#probably going to make tiny versions of the other characters too

[grapedemon]

Tiny MK, that is all

[tossawary]

I think it would be fun to do a "character swaps with older version of themselves" fic with Moshang. A post-canon Mobei-Jun who has been happily married for a while (probably at least 50 years old) accidentally touches some plot device artifact and time travels, swapping places with his 20ish-year-old self. Older MBJ wakes up in head disciple Shang Qinghua's bed where his younger self had been napping.

Younger MBJ lands in his own palace, where he is quickly found and fawned over by Older SQH, who can't help but think this MBJ is so cute. The System quickly confirms for Shang Qinghua that this situation has been sorted into a "multiple timelines" thing, so SQH doesn't have to worry about "protecting the timeline" by doing anything like hiding the fact that he's MBJ's husband. (So, there's an alternate timeline younger version of Airplane Bro now? He's just going to... ignore having an existential crisis about it. Yeah.)

Which is great because Older MBJ would not have thought about this at all as a potential issue. Older MBJ also thinks Younger SQH (Younger Airplane Bro) is incredibly cute and has no problem informing him that they're married in the future. Younger Airplane Bro is trying to figure what the fuck is happening, but he's having trouble thinking over the sound of how MBJ only became hotter: MBJ didn't get much taller, but he did get wider, heavier, more muscular, and hairier. Holy shit. Older MBJ doesn't even have any problems passionately kissing Younger SQH just to prove that they're married. And he smiles! He's so gentle and communicative! Comparatively!

("Luo Binghe is the Demon Emperor in my time," Older MBJ says. "Ah? Who's Luo Binghe?" Younger Airplane Bro lies very badly. "Hmmm, so you did know," Older MBJ says, and then makes some comment about LBH's husband that makes Younger SQH go, "HIS WHAT NOW?!")

Younger MBJ is trying to be cool, not really confused or scared, and Older SQH spoils him rotten by showing off the home that they're made together and how well the palace works to serve and defend MBJ. Linguang-Jun can't show up here because SQH will light him on fire if he shows his face. Younger MBJ doesn't even really like his SQH yet and is also struggling with how good Older SQH looks: a little taller, broader, relaxed and easygoing, answering all of his questions and explaining important things to him, dressed like a beloved demon lord's spouse, efficiently ordering everyone around. "Call me Gege," Older Shang Qinghua said with a wink, and it went straight to Younger MBJ's defenseless heart; he is developing new kinks immediately. Help him.

In the end, after a few days at most, they manage to switch Older and Younger MBJ back without too much issue. Older SQH is a little annoyed that his husband kissed an alternate timeline version of himself, but mostly because he sure would have liked that experience when he was only a disciple! Okay, SQH may have pet Younger MBJ's head and pinched his cheeks and hugged him and brushed his hair a little and shamelessly lavished him with good examples of human affection, but it's not the same!!!

Younger MBJ and Younger SQH in the alternate timeline are left in SQH's tiny head disciple house, completely flustered, sitting next to each other and barely able to look at each other. What. The. Fuck. Eventually, Shang Qinghua manages to say, "Uh, do you want to make out?" at the same time that Mobei-Jun says, "We should get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

[elucubrare]

What are your biggest turn-offs when reading/watching historical fiction or retellings of myths?

this is really complicated - i can put it in two boxes, both of which are packed very full.

disconnection from the material reality of the past

when characters display a very specifically modern mindset (about social issues especially, but other stuff too)

(I also get bothered by some kinds of modern language - I don't mind it when, idk, an author uses "sensible" with the modern connotation of "practical" and not the 18th century "emotional" or "empathetic", but "yeah" or "okay," or even, as i found out when someone used it in medieval fantasy, "holy shit" will get on my nerves.)

there are modern things where (made up example!) a character who's supposed to be a cook will talk about making caprese salad for a fancy restaurant in December, and someone snarking on the book will say "yeah, right, they should know better than to make something that depends on a fresh summer vegetable!" and even with greenhouses, that's pretty fair. and that's even more extreme in the past. it's 1650 in Verona, it's December, you cannot obtain fresh tomatoes. i don't think this means that people in the past were, necessarily, more emotionally or spiritually in tune with the cycle of the year, or the labor it took to get clothes, or furniture, or any other material item, and of course wealth can insulate people from some of that difficulty, but it does mean that the seasons had more direct impact on people's lives. It's possible to, for example, buy clothes ready-made, but for anything fancy, it's more likely that it'll be made to fit if it's new, or altered extensively and painstakingly if it's not. that means that tearing or staining a fancy dress isn't just an issue of looking bad - you can't just replace it, and you probably won't throw it out - you figure out how to reuse it. those concerns of access to material goods are just a lot closer to the surface of the world than they often are now.

my objections to modern attitudes about the world are not that people in the past 100% accepted the views of their contemporaries - there were always people who didn't, and it makes sense that a protagonist would be one of them. but people wouldn't phrase those objections in the same way that modern people would - say your main character doesn't want a woman accused of being a witch burned. "God's power is such that the Devil cannot give this woman the ability to sour milk" is most likely going to be more persuasive to the crowd than "witches aren't real." and sometimes that's rough - it's not super fun to read about a Roman with Roman attitudes about provincial wars, or slavery in the city, but I put something down because a Roman character said (in internal dialogue) that he was disgusted to see that a man had been tortured because "Romans simply didn't do that." Historical Romans did do that, routinely - a slave could not testify in a law court unless they had been tortured. Even with distasteful things like that, I'd much rather it just be glossed over than to have them say the "correct" modern thing. It just makes it feel too much like the theme park version of the culture.

Both of these are because of specific things I come to historical fiction for - I want that sense of alienation, the gulf of experience. I hate that most historical fiction (and fantasy set in semi-recognizable periods) characters don't really care about Honor, except as a joke, because I love when characters organize their lives around arcane rules and systems that cause tiny things to escalate into blood feud. I just think they're neat! I like it when people's worldviews are shaped by their lack of scientific certainty about what causes crops to fail! If I wanted to read about people who thought and acted like me, and had lives that were mostly similar to mine, only cooler, I'd just read contemporary fiction.

