#they just don't know yet what a ruler Dream is. :)

[waitineedaname]

i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Aegon with barkeep reader—you aren't getting paid enough for this.

Yandere Aegon always escaped to Fleabottom to indulge in pleasures and escape painful memories. The weight of the crown on his head nearly snapped his neck every time he was forced to wear it. Yet here, in Dragon Breaths Tavern, he was simply another stranger within the crowd of thousands. He always chose to conceal his appearance, but his voice was always what gave him away.

He has a favorite barkeep: you.

You always listen to his ramblings. You make sure he has somewhere to sleep when he is far too intoxicated to escape back to the castle. You're irritable and snap at people. It's hot. You never let anyone get away with anything in the bar, not even him. 

Mhm.

He'd whine your name in the middle of the night when his mind was far too gone to care about the possible consequence.

Yandere Aegon is incredibly talkative while drunk. His depression, or known at that time as just an incurable sadness, was on full display. He'd ask for your strongest drink and order so many that he forgot his name and title. It was almost endearing. He'd babble on about what made him sad, and you'd listen attentively.

You didn't have to worry much about people realizing he was the king. The ones that did disappeared. They were murdered, most likely.

You may have no formal education, but that doesn't make you completely inept.

You could see the unhinged glint in his violet irises. You could tell he was getting attached. You just couldn't do much about it. You need the job, and he never forgets to give you a hefty tip for your service.

Yandere Aegon has propositioned you on multiple occasions. Most of the time he's plastered, a handful he's not. He always gives you a sly smile and some fleeting touches. You scolding him only makes him want you more. He's hard more than he's drunk.

Whether you agreed to it or not, the only difference is time. If you love him, then you get your freedom just a bit longer. If you're stubborn about your love, then he'll make sure there are chains around your hands, ankles, and most importantly, heart.

Yandere Aegon makes you take a job in the castle. You become the cupbearer. It's a job that doesn't bring much excitement, unless you count pompous nobles talking through their asses 'excitement'. You make a good amount of coin. Your social status rises faster than a dragon taking to air.

Your own room. A room near Aegon's.

It is as if he purposefully thinned the walls, much to your displeasure. You can hear the moans from whores and Aegon alike during the hours when everyone is given rest. It's an endless torture that slips into your dreams, making them wetter than you've ever dreamt before.

Yandere Aegon has many people thinking it is inappropriate to have a commoner suddenly peak the king's interest so blatantly. You are no longer the dirt on the bottom of the nobility's shoe. You are almost equal, if not greater, due to the protection you are afforded by the ruler.

Rumors aren't needed. They will say their peace to your face. They don't fluff it up with their frivolously sacchariferous words. Those who dare are crude and ruthless.

The next day they'll end up with their heads on pikes outside the castle.

Yandere Aegon wants you as a second spouse. He fucks other whores, but only because he can't have you all day and night. He'll stop after the both of you get married. He knows it's a pipdream. He's the king, though.

Who is going to stop him?

It's not going to be Alicent or Otto.

He's not letting Aemond fucking touch you. Asshole tried to char him once. He got out with multiple scars, but he is able to walk and is still quite a looker. Aemond won't steal you. He'll the gut the fucker before it comes to that.

Yandere Aegon just needs alcohol and you. It's the only two things that're keeping him securely tethered to this world. Your specialty is alcohol. It's a match made in the heavens.

tags: ( @kawaiicoffeedream ) & ( @littybeech )

[a-d-nox]

astro hypothesis: what's your ideal bedroom like?

once upon a time (a year ago) i spoke of using your house rulers to deep dive into the story of the houses. i did a hypothesis about money and another about careers - but what about your home? for that take a look at your 4h and the persona chart of its ruler (ex: my 4h is in gemini, i will be looking at my mercury persona chart NOT my ic persona (thats more family and childhood dynamics in my opinion)).

today i want to focus on somewhere critical to all of us - our bedroom. you can look at the 12h and/or the moon in this chart to get a better idea of what your ideal bedroom looks like or should be like to feel most rested and comfortable.

why?

the 12h rules over solitude (where you might go to escape everyone else in your household), the subconscious (where we supposedly go in deep sleep), etc.

the moon rules over comfort (what we find comfort in), the subconscious (which connects again to deep sleep and dreaming), cycles and rhythms (hi sleep cycle and circadian rhythm), etc.

so here are some observations of what i believe to be important to a room based on these factors in your 4h ruler's persona chart.

a capricorn (10°, 22°) moon / 12h saturn / capricorn 12h / moon aspecting saturn person likely wants a minimal room. they don't what a lot of clutter - if their room is cluttered they might be experiencing a lot of waking/life stress/anxiety that is effecting their sleep. they like neutral and natural colors in a room - beiges, "agreeable grey", dark green, and dark blues in particular allows them to feel calm and as though they are able to relax. arctic white paint or cool white light may trigger them into feeling like they are in work mode instead of relax mode. they seek quality furniture that is timeless - they don't want to constantly have to replace the pieces they have in their room because they don't last or no longer fit the style. they don't want to have to think at the end of the day that something broke or they hate a piece because it doesn't fit the trend anymore and they now have to replace it. they don't want another thing they have to do, they just want to crash. organization is key - everything in their room should have a spot. they want everything that belongs in there to have a place (books are organized by author/series, clothing is color/season organized, glasses have a spot on a side table, jewelry has an organizer that rarely changes, etc). there is often a very refined and elegant feeling to their room. the sheets have a classic design (they are white or white and grey), the mirror is elegant yet classic, the bed is simple yet fits and fills the space well, etc. and most importantly room darkening curtains and lots of blankets (no capricorn/saturn person wants to be awakened by the sun or because they are too cold at night)!!!

a gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) moon / 12h mercury / gemini 12h / moon aspecting mercury person might have a rather eclectic style in their room. it might feel like they are testing out a look or like they have a lot of different vibes that don't necessarily fit one another. color finds its way into this room no matter what and it is often multiple colors at once that draw a person's attention. its very strange because this space is never just a sleep space for them often its multi-functional in some way shape or form like they have the ability to have a sitting space for others... could be a chair or a window seat or a desk... speaking of desks - books, vinyl, cds, gadgets, etc are a big part of the gemini/mercury vibes in a space. often their media have a spotlight moment in a room. lastly this space has an air of awareness in it - its not totally sleepy vibes, you know for sure when you see this space its not just for sleep. this is a place of study, reading, music listening, etc. it might just feel like not much sleep occurs in the space at all!

leo (5°, 17°, 29°) moon / 12h sun / leo 12h / moon aspecting sun rooms are warm and inviting. there are likely gold elements or warm paint colors used in the room. luxury is a must - the bed is likely memory foam or plush - the pillows are probably hotel/high quality. the comforter is down feathers and/or a fluffy/fuzzy blanket is present. it is very likely that stuffed animals are present too or at least one that is too adorable not to be there. there is some sort of central piece in this room - a giant mirror, a big art piece over the bed, a grand wall of books, etc. something in the room is guaranteed to always get a compliment from people who peak in during a house tour. it is also rather common especially in younger years for these people to keep their awards/trophies on display in their room as it fills them with a great sense of pride. windows are very important to this person's bedroom too as they tend to enjoy natural light when they can get it.

aries (1°, 13°, 25°) moon / 12h mars / aries 12h / moon aspecting mars people love a bold look in their room. its the energy of platform beds, industrial metal frames, etc. if they can use an "aggressive" color (red, orange, yellow, etc) in a bedroom they will... however they like a modern and sleek look despite their bold color schemes. they also like a minimal room - the bedroom is for their bed - point, blank, period. it's about having the essentials nothing more nothing less. they won't being using decorative pillows they have to remove every night or a decorative blanket that just hangs over their footboard. heavens forbid a decorative ladder with a decorative blanket that's not for use but for the eye. if they can't use it, they don't need or want it in the space it will just make them annoyed and cause them to feel like everything is in the way of them getting to the relax/wind-down portion of their day. now strangely enough, they often workout in their bedroom, so it wouldn't be shocking to find a pull up bar in the doorway or a peloton bike in the corner of the room. and 10/10 they will be getting up using an alarm - but it is rather unlikely they will need multiple alarms to make them get out of their bed in the morning.

likely more to come on home hypotheses, as i look to make renovations to my own home despite/because of being creatively burnt out. thank the heavens for astrology doing the leg work.

-a.d.

click here for the masterlist

click here for more of nox's hypotheses

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© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[legendofmorons]

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (Epilogue)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: description of hard childbirth, fluffy sex, hate sex, smut, angst, kid catching his parents having sex, anxiety, depression, childhood feeling of rejection ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

We have reached the end of this journey: I hope this epilogue gives you a taste of what their family life was like. I had a lot of fun writing this from three perspectives and I think it's a great ending to this series. Thank you to everyone who was with me and supported me. You may cry that the main series is over, but there are still two modern AUs in which we will see Aemond and Rhaenys again!

Aemond & Rhaenys's Children Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond

It turned out that there was a role that terrified him more than being a ruler-regent alongside his wife and it was fatherhood. He was ashamed to admit it, but it was easier for him to understand the needs of the kingdom than his own son.

He was dominated above all by a sense of terror which made him freeze all over, not knowing what to do or how to behave. He first felt it when his niece suggested that he should take their newborn child into his arms.

"I don't know. You better hold him." He muttered, seeing in his mind all the possibilities of what he could do wrong and inadvertently hurt their son. His wife looked at him indulgently.

"Come here. Sit next to me." She said, encouraging him with a nod. He pressed his lips together, tense, and approached her slowly, sitting down beside her on the soft bedding. Viserys yawned loudly, twisting in his mother's arms, calm and content, his belly full of her milk.

He swallowed hard, horrified when she shifted towards him, wanting to hand him the infant in his hands. He immediately put his arms under him, afraid to drop him.

"Put his head here, on the bend of your arm. Just like that, support him with your hand on the other side. There you go." She said warmly, pleased at this sight. His heart stopped in his throat as her hands let go of his small body and his son remained in his embrace.

He was afraid that without his mother's familiar presence his son would begin to cry and become anxious, but he slept peacefully, snuggling into his leather tunic.

He was ashamed to feel the emotion and the burning tears under his eyelids looking at his small face, his tiny hands clenched into fists, thinking how great a burden was on him, though he did not yet know it.

On his son.

He swallowed hard when he felt his wife's hand on his back, her temple pressed against his cheek, looking at the scene.

"Isn't he beautiful?" She asked softly, and he was silent for a moment, feeling that he was struggling to find the right words to answer her.

"It's the most beautiful, innocent being I've ever seen in my life." He muttered and closed his eye in surrender, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. She heard his heavy, uneven breath and leaned in, wanting to see his face.

"– oh, my love – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered tenderly, placing warm, wet, lingering kisses on his cheek. He snuggled his face into her neck, wanting as always to hide from his fear, insecurity and pain in her familiar vanilla-scented flesh.

From that moment on, holding Viserys no longer frightened him so much – what's more, he felt a sense of satisfaction when his son squirmed and squealed at the sight of him, happy, reaching out his small, chubby little hands to him, longing to be in his arms.

His father had never done that, but he had no intention of making his mistakes.

For this reason he took turns reading to him at bedtime with his wife. Sitting on his lap, Viserys gazed with big eyes at the richly illustrated legends of their ancestors, his little legs willowing in excitement every time dragons appeared on the pages of the book.

"Soon your dragon will hatch." He whispered in his ear, pointing his finger at a large vessel hanging over the hearth with a dragon egg inside, Daemon's gift to his grandson.

"You will fly in the skies. You will be king of the Seven Kingdoms. You will be fearless, fair, loved. I will be by your side." He hummed and kissed his plump, pink cheek.

His wife watched them with a smile, relaxing in a warm bath after a long, tiring day full of their duties.

The evenings, nights and mornings were just for them.

For their family.

She finally stood up from the water, throwing only a soft, cream-coloured robe over her body, tying it around her waist, reaching out her hands for their son, who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"Don't wake him." He mumbled out in pain, purposely not moving from his seat unwilling to interrupt his slumber, handing Viserys to her. She laughed quietly under her breath, walking with their child towards the bed, sitting down on the sheets.

"I won't. Our little boy will eat his meal in his sleep." She hummed, slipping the sleeve of her robe off her shoulder, revealing her sweet, plump breast, all swollen with milk.

He swallowed hard, watching enthralled as his son, still asleep, in a natural reflex clamped his lips around her nipple and began to suckle with a purr of satisfaction.

He was ashamed of how he himself loved tasting her now, how warm and sweet her milk was melting on his tongue, how hard he was getting at the very thought that as soon as she laid their son down in the cradle, he would sink deep between her thighs as he did every night, cuddled into her fragrant body, listening to her sweet moans, only to fill her again with his seed.

The news that his wife was expecting his child again filled them with joy, and the birth of their third son reassured the entire kingdom – Viserys, Aegon and Daeron had secured the line of succession.

However, this time his niece endured the hardships of childbirth worse than before.

"Aemond!" He heard her desperate cry from behind the door of her chamber and, despite his brother's attempts to stop him, he walked inside.

He was horrified to see her blood all around her, her face at once pale and red from tears of exertion, her swollen lips parted in loud, pitiful moans.

"– uncle – the baby won't come out – oh gods, oh gods, oh gods –" She muttered, tilting her head back in a sudden panic attack, her mother began to comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand in her own.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed, grasping her hand in his.

"– I'm here – I'm so sorry, my sweetest – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled out in a trembling voice, cradling her in his arms, feeling her go breathless all over, a squeal escaping her lips and a quiver of discomfort as another contraction shook her body.

"– fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gods, please! –" She sobbed, and all he could do was cuddle his face into her hair, his heