

You didn’t know if you’d managed to hide the brief feeling of melancholy well but you mirrored his smile all the same.

“Yeah, I would’ve been disappointed too.”

"Why? I make ya 'not want to throw up' too?" Came his mocking retort of your previous statement, leaving you to wittily respond as per usual.

"Shut up! I might gag, but otherwise no because you’re quite pretty. Besides I’ve had your number for years so I don’t need it."

“Knew ya liked me for more than my cooking, speaking of, there’s new menu items so take a look will ya?” Rolling his eyes with a scoff, he slid a menu over the counter which you gladly took and offered your goodbyes for the night.

—

After finishing your meal at home, your fingers lingered on the menu with mild curiosity, eyes skimming over it whilst hovering over the bin.

There were a few new appetiser additions, leading you to flip to the alternate side and almost drop it out of shock.

You traced the additional pen indentations with both your fingertips and eyes like precious scripture - a sentimental smile blooming at his charming stupidity.

Yer pretty too, call me later (Y/n),

(xxx-xxxx-xxxx)

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Laundry Day

floyd and jade learn how not to do laundry.

cw: none

also on ao3

note: this is a vignette from a collection for a full-length fic, but there are no spoilers in it and I like it as its own thing.

Floyd tapped the window of the washing machine with a suspicious expression. “Are you sure we’re doing this right?”

Jade was reading the instructions on the bottle of detergent. “I am mostly sure,” he replied. “I measured everything carefully.”

“Hmmm.” Floyd looked and sounded skeptical. “Are you sure we put enough bleach?”

“Again, mostly sure,” Jade replied. He hummed and set the detergent down. “I suppose we shall find out in due time.”

“Ehh, I don’t know about this thing.” Floyd was treating the washer as if it had challenged him to a staring contest.

Jade understood his skepticism to a point. Much to his personal embarrassment, they had never actually done laundry since moving ashore. At school the staff had handled it. But it could not be terribly difficult if most humans managed it on a regular basis.

What he found particularly fascinating was the way stains worked. A stain was all but impossible underwater, but they interacted with different fabrics in unpredictable ways. Blood, for example, needed to be rinsed in cold water immediately if there were any hope of eliminating it. Dirt and mud were more easily dislodged, while any sort of oil-based substance was much more difficult. He was already devising all kinds of experiments that would answer his questions.

“It will never dry anything if you continue opening the door,” Jade said when Floyd checked the contents of the dryer for the tenth time in almost as many minutes.

“It’s taking so looooong.” Floyd threw himself down on the floor with his limbs splayed out like a starfish. “I demand entertainment.”

“I have not connected the TV and such yet,” Jade answered, which elicited another groan of potentially fatal boredom from his twin. “Check the games cupboard.”

That certainly perked him up. Floyd got to his feet and went to rummage through their collection. He returned with Battleship and a glowing grin.

Jade cleared a space on the floor. Moving was an exhausting process, and he was beginning to think furniture was more trouble than it was worth. They set up the game, each of them trying - and failing - to fold their excessively long legs into a comfortable seating position. Floyd gave up and stretched out on his stomach, propped up on his elbows. Jade felt awkward doing the same and settled for keeping his legs off to the side and leaning on one hip.

“E5.”

“Miss.”

Jade placed a white peg on his side.

“Hmm…C4.”

Jade blinked. “Hit,” he replied and added the red peg to the bow of his destroyer. His gaze flicked upward to meet his brother’s with a slight edge.

Floyd giggled. “It’s your favorite stable plastic explosive.”

Jade sighed. “Am I so transparent?”

“Yes. C5.”

Another hit. Jade decided he really must learn to be more surreptitious about his preferences.

Floyd had decimated Jade’s fleet and was about to deal the final blow when there was a knock at the door. Jade went to answer it, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs.

“Hello, Azul.”

Azul strode in. “Greetings.” He scanned the mess of the apartment with barely-concealed dismay. “How are things going?”

“We’re playing Battleship!” Floyd cried from his place on the floor. Then the dryer alarm sounded to announce that it was finished, so he rolled to his feet and went to open it. He removed an armload of clothes and carried them into the bedroom. There was a soft whoosh as he tossed everything on the mattress. Then he returned to move the next load from the washer to the dryer. “Play with us!”

Azul shut his eyes for an extra-long blink and willed himself not to react. “You should fold or hang up clothing immediately after removing it from the dryer,” he said flatly. “Otherwise it will be wrinkled.”

“Laterrrr,” Floyd whined.

“And Battleship is only a two-player game,” Azul continued as he removed his shoes to leave them by the door.

“Uhh, yeah, maybe if you don’t have six copies of it.” Floyd rolled his eyes and went to collect the other five.

Azul frowned at Jade. “Why?”

Jade shrugged. “Object permanence.”

Floyd cleared out their current game and swiftly assembled the playing field so that each of them had two boards. He took his spot on the floor again and gazed up at the others eagerly. “Come onnn.”

Jade gave a tiny, helpless shake of his head and went to join him. Azul followed with tangible reluctance.

“I offered to help you organize things,” he said tartly. “I have a schedule, you know.”

“Should’ve written a contract,” Floyd giggled. “Now you have no choice but to have fun.”

Azul resigned himself to it. He had an easier time sitting with his legs crossed on the floor than Jade, who kept changing his position every few minutes in a futile attempt at comfort.

Jade looked around at the state of their new apartment while Floyd explained his ludicrously complicated house rules for Mega Battleship. It seemed impossible for them to own so many things. When he last spoke to their mother, she assured him that once they had everything put away, it would ease his anxieties. He did not like for things to be out of place. It would be too easy for someone to cover their tracks if they had broken in, if they were lying in wait for him-

Jade shook the thought out of his head with a twitch and reached his arm across to rub his other shoulder. It did not truly hurt anymore, but the thought continued to pester him.

“H10,” said Azul.

“Miss,” said Jade, glad that he had managed to get his thoughts back on track before either of them noticed. “D9.”

“Miss!” Floyd grinned. “J8.”

Jade sighed. “Hit. You have eliminated my submarine.”

“Knew it!”

“I mean this in the most polite way possible,” said Azul, “but how the hell are you so good at this game?”

Floyd shrugged. “I’m not. You two are just so obvious.”

They played through two rounds of it, then took a break to do some actual work. Azul and Jade set to patiently organizing things, putting things away, and hanging up the clothes Floyd had so eloquently discarded on the mattress. It was sitting directly on the floor, and Jade was seriously considering leaving it there, even though Floyd had threatened to build a tent over it and pretend they were camping every night.

“When will your furniture arrive?” Azul asked after a while.

Jade was spending a little too much time flattening the collars and lapels of every shirt and coat in the closet. “We have not purchased any yet,” he said. “I have not found anything to my liking.”

“Hmm,” Azul said. “And Floyd?”

“He finds everything to his liking.” Jade imagined that a room designed by Floyd with an unlimited budget would look patently ridiculous. In the same trip to a furniture store, Floyd had decided he wanted a bean bag chair, an inflatable couch, and a hot tub that would have cost several thousand dollars. (“In the bedroom?” “Uh, duh? Where else?”)

Jade was surprised to sense Azul coming suddenly toward him, leaving enough space for his comfort, save a hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. He turned away from his anxious fingers, making no effort to hide his distress. There was no point in trying to conceal anything around Azul; his senses were as finely tuned as the eels’, and that aside, Jade trusted him.

“It’s alright,” Azul said simply. “I ensured those responsible were dealt with.” His eyes gleamed, and his jaw was firmly set. “Comprehensively.”

“Of course.” Jade let his gaze drop to the floor of the closet, where Floyd’s shoe collection was spilling over onto his side. “I know that, logically, the odds are quite low that it would happen again.”

Azul took hold of the hand that was once again rubbing his shoulder. Jade had not even realized he was doing it again. “It is also logical to feel lingering effects, Jade.”

Jade closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath that turned into a sigh.

“Food’s here,” Floyd yelled from the living room.

Jade hung up one more shirt before following Azul to the kitchen. They had little choice but to eat at the counter, but Floyd merrily unpacked the boxes of sushi and seafood and spread them out buffet-style. He pushed the box of sashimi in Jade’s direction and hoarded the spicy tuna rolls for himself. Azul and Jade picked at various items with their chopsticks since apparently they had not purchased any plates yet, either.

Floyd opened the next box and froze. “Uhh, who ordered this?”

Azul and Jade peeked at the contents. “Ah, that’s mine,” said Azul.

Floyd and Jade just stared at him as he separated a piece of grilled and glazed eel meat from the others and lifted it to his mouth. He seemed to enjoy it a little too much.

“What?” he asked with feigned innocence. “It’s good.”

Floyd made sure to stare at Azul with his most unhinged expression as he sucked down an entire octopus arm between the points of his teeth like a second tongue. “Serves you right,” Floyd said when Azul’s mouth twitched. “That could’ve been my grandmother. At least your fricken arms grow back.” Floyd paused, as if silently wondering whether this would still work in Azul’s human form.

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” Azul said, pointing the chopsticks at him.

The dryer alarm went off again. Floyd all but leapt up to go open it. When Jade looked at him curiously, Floyd just grinned. “It’s warm and soft,” he explained. When he opened the door, several strips of what looked like paper fluttered out of it with a puff of dryer lint. “Whoops.”

Azul thought nothing of it at first, but his attention snagged on something. They couldn’t have been receipts. Receipts that went through a wash-and-dry cycle turned into little annoying balls of wadded-up paper that shredded all over the place. “Floyd,” he said with intensifying alarm, “what is that?”

“Uh, my favorite blankie and pillowcases. Also the money.”

Azul all but choked. “Excuse me?”

Floyd shrugged. “I washed it. No big deal. You’re welcome.”

Azul tripped over his own feet as he staggered to the dryer. He snatched up the pieces of material and examined them with growing horror. “Floyd,” he said again, “what did you do?”

Now it was Floyd’s turn to look at him like he was crazy. “Did you forget already? Just did what you asked.”

The bleached, worthless bills slipped from Azul’s quavering hands.

“Are you alright, Azul?” Jade asked from a safe distance.

Floyd, ignoring the unraveling of Azul’s temperament, removed the rest of the bundle from the dryer and walked it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of shattered dreams fluttering to the floor behind him. “I don’t know what you’re upset about,” he said indignantly. “You’re the one who said to launder the money.”

Jade was certain Azul was about to faint, if he did not explode first. His eyes bulged behind his glasses, and his voice came out in a soft, raspy, desperate scrape against his throat. “That is not what I meant.”

[rae-writes]

all for you...

Dazai x twin!reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : angst, ambiguous ending, major character death [not reader or Dazai], blood, implied prior emotional/physical/[light] sexual abuse

synopsis : "I don't want to play this part but I do, all for you"

a/n : I...apologize for this

“Well now…this is quite the mess to clean up…” 

The splattered blood on the wall had begun to drip, sliding down the wood slowly and splashing onto the floor with faint ‘pit, pit’ echoes. There was an eerie, ringing, silence to the air and a tension that felt suffocating.

Something shifted when Mori turned to look at the two children who just witnessed the murder— they were no older than fourteen. 

“You twins are my witnesses…from now on, I will be the new boss of the Port Mafia, and the two of you…will stay by my side.”

Fukuzawa Yukichi and Mori Ogai sat at a small, cherry-wood table that was decorated with a glass china set for the tea they were talking over; it would’ve been a rather amusing sight, if the conversation topic hadn’t been so serious. 

While they both performed their positions as head of their respective organizations diligently- and extremely well- it was no secret that they were each getting higher up in their years. They thought it best to discuss who would potentially be taking over once they were retired together, as it would help maintain their mutual agreement between said organizations. 

“Your best candidate is Doppo Kunikida, is it not? I was fairly certain it was him who was acting in your stead whenever you could not.”

You and Chuuya stood directly behind Mori, with a small handful of your subordinates a couple of feet away; similarly, Fukuzawa had Kunikida and Dazai behind him, with the rest of the agency’s core members on standby. The two heads didn’t really need them here, as they could very well handle themselves against one another, however by this point, it was more or less a tradition. 

“That is correct. What about you? Surely you’re going to pick from your pool of executives, aren’t you?” 

There it was. That nauseous dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. It sunk into your bones, forcing a cold sweat to the surface of your skin as, instinctively, your flight or fight response tried to take over. 

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The sounds around you grow muffled so suddenly it makes your head spin and the scenery melts down into a memory of the executive meeting held a week ago.

“Do not mistake my words. I will continue as the Port Mafia’s head until it is apparent I am no longer able to fulfill my role; even then, my presence will not just disappear. This is my home and the organization I’ve dedicated my life to. I’m simply implying that we will need a suitable replacement when that time comes.” 

Rae glanced at Chuuya, finding him to be exactly who Mori was looking for. There was no one else in the room, or even the entire Port Mafia for that matter, who would be better suited to take over the position as boss. 

“And Dazai Osamu shall be just the person to do so.” 

No matter how sickening the feeling of fear and dread can be, anger will always be the secondary emotion. Even if that anger doesn’t last, it festers somewhere deep inside someone and builds until it’s crawling throughout their whole body— and suddenly it’s controlling them. It’s what takes over their mind like a parasite until it’s moving their legs, their fingers, their hands; until it acts on all those…scenarios in a person’s mind that were never meant to be born- that were only supposed to stay as impulsive thoughts. It’s then that the entire world a person experiences can be flipped upside down and drowned in the raging tides their anger brought. 

It was that anger that had your body moving on autopilot while you just…watched. Like you were a prisoner in your own mind, watching something on the tv screen. 

Your feet took a few steps forward before your hand was reaching for Mori’s teacup and slamming it on the edge of the table, shattering the glass. It left one big shard in your grasp. Your free hand had come up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the long strands of black hair before yanking, forcing him to look at you with an exposed neck. 

When his red-purple hues met yours, your movements became your own. A gasp tore from your throat as you took in the sight in front of you, ragged breathing making you tremble. It was now that you were able to consciously think about your actions. 

And you thought about Osamu. 

You thought about everything he had to go through— everything Mori forced him to go through. 

You thought about that shine he had in his eyes that dulled over the years, only returning when he’d escaped Mori and the Port Mafia. You thought about the night he left, the way he cried over Odasaku and the way he cried about not wanting to leave you; you’d never seen him cry before. You thought about the hope in his eyes as you helped him leave and the genuine smile he’d given you two years later when you saw him again in the Agency. 

You thought about Mori’s sick, twisted version of affection— or ‘love’ as he called it sometimes. About the way he treated the two of you. The way he talked, manipulated, used, touched the two of you. 

As you gazed into the eyes of your tormentor- the man who was planning to drag your brother back to the darkness that had already consumed you- all that was swimming in those devil eyes was some warped version of pride; of satisfaction. 

His voice echoed in your mind, words he didn’t even need to voice aloud because he’d engrained them into you, seeping disgustingly- permanently- into your core. 

‘If I cannot have Osamu, I will gladly have you instead, my precious Y/n.’ 

With steady hands, though a trembling heart, you forced the broken piece of china into the flesh of Mori’s neck. And with a chilling cry, you dragged it across the entire expanse of his throat; his blood was now coating your face. 

It would’ve been a rather amusing sight- the horror plastered across everyone’s faces…if the situation hadn’t been so serious. 

“He…he was going to ask Osamu to be the next boss…and I couldn’t— I wouldn’t let him. Not you, Osamu.” Your voice cracked as you looked over at your brother, heart clenching when he looked at you with such…mortification. “Anyone but you.” 

And Osamu thought back to you. 

He thought back to all those times your eyes darkened in rage whenever Mori did something to him. He thought back to how you’d always yell at Mori for hurting him, whether physically or mentally. He thought back to the nights you promised him you’d help him shove down that darkness Mori festered in him. He thought about the promise you made him when he left the mafia: the promise that you’d be the one to kill Mori for what he’d done to the two of you. 

As he gazed into the eyes of his twin sibling- standing with blood on their face after just repeating the cycle, all for him- he could see the fear of what you’d just done. The determination to be better than Mori...and the love. Love for him. 

He should’ve known, his heart screams. He should’ve known this would happen, that you’d snap. He should’ve stopped you, he should’ve talked to you, he should’ve been there for you, because now—

. . .

After a haunting moment of ringing silence, the only person who dares to move is Chuuya Nakahara; the redhead kneels, sliding his hat off as he bows his head, “All hail the new Port Mafia boss, Dazai Y/n.”

[fangirlingpuggle]

I had an idea for an AU of your "the twins are bill and Fords kids AU"

So bill finds out about the kids before they hatch(?) a bit of time before it happens in your AU Bill basically kind of just remembers "oh shit I did that with Ford I should see if it actually worked"

and then he hatches(?) them and takes them and at first because it's a ✨manipulation opportunity✨ but then oh no at least some parental instinct has emerged as he takes care of them because they're his and they're wonderful

And as they grow they develop personalities and Mabel oh how she reminds Bill so much of himself the little creature of chaos she is

And Dipper reminds him of Ford (and himself too) with that insatiable hunger for knowledge to see the secrets the universe has to offer

(And when Mabel starts becoming a bit boy crazy Bill just tells her that when she's a bit older he'll let her start her own cult)

And instead of creating things with glitter Mable creates things with the stardust her dad stole from the sky when she wanted to bedazzle her scrapbook (and also glitter because it is an item that breeds chaos and that is something Bill approves of)

And Dipper has a journal that never runs out of pages where he writes down the secrets and stories of the universe (both freely given and stolen by Bill)

And they are Bills children because how could they not be they are so fundamentally weird these nigh impossible creations that were made in a drunken haze a combination of magic and science that somehow breaks the laws of both

And Bill dreams of how when the time finally comes he shall finally bring Weirdmageddon

and he'll give them like a 10th of the planet where they can do whatever they want (because he may be a parent but he still likes to party and also doesn't want his kids to accidentally eat some hard drugs so it's basically a dedicated area for the kids where he doesn't have to worry about them too much because sometimes you just need a little you time okay!!!)

And getting back on track with the original plan surely when Ford meets the kids surely he'll at least love them as much as Bill and they can finally play one big happy Family ruling the world together

[In the meantime Ford had no idea any of this was happening didn't even know he had kids so imagine his surprise on Weirdmageddon

(Should Ford even trust these children they are Bills kids not to mention the fact that he's the one who raised them

a part of Ford wants to protect these kids another part of him thinks that Bills spawn shouldn't be trusted shouldn't exist)]

Anyway do you like my idea do you have anything you'd like to add (please say you like it 🥺🥺🥺)

(I just thought this would be a fun AU for your AU I got a bit inspired do you like it? you better like it because you have infected my brain with your ideas it's time I returned a favor with mine)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!

Bill being so ready to use these kids as pawns and then he sees them and his heart instantly melts and 'I have only had these 2 for a moment and if anything happens to them I will burn the worlds down to the ground'

Him telling Mabel she can start her own cult is hilarious!

Dipper being like him fascinated by things out of his reach like the stars were for Bill and Bill encouraging him and making sure he can get all knowledge he wants.

Them breaking both magic and science is just perfection.

Bill giving hids a part of the world to have fun and sew their own chaos so he can have some me time, 'Ok kiddos go and do some destruction Dad is going to hang out with some friends and make a throne of human suffering ok'

OHH Ford's reaction to them is brilliant him being torn between wanting to protect his kids, but also these kids are Bill's and like him and raised by him. Probably twisted and manipulated by him and what if these kids are a trick a trap just a manipulation... he'd be in full paranoia mode.

This is so awesome!