[temis-de-leon]

MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist , Part 2 (kind of)

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

.

.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

.

.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel. 

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

.

.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

.

.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

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.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

 “Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

.

.

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.  

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

.

.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

.

.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

.

.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

 “Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

.

.

.

@ourfinalisation

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us V

Summary:

Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5576

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.

Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.

But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.

Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"

Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”

He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.

They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.

“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”

Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”

Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”

Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.

He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”

Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."

A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.

A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.

Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.

Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”

“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”

Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.

As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.

"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.

Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.

The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.

So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.

“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.

“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.

Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”

Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”

Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.

“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.

“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.

Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.

There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.

Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.

Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.

“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”

Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”

“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.

“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.

Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"

Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”

Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.

“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”

Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.

Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”

Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.

“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.

When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.

“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”

Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”

Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.

Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.

“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.

Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”

As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.

"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.

Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.

Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."

Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.

The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.

Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”

Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.

Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.

He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”

Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”

Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”

He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.

Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.

Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.

The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.

The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.

“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.

Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.

He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.

Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.

“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.

Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.

“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.

“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.

Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.

“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.

“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.

“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.

Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.

His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.

Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.

“Mine” muttered Aemond.

Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.

“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”

Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.

“Aemond-Aemond-”

“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.

“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.

Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.

Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.

Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”

Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.

He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.

Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.

Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”

Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”

Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”

Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”

Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.

“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.

Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”

As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”

Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.

“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.

As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”

The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.

Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.

What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.

All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.

But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.

The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.

He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.

When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.

The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.

She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.

Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.

 He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.

Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.

Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.

Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.

The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.

Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.

Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.

When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.

With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.

As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.

He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.

To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.

At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.

The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.

Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.

 When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.

He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.

"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.

They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.

Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.

Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”

His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.

“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”

Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”

Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”

Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.

One day, he promised himself. One day soon.

At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.

He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.

But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.

Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”

Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.

The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.

“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.

Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.

“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.

Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”

Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.

Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.

Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”

But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”

A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”

Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.

Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.

Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”

Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”

Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.

Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.

As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.

"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.

Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."

Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.

"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.

Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?

Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.

"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.

To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.

Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.

"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"

Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.

Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."

Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”

Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.

“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.

“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.

“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.

"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.

Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”

"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”

“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.

Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."

Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."

Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.

More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.

As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.

But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.

Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.

Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.

Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.

Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Y.N was driving him crazy.

Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.

“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.

“I’m not going to last-if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.

“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.

“Now can I have a Burger King?”

Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.

As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.

TBC

[katiascraft]

"Is this the start of something new?" |LN4

Part 2: Made in Argetina: The Series. (Lando's Version)

Parings: Lando Norris x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: after the austin gp, lando and you have your "first date".

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: none. Just fluff. Not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) errors. (I do what i can). Not proofread.

Author's note: finally here it is! Hope you like it i accept more suggestions and contructive critics! Dont forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

Watching the podium was a dream of yours and now you have made it come true. You heard the anthems for the first time in person. All of the tifosis screaming it out. Charles smiled so proud along with Carlos and Max. You were really intrigued by Max’s character and you hope someday you could meet him. That was another dream of yours. Like Franco said: a tiny human filled with so many crazy dreams. Yeah, he joked about it all the time because you have this dreamy personality but he loves you for that. His so logical and terrenal, he loves that you add the daydreaming he most of the time lacks. That’s why your besties, you understand anc complement each other.

When the podium party ended and people started to spread out into different directions, you decided to call Franco to see where he was at. But he didn’t respond. You felt now again embarrassed like when you bumped into Lando fucking the most handsome cute and hot persona you’ve ever seen Norris and born his phone. You felt so stupid. You forgot your friend is now a driver here and probably doesn’t have time to answer your checking calls. So you decided to get back to the paddock and headed to Williams garage. You didn’t wanna be lost so you concentrated on finding your franquito. Fortunately some guys from the team told you he was at a meeting so you decided to look for Lily.

You found her at a table with another girl and didn’t want to interrupt but you also didn’t want to be alone.

“Hey… hi. Sorry to interrupt girls. I was lost for a moment I’m happy to find you Lily” you said shyly and clearly sorry for making the two beautiful women stop talking.

“Y/n! Oh no, there’s no problem honey. I was telling Alexa about you. So perfect timing!” She said sweet and made you smile widely. She introduced you to Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend. She was so stunning in person. And also really sweet. Lily made you part of their conversation and your stayed with them until Franco was free to get back to the hotel.

Lando was on a meeting with the team he really didn’t want to be in. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to all of that right now. Oscar knew about it and tried to pay attention so at least one of them had the important information and the big men knew. Lando couldn’t stop thinking about you smile and your rosé cheeks. And what you said to him. He also was anxious about the fact you’d never replied. Nor add him to contacts. He wanted to see your profile picture. He wanted to talk to you right now but he had to be here doing driver things. He never tends to be distracted. But he couldn’t help it. You were too gorgeous to not overthink about the whole interaction you had.

When the meeting ended Lando and Oscar went to the mc claren building to get change and eat something before heading to the hotel and rest. They didn’t want to do much. It was a frustrating race and weren't in the mood to go celebrate like some of the boys will do. Maybe he’ll watch Cars and fall asleep before it finishes. It was his comfort plan to be honest.

You and the girls order something to eat at the Williams building. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fact you broke Lando’s phone and that you could have stayed with him. You didn’t know why you felt like that. Like you did something wrong and added to the phone breaking. You started playing around with your phone once Lily and Alex started talking about things you really didn’t understand. But the only thing you learnt is that Alex lives in Monaco and there people speak French and you didn’t know about that. That’s when you see his messages. You blushed by reading them. You got so nervous. Lando was flirting with you that was obvious but you couldn’t believe he was flirting with you like why? Out of all the girls that come to see races, why you? You bit your lip replying.

‘Oh hola pretty boy. Sorry I didn’t see it till now. And sorry again for breaking your phone. Funny both phones still work somehow jaja’

You didn’t know how to approach and English man. Of course you flirted with guys before but you know, with the same culture and slang and social context. This is so different. You didn’t want to come off as rude or whatever.

‘How brave you are to give your heart to unknown person 👀’

You didn’t know if that was actually considered a tease but you were trying at least.

You jumped scared when Franco out of nowhere hugged you from behind almost screaming in your head.

“Al fin te encuentro amiguita. En qué andas? Cambiándome por gente linda y famosa?” (He said hi and what you were doing “charging me for more pretty and richer people?”) that made you laugh and roll your eyes.

“Ojalá. Lamentablemente me tocó ser tu amiga y no puedo salir” you joked about how unfortunately you were his friend and you couldn’t run away. That made him room his eyes. He joined the conversation and met Alex as well. You talked for a few more minutes till Alex Albon came back and so we started going down the stairs all together. Alex headed to the Ferrari building and another girl said bye to Lily and Alex. She said it was Carlos’ girlfriend Rebecca. All of them were so beautiful. You were in love.

You and Franco were chatting about what the meeting was all about when you heard someone scream from afar.

“Wait guys! Franco! Alex! Y/n!” When you all turned you found lando coming to you. Franco looked at you with one brow raised, strange about how Lando knew his best friend’s name. “Sorry guys, I just wanted to say goodbye. We’re not gonna see each other until Mexico” he said weirdly and nervously . That wasn’t the usual Franco thought. He looked at Alex who looked at him the same. Lily looked at you with question marks on her eyes. You smiled at Lando. Your heart is racing. He gave everyone a hug. And you were last. You didn’t know what to do in this situation. You didn’t understand what he was doing. When he hugged you a paper fell on the floor. So when you two splitted he picked up the little paper.

“Here you go” he said and handed it to you so you took it suspicious. “Alright bye guys! Take care!” He waved, running again into the orphanage building. You saved the paper on your jeans and played it cool.

“Okay that was weird and nice at the same time” Franco said, making all of you giggle.

(…)

After leaving Franco at his room and spending some time with him just chatting and drinking mate, you decided to come to your room to rest as well. All of the feelings you felt have left you exhausted. You were so happy for franco. So proud. You could feel your heart explode.

You had a shower. You needed to take out all of the weight of the day from your body. Relax for a while. By yourself listening to a piano playlist you found on Spotify. Dark academia theme. You loved it. After a few minutes you were packing and preparing all of your stuff because tomorrow you headed to Mexico. You were gonna be with franco until the Brazil race. And then going back home to Argentina.

When you grabbed your jeans, the ones you wore today, you remembered the paper piece lando handed to you. You know it wasn’t yours but your intuition just followed along with his play. You unfolded it and smiled.

‘Wanna chill out and watch cars for a while?’

That’s what the paper said and under the question was his hotel and room number. He didn’t answer your messages. And you thought this was like the most romantic thing. Like not using phones and sneaking into hotels. And keeping it a secret. Like a wattpad story you used to read when you were a kid about Niall Horan. Or maybe are you just crazy? Whatever.

You hesitated whether to go or not by the time it was. But you had nothing to lose. He offered and maybe this one gonna be it. Maybe you wouldn’t meet Lando Norris like this or any other way ever again so.

You decided to take some candies you had in your bag and that was it. You felt really bad about not having anything else to take. Google maps indicated his hotel was the one next to the one you were so that was a coincidence that wasn’t in your bung card. You didn’t think much about it and just went straight to his room.

When you got to it you knocked on the door carefully. If he was asleep you didn’t want to wake him up.

Fortunately a few seconds later we opened the door with a sleepy smile and very surprised.

“I thought you wouldn’t come” he said letting you in. You giggled a little.

“Surprise! I’m not losing my chances here honey” you said teasing him and saw how he blushed closing the door.

“Is that a thing in Argentina like beating hot and a teaser?” He asked me to open his mini bar, take out two water bottles and hand one to you with a smile.

“Well I think it is, you know. We are all pretty charming” you said, taking the water and string in his bed. You saw the tv screen displaying the cars movie already in the middle of the story. You acted offended.

“So you invited me to watch cars but decided to watch it all alone?” You said arching a brow funny. He looked exposed and stood in front of the tv.

“Actually that was a trap because no one says no to cars cause it’s a great movie but I invited you to look at me” he said posing awkwardly making you giggle.

“Alright I’ll enjoy the view then” you said grinning.

You just enjoyed time together by chatting about Argentina and London and a few words. And trivial stuff but you laughed so much. He is so funny and laughed at all of your jokes. Like you matched each other’s energy. Or crazy.

It was time for you to go back to your hotel because it was already 2 am and packing wasn’t done. Neither you nor Lando had packed everything for tomorrow's flight.

“Would I see you around then? It was really nice talking to you” he said on the door looking down at you with sleepy puppies eyes. You were so cute and fun. He felt the butterflies. You made him so nervous. Giggling and blushing like a teenager. You smiled at him. You were the most precious thing he has ever seen.

You nodded “of course. I’ll be with Franco until the Brazil race. That’s when I go back to Argentina sadly. But maybe I’ll travel again for Abu Dhabi” you said softly, looking at him. God he was so beautiful. He nodded in response.

Silence took place between you two for a few seconds. You decided to end it by giving him a kiss on his cheek. “See you around landito, te me cuidas chico lindo” you said just like how you taught him earlier a little funny and waved at him heading to the elevator. He waved at you. His face red.

Was this the start of something new?

(…)

‘You looked beautiful in that orange hoodie you wore today’ he texted.

‘You only say that it’s because it’s papaya. Do you want me to be a papaya? You’ll have to work your ass off. I’m team Williams until franco gets a seat in another team’ you texted.

‘I’m on it darling. Get ready’ he texted.

‘Oh I’ve been ready my whole life for this moment’ you texted.

‘😍😍😍😍’ he texted.

‘👀👀👀👀’ you texted.

——————————————————————————————

Hope you liked it 💌 my inbox is open if you have any idea! Send your requests!

[peaxhxhair]

Raising Kids with them - Overwatch Heroes

Featuring: Cassidy, Mercy, Moira, Roadhog, Junker Queen Warnings: Moira. A/n: this isn't exactly the official setting for each character - but this is fanfiction so we're gonna ignore it lol Navigation Overwatch - MASTERLIST Consider becoming a member! <3

Odessa Stone (Junker Queen)

She wouldn't be into having kids at first - thinking that something so small would make her weak.

It does - but she refuses to admit it.

You both decided adoption was probably the best option - adopting a sweet baby girl.

I think Dez would be all about teaching her kids to fight.

Even before they've learnt to walk.

"C'mon kiddo! I was fighting at your age!"

Sometimes you would find her playing with your baby - making it look as if they were both boxing.

It was quite a funny sight.

You'll come home from work and find them watching wrestling or something.

Probably swears around your kid.

Your babies first word is probably 'cunt' or 'fuck'

You're usually the one to take your daughter to school, but on the off chance Dez does - the rest of the parents are scared of her.

The kids adore her though.

She'll struggle doing stuff like diaper changes at first - as anyone would

~~~

As your daughter gets older - she grows into a mini version of Dez.

She wont call her 'mom' - instead calling her something silly like 'cunt' or 'fuckwit'

Dez gets a real kick out of it - and does the same.

Dez would be a little disappointed if your kid didn't want to fight, though she'd still be supportive - even if she didn't really understand.

Cries on your daughters wedding day - but tries to hide it.

"I'm not crying cunt, you're crying"

Mako Rutledge (Roadhog)

I think Mako would be really good with kids-

Big brooding dad & cute tiny daughter combo type vibe

Maybe she's really talkative, and he just listens.

He'd let her put clips in his hair and paint his nails.

It's giving Gru when his girls are doing ballet.

He's always the one to hold the kids when needed - since he barely has any issue.

His hands are just so big.

Even if you had like - 4 kids he would have no trouble carrying them all.

You were grateful that you could have some time alone sometimes, as Mako is a very competent father.

'crane's hand back while driving when kid opens snack' dad

Your kid might pretend to wear his shoes - and they can barely even stand properly in them, let alone walk.

Moira O'Deorain 

Does not want kids.

Only agreed because you would make a face at her whenever you saw a baby.

test-tube baby fr

Literally will not go to another doctor about her kids health.

Does she know anything about kids? No.

Does she think she knows more than the QUALIFIED children's doctors? Absolutely she does.

MIGHT agree to taking your kid to see Angela - if you're not too keen on her doing science on your kid.

HATES being called mom.

She's fine with your kid just calling her by her name.

This was weird on the first day of school - most parents thinking your kids other parent wasn't in the picture.

She was fine with that idea - meaning that you 'left' your old partner for her. Narcissist.

~~~

Your babies first word was definitely her name.

but in the cute baby way.

'Moiwa'

When your kid gets a little older, maybe they'll ask about Moira's arm.

"This is what happens when you smoke"

Your kid will never even THINK about smoking ever again.

It isn't until they're 30 that they realise that wasn't true.

Prefers to keep her kids away from science - as much as it was important to her.

She'll barely talk to you about it either - which may be hard if you're also a part of Talon.

Having to bring your kids to work with you is definitely SOMETHING.

You'd prefer for them to be with you rather than with Moira, though.

Your kids are NOSY, so you have to bend the truth a little bit.

Just to make sure they don't view their mom as the ruthless geneticist that she ACTUALLY is.

"Why is miss Amelie blue?"

"She didn't eat her vegetables"

Angela Ziegler (Mercy)

BIG on consistent check-ups.

Sometimes she'll do them herself, but she prefers the professionals.

She doesn't specialise in child care, but she does make sure that your child is going to the best doctor in the field.

Definitely enjoys shopping for baby clothes.

Works with baby on lap - letting the little guy play with her fingers.

Aeroplane noises while getting the baby to eat.

does NOT let the kid eat candy until they're like 10.

This was hard for you - because it meant you couldn't have candy in the house.

Secret stash of sweets hidden somewhere in your car.

One in Overwatch HQ too.

ALWAYS prepared.

Baby needs a snack? She's got cut up grapes in her bag.

Always has wipes and diapers.

"Hey babe? Where's their bottle?" She's already retrieved it from the drying rack.

Tiny first-aid kid in her bag at ALL times.

~~~

If your kid wants their ears pierced at Claire's. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Angela is panicked at any idea of infections - especially when it comes to your kid.

Your kiddo is made to wear clip on earrings until they qualify to be pierced by a professional.

Will always make sure places are baby safe before you take your kid there.

~~~

She's calm 90% of the time - she just cares about general safety and health.

Matching onesies with your kid.

Chilli and Bingo core :)

Angela would LOVE doing Halloween costumes for your kiddo.

They're always so CUTE.

If she has the time, she'll put together matching family ones.

Cole Cassidy

Baby carrier dad.

Like he'll just carry your baby everywhere.

Gets upset when he has to put the little guy down.

"We're just fine over here. No need to pull us apart"

Your child definitely prefers him to you - which you're fine with.

It's just so cute seeing them play together.

I'd say he's a girl dad - the type to teach her how to shoot, or play football with.

9 times out of ten, he'll fall asleep while reading her a bedtime story, so he always just ends up sleeping in your daughters bed with her.

The two of them cuddled up on the tiny mattress - he's holding your little girl so protectively.

~~~

The moms at the nursery you take your daughter to all think Cole is hot.

Too right.

They just need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

Your kid is very protective of him - and your relationship.

If you're married, she'll be like;

"Daddy, show her your wedding ring!! Isn't it nice?"

It makes Cole chuckle every time.

Cole didn't even need to shut the women down - your kid was doing all the work for him.

~~~

Definitely the dad that all of your kids friends like

"Your dad is so cool!"

He's always invited to their little tea parties and stuff.

Yes, he will put on the crown and princess dress.

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[jojo-schmo]

How did you come up with roleswap Elfilis' design? It's really cool!

Hi! Thank you so much! :D I'd love to share my thought process! Gather round the armchair by the fireplace, friends! It's story time!

I've said before that the Forgotten Land Roleswap started off as a doodle that swapped Dedede and Bandana Dee's roles as Player 2 and the Brainwashed Beast. But when I realized how fun that one little change was, how about EVEN MORE changes? That's how my one-time doodle turned into the full AU story. I swapped Meta Knight and Kirby, Clawroline and Leongar, and Sillydillo and Gorimondo- and because the story is so Waddle-Dee centric, I promoted Dedede to "Player 1" since the stakes would be higher for him as their King.

So now I had a story that had a lot of opposite traits to canon and I wanted to explore that further! When it came to the matter of Elfilin, I thought he would probably behave too similarly towards Dedede and Meta as he did to Kirby and Bandee. He'd be friendly and trusting, communicative, optimistic, knowledgeable, and cooperative. So how about providing them a travel companion who is defensive, has trouble communicating, a little wild, uninformed about themselves and the world around them, and has a bit of a temper?

But working with all these opposite traits didn't feel in-character for Elfilin anymore. So my natural next step was to swap Elfilin with Elfilis and make a new version of the Forgotten Land's lost little pup!

Enough yapping about the context behind my decisions, tho. How'd I come up with Roleswap Elfilis' design?

I see you out there, Fecto Forgo fans. Maybe somebody out there's thought, "Roleswap Elfilis does not look like them! Why not? That's what the other 50% of the Ultimate Life Form looks like! I demand justice for the angry glowing rat fetus!"

Maybe nobody has ever thought this. But I wonder sometimes lol

Your feelings are valid, friends. Please lemme explain my reasonings.

This fella, to me, is the abandoned wet specimen left to float in a jar for who-knows-how-long after a forcible physical and mental separation via spatial teleportation shenanigans. And I think part of their appearance is due to their role as the trapped and forgotten half.

The role of the half that got away fully formed his own body and inherited some traits from the complete being-

For Elfilin in canon, he got ears that are proportionally huge compared to the rest of his body, blue eyes that sparkle with the light of a thousand destroyed planets, a tiny bit of pink fur for his adorable blushies, and a really long fluffy tail. Maybe becoming a being free of chaos gave him those sweet eyes like Kirby and the Waddle Dees have.

My reasoning is that whichever half ends up escaping the Lab and fully forming their own body, they would carry the major physical traits the other wouldn't inherit.

Anyway, that left Elfilis with the horns, colorful and expressive eyes, whiskers, beige chest fluff, opposable thumbs, and pink tummy fur.

Elfilin gets the long tail in the bodily divorce so Elfilis has a short stubby little cotton tail like a bunny. Like if he ended up with just the very tip of the Ultimate Life Form's tail.

Behold this diagram above I came up with two years ago! Disclaimer: the canon Elfilin is the one in the chart. And I draw him a little differently these days lol. I ain't showing anyone how he ended up in the Roleswap yet tho!!!! >:0

But Roleswap Elfilis is more than just "baby version of the Ultimate Life Form..."

All the differences in the Forgotten Land Roleswap from canon stem from one event in the timeline. One change that I added to the events that were already supposed to take place. It's why the Ultimate Life Form split differently. Why the Beasts have different roles and aesthetics. Even why the portal took Bandana Dee and Kirby before Meta Knight and King Dedede.

How did that saying go again? The flap of wings somewhere can influence a bunch of huge changes somewhere else down the line...? What was the name of that theory again....? Hmm. Not important, I guess.

Anyway, the end!! You sly dog, you got me monologuing!!1! /lighthearted

[calliecwrites]

Shifter HRT, part 1 – Egg, Cracked

So you want to be a shifter? You’ve read about humanity replacement therapy, or species HRT, but can’t find anything about the shifter version? You’re scared, you’re worried this isn’t the path for you, but part of you wants it more than anything?

You’re not alone. I’ve been there. I’m still there. And I’ve taken the first steps. Tomorrow I have my first appointment, though not with a doctor, and if all goes well, by this time tomorrow, I’ll have taken my first dose.

I’m writing this so you’ll have it easier than I did. Also, I want there to be a record, in case something happens to me. I’m not exactly doing this the traditional way.

* * *

I’ve known what I wanted to be since I knew shifters existed. Everything I heard about them – being fluid, shapeshifting – felt right. I started imagining myself as one. If you’re reading this, you probably know how that feels.

I hid it. Even as a kid, I knew people wouldn’t react well to what went on in my head. You’re not supposed to relate to monsters.

Then things got complicated when I realised I was trans. I told myself that wanting to be a shifter was all about wanting to fix my body, since being able to shapeshift would make that easy. I certainly did want that – but I’d imagined myself as a shifter since long before then. I’d imagined being able to change myself in many other ways, before transition became the most important thing. And after transition, so much was better, but that longing didn’t go away.

This isn’t a contradiction. Fixing one thing, even the most urgent thing, like I did, doesn’t automatically fix everything. But I was in denial. I’d transitioned (once); everything was supposed to be fine, now. I told myself the rest was a fantasy.

Then I heard about species HRT. I read about someone becoming a slime – and that did something to me. Slimes are fluid, and so are shifters. Shifters are slime-adjacent, for sure. Maybe this wasn’t just a fantasy. Maybe it could be real.

I’m not in denial anymore. Egg cracked. Time to transition again.

* * *

Were there signs? Oh yes, there were signs.

Nimona. Mystique. Slime girls. The Changelings. And when a character says no solid could ever understand, feeling it like a punch to the gut. Wanting to understand.

Wanting to fly, wanting to swim. Wondering what it’s like to be huge, or tiny, or a tree, or a rock. Wanting to be everything. Fluidity. Freedom. Flowing and pooling, wanting to be a blob of goo with no form at all.

Learning to phantom-sense extra limbs. Being a shifter in daydreams. Learning to lucid dream so I could learn to shapeshift in there. Still being sad because it could only ever be an approximation.

Sitting by the lake, longing to merge with the water and lose myself for a while. Wishing it wasn’t water, but other shifters, welcoming.

Sometimes want isn’t the word at all, but need.

And there are people who can actually do these things, and I can’t? How is that fair? What sort of world has shifters in it and I’m not one?

Sound familiar?

I read everything I can find about them. Not stories written by humans – those aren’t accurate. Most are just sex, or all about fear and hunger and absorption. Shifters don’t absorb people! – it’s their biggest taboo. I read stories shifters write for themselves – and I can’t get enough. Just don’t look in the comments: you’ve got humans calling them monsters, telling them what they should go do to themselves – and a few brave shifters saying how much the stories mean to them. Sometimes the stories disappear, but they always come back.

‘Fluid as the ocean, wild as the wind, and cannot be contained.’ That’s a thing they say about themselves. That should be me.

I don’t comment, don’t interact – hiding, remember? But the stories mean so much to me, too. They’re a window onto how my life could be. I tried to tell myself this was just a sex thing for a while – more denial. There are plenty other stories I could read, if that was all I wanted. But that isn’t what I imagine when I imagine shifters, or even shifter sex. I imagine being one.

Haters would call me a traitor to my own species. They’d call me sick, mentally ill, monsterfucker, monster. Like I haven’t heard all that before for being trans. I want to tell them I’m nothing like them, that they can keep their precious humanity if this is what it looks like – but I don’t dare. I’m too afraid: what if they’re right? I know what I want to be, I know what I should be, but I look at my body and think: this is what I am, fixed, solid, human. I can’t do anything about it, no matter what I am on the inside, no matter how much I hate it. And this is familiar, too – I felt the same way before my first transition. Trapped as something I hated being. Powerless.

* * *

Except, now, there is something I can do about it.

No doctors prescribe shifter HRT – unlike for other species. The only source is the few shifters who figured out how to make it. They keep it tightly controlled, so they can control who gets it. They want to make sure we meet their standards – that we’re shifter enough. I don’t like that. But other people, who want to make it freely available, haven’t figured out how to make it yet.

I’m not waiting for them, not now that I’ve decided. I couldn’t. I could die – accidents happen, after all. How would I feel, knowing I was dying human, still wondering what it would have been like? Never really having been me? No. I’m not waiting.

So I got in touch, and I spoke to one of them online. She arranged the appointment, and now she’s flying in – and I’m pretty sure that means as a bird, not on a plane. All I have to do is convince her. Tomorrow determines everything. If it goes well, I’ll be starting right away.

I still can’t quite believe it. It feels too good to be true. But it is. It really is. It was the same before – I couldn’t believe anything would change till I took my first dose of estrogen. Sometimes reason isn’t enough, planning isn’t enough, sometimes it takes direct contradiction to break the hold a belief like that can have on me. I’ll never take hormones, meet I am now taking hormones. Suddenly I see I was wrong, and there is hope again.

And tomorrow it’s going to happen again. Hopefully. Finally.

And then I really won’t be human.

Next

I'm doing one of these now too! Inspired by the many other animal HRT stories, especially the two slime HRT series by @sandyca5tle and @scrubbinn. In the beginning it's drawing a lot on my own transition, but will be going very different places.

If you want to read more without waiting for the rest of the series, take a look at my other stories – shifters turn up in lots of them.

Oh and that list of signs? They're all real :)

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sandyca5tle @scrubbinn

[shirefantasies]

Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!

Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲

How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition

Balin

Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.

Dwalin

Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!

Thorin

Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!

Oin

Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.

Gloin

The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!

Bifur

A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.

Bofur

Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.

Bombur

Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!

Dori

The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.

Nori

Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.

Ori

Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!

Fili

Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.

Kili

This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.

Bilbo

Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.

Thranduil

Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.

Bard

Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.

Beorn

Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.

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[afuntimepartyy]

Dandys world wings of fire!!! Since there’s so many in the post I’m not going into full descriptions but here they are! Def want to revise tisha a bit to give her slightly more obvious icewing traits and a wider rectangle shape. And cosmo isn’t feeling cosmo to me yet, so I’ll be revising him too but yay! (Astro will get really tiny changes probably, giving his cloak that copies his blanket a hood so he can have SOMETHING on his bald head)

Each characters and their tribes though because some of them are cut off

Sprout - Leafwing / Skywing, powerful leafspeak but no skywing abilities. Has big wings though! Currently not under dandys control

Astro - Nightwing / Seawing, born with powerful mind reading to the point of being able to go into others dreams. Animus cursed by dandy with powerful future sight with good intentions, the first to be controlled by dandys own silly version of evil leafspeak. Can’t breath underwater, can’t even breath fire! But can fully speak aquatic if he wanted to.

Dandy - Rainwing / Leafwing, born with absolutely no leafspeak and can’t spit venom but he does have full color changing abilities. Second active threat on the island, supposed to be the “friendly face” you can trust.

Vee - Hivewing / Silkwing, Hivewing stingers in tail and wrists with the abilities that comes with having silkwings antennae. Not under dandys control, but no friendly face either.

——

Cosmo - mudwing, distant nightwing which manifests in some star shaped patterns! Not under dandys control and is actively protected by sprout. Sprout used his animus magic once and that was to create a charm for him to makes sure dandy won’t hurt him

Tisha - Icewing / Leafwing, came to the island with teagan and was her childhood friend and maid. Originally assigned to Teagan as a dragonet to keep them company, and just sorta became her personal maid when they got older. No leafwing ability’s and is cold to the touch. Has icewings frost breath though weakened by her leafwing genes. Not under dandys control

Rodger - Nightwing with future sight, detective and came to the island to get answers. Toodles was not supposed to come with him, but she managed to sneak by and now him and toodles, teagan, and tisha are stuck on the island thanks to vee. Had an ear torn in his youth and early detective days, which is also how he got his eye scar. Not under dandys control.

Glisten - Silkwing / sandwing, pretty much all Silkwing abilities. Has a sandwing barb but it’s ineffective and small, so no sandwing scorpion action going on. Yada yada I already talked about him. His design and traits are made to mirror (heh) vee though, soooo… not under dandys control

Flutter - silkwing, just a small fat fluffy silkwing with big ol eyes. Currently under dandys control, though wasn’t drawn with that in mind (all drawings of these dragons are before things go REALLY bad so far). Overcome by flowers instead of vines.

For your patience with my rambling have some of the design processes for their shapes

[convoloutedinjoke]

Rating Disco Elysium characters based on how funny I think their kinks have the potential to be

Harry: the DSM of getting off on things. He likes piss he likes feet he likes the idea of being soooo small and tiny you could step on him like a bug, and while none of these things are funny on their own they are when he does them on account of his being a clown. He would also fuck a clown, incidentally. 8/10, knocking two points off because this lacks the element of surprise.

Kim: Leather and uniform fetishist. No wise guy shenanigans here. Will fuck you serious will fuck you professional. His strap is extremely normal, his daddy/boy dynamics are not a laughing matter. 4/10 because he wants to have relations with his car and is embarrassed about it

Jean: No idea what gets him off but he genuinely believes whatever it is means he’s evil and weird, making him the proud owner of The Worlds Funniest Kinks. 9/10, steals mustard from the homeless without remorse but has a moral crisis every time he cums while fantasising about getting gangbanged in a holding cell. Sad!

Trant: not funny. too passionately open about the things hes into. if you tried to make light of his trampling fetish, he would recite the wikipedia entry on cock and ball torture to you from memory and look delighted to be sharing his interests with you the whole time. 3/10

Klaasje: not funny to most on account of being conventionally attractive and good at billing her sexual encounters as suffused with romantic, literary ennui but it SHOULD be funny to be such a Lana Del Rey motherfucker in the sheets so I’m pulling rank and saying 7/10

Joyce: cringefail class dynamics fantasies. Bodice rippers and the opposite of CEO erotica feature heavily here. This wouldn’t be funny if not for the fact she literally owns a yacht. Also wants to get stabbed a little bit. 5/10, probably read the elysium version of lady chatterlys lover as a teen and still jerks off about it.

Garte: a normal man if there ever was one. has kinks but they aren't funny. wears a bra sometimes and it looks cute. 1/10 probably fun to hook up with and a decent communicator

The Deserter: given the 5 decades of loneliness, im willing to bet his brain has rewired itself into having some interesting potentially bug-related reward pathways but whatever he's got going on is too sad to laugh about. 0/10 :(

Sunday Friend: his kinks would be funny on anyone else, but he’s very very very boring. 2/10, you can pay a twink to do raceplay with you, but it wont dispel the grey miasma of being a mid tier government employee

evrart: I don’t know honestly, the lying and manipulating and petty power plays scrambled my brain despite the rube-Goldbergian elements of all his little tasks. Maybe he’d do predicament bondage? Uh. 3/10. Id let him hit, but he also has kind of a Wallace n Grommit thing going on so I can’t say 0

Steban: big on role playing but isn’t very good at it. Starts giggling halfway through when it becomes apparent how silly the fake muttonchops are. 4/10, less funny than it could be because he has a sense of humour about it

Ulixes: probably has a guro thing but also hasn’t had sex since he started focusing on reading theory and feints at the sight of real blood. This should be less funny than pretending to be Kras Mazov in bed, but he takes himself extremely seriously. 6/10 until he starts getting laid again, then still 6/10 but for other reasons

Gary: cuck chair. 10/10. I am not elaborating because I’m tired now, but someone else made a convincing post at one point

[nanabansama]

Tsukasa's Winter Uniform

Many people forget, but Tsukasa has appeared in TBHK since the very first chapter. He even shows up before Kou, less you count the pilot adaptation.

The odd thing is, despite Tsukasa later confirming he only wore the winter uniform to match his older brother, Tsukasa shows up in the winter uniform much earlier than their fated rooftop encounter. About a month earlier, at least.

If that weren't enough, he even shows up wearing it in the reflection of Hanako's knife, implying he wore it when he died.

Previously I guessed this was done because AidaIro hadn't finalized the designs of Amane (specifically, alive!Hanako) and Tsukasa yet, but upon further reflection I like to think it was to wordlessly show the deep connection between Hanako and Tsukasa. To leave hints for the reader, and keep them second-guessing.

I mean, who's to say the character handling the radio in Chapter 1 wasn't Hanako? It's unlikely with what we know now, but it's something a lot of people probably thought when they first read it. And I think that's kind of brilliant, given that the twins are mirror images of each other in everything except clothes. When we can't see Tsukasa's identical face, it only makes sense to give them the same clothes.

It's interesting when Tsukasa first shows up on the rooftop, too. Tsukasa has a few differences between himself and his twin, but in this encounter he shares much of the same traits. He lacks his pointy teeth and you can't even see his eyes till the end, which don't even look particularly Tsukasa-like.

The only true major difference is his kokujoudai and the black seal, which really lack any individuality at all... they are just black-colored versions of Hanako's own seal and tsueshiro. It's a very interesting choice; the least I can say is Tsukasa really went all out in matching his brother.

In some ways, it's a bit underwhelming for his face reveal. In others, it's not: I mean, Hanako's murder victim literally shares his face! What a compelling surprise! I can only imagine AidaIro was trying to emphasize this.

Later, Tsukasa returns to the broadcasting club room and catches up with Natsuhiko and Sakura. This is where his individuality begins to shine.

He changes into his hakama outfit, his pupils get tiny or his eyes go completely black, and while not every panel has them he's drawn with his signature pointy canines in a few.

His personality changes, too. You get to see Tsukasa's more childlike, innocent side. He's so much more serious when he's with Hanako, you feel a lot of tension and maybe even resentment there. But here, he becomes so carefree. While the rooftop has him feeling more like a spectre of Hanako's guilt rather than his own person, here it really sinks in that this is not just some recolored Hanako we're dealing with.

On that note, I find it interesting the twins seem more carefree when they're away from each other... hmm...

Anyway, one thing I like about this era of Tsukasa is the art AidaIro made of him. I'm a big fan of early TBHK art, and the matching baggy winter uniforms really look nice together.

I like how this art emphasizes a sort of perverted sentimentality between the two of them. They can't help reaching out to each other. I like how Hanako distinctly doesn't look happy either, something Tsukasa inquires when they meet again. He looks distressed, helplessly so. And he is: he can't break away from his guilt of killing Tsukasa, nor Tsukasa himself, who is content to keep eating away at him while he still can, knowing Amane will be his doom. It's mutual self-destruction--They can't live with each other, can't live without each other...

My love for chapter frontispieces aside, thanks for reading this far! I used to not have much appreciation for Tsukasa's winter uniform but I've come to love its symbolism a lot more as time has gone on. Perhaps I'm reading too deep into things, but what do you think?

Also before anyone tries to tell me the Chapter 17 frontispiece isn't Tsukasa allow me to introduce you to the top right corner:

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

You guys gotta hear me out.

like.

Do you know how SIMILAR Gumball and Nicole are compared to the rest?

Like it's such a cool detail how gumball and Nicole are two distinct characters who have their fun personality and personal depth but are so similar.

Like you can tell that these two are related.

Like seriously, in earlier seasons gumball was more similar to Richard, actually.

He was a sweetheart, naive and always trying to help people because he wanted to. He was very easy to bully and make fun of because he was naive and "stupid" like his father. the only difference is that Richard never stands up for himself, gumball doesn't. There were several times where gumball gets made fun of and he just screams at them to defend himself because there's no Nicole to defend him (and when he doesn't stand up for himself, penny does.)

Which is a trait he most definitely got from Nicole.

But later on? When he gets his iconic sarcastic personality? He's so much like Nicole.

there were many scenes in some episodes where he just is a tiny version of Nicole, it's actually kinda wholesome. Especially if you count that he looks up to her ( thinks she's cool) so he subconsciously mimics her (like children do, in the end. Especially because he didn't have an older sibling to look up to, unlike Darwin and Anais do.)

And like.

I do have some examples.

> This one is my favorite honestly, when gumball had to make everything perfect because penny was coming over, so he took over and asked (ordered) everyone to be perfect.

This resulted in everyone making more chaos than usual because of how pressured they were (and low-key looked mildly scared whenever gumball came over and screamed at them that they had to do better, and faster, because everything has to be perfect.)

there was a point where he literally picked up trash the same size as him and threw it at his mother (because she had to take out the trash) and ended up throwing her and the trash out without much difficulty.

> Gumball variously shapeshifting into some weird monster things whenever he was slightly pissy or annoyed.

This is one example

> just like Nicole, he too can be super athletic. Remember when rob kidnapped Barbara and then threw an entire bus at gumball? Gumball literally did those cool action scenes where he jumps through the bus and walks away like nothing.

Something his mother does a lot

> Both gumball and Nicole have some immense strength, dude. Despite one never actually exercising for it and the other who didn't do any kind of exercise is years.

Just this whole ep where gumball is a sore loser.

> Him when he was younger.

Yes he was hyperactive, but at the same time he managed to do shit only his mother could

(Being super fast, walking on walls and CEILINGS and having the strength to break through doors too((when he was trying to stop Richard from flushing Darwin.)))

Yeah there's probably more but I'm too lazy to look them up.

ANYWAY.

I NEED someone to write idk. A fic about maybe Nicole slowly figuring out (by these points I just said) that gumball is more similar to her than she imaged, and it can either go into something wholesome, or angst. Your choice

[weepingtalecowboy]

“I will go fix my issues”,he lied truthfully

Fanfic prompt : Or legend using the harp of ages to go help his past self after his uncle just died

By pretending he is his mom or something… but a very self hating and salty one who traumatizes his past self more than anything else ever did.

"You ever notice how your ‘uncle’ doesn’t look a thing like you? Wonder why he’s been so… generous? That’s because he bought you. Yes, you, little one, came into his life for the very humble price of a single green rupee and a bag of seeds . Feel special? You should. Those were probably stale seeds at that.”

Cue the young boy’s confused, horrified expression.

“Oh, don't worry, he’s been a decent guardian. Way better than if I’d kept you. I wouldn’t have paid for you at all. Would’ve sold you for even less. But hey, be grateful! Fate did you a kindness.”

Legend is living the dream that everyone had shared at some point to terrorize his past self.

As they trek through the wilds,Legend gives his younger self the kind of guidance you'd expect from someone who didn’t take parenting classes but aced "being a jerk" 101 , so basically just Legend as a person. “Alright, you little whiner, stop crying. People are going to think you’re weak. I mean, you already are, but it’d be nice to pretend. You have to learn to just… deal with it.”

Baby self, who’s just learned to talk: “I hate you.”

Legend, without missing a beat, grins darkly: “Yeah, I figured. That’s what makes you so special. You’re already a natural.”

Legend gives many advice ,that he thought he was teaching important lessons with.

Because he is a good mother.

He ruined his child self's life before the little guy even got beaten up by a guard.

Seeing his baby self—this pathetic, sad, scared little creature—is like looking at a version of himself that he desperately wants to erase from his memory. The fact that the baby version is so utterly harmless, so completely incapable of being a threat, makes Legend reach levels of contempt for the world never encountered before What world worth saving would ever consider this—this tiny, weak, helpless thing—a target for execution. His own actions, his whole history, his entire existence as a hero... they pale in comparison to how much he despises the weakness of his own past.

When he eventually encountered one he had to watch the gruesome scene of Legend incinerating one , it was fucking personal , the sheer amount of blood was making him feel… not good to say the least.

He did not want the other to follow him but he was very much baby and pretty sure that he would rather stand behind the one who was brutally beating up people then in front of him.

Legend really tries to be nice … but he is Legend and saltier than the namesake salt itself.

“Oh, you’re hungry? Yeah, well, get used to it. You’ll figure out how to go without food soon enough. It builds character. Or you could cry about it like you always do. See how far that gets you.” He offers a piece of dry bread, throwing it on the ground in front of him, just out of reach.

He is too salty for child rearing, no wonder his baby self is continuously crying behind him , and very much wincing internally when Link flinches from him.

The dark world section was even worse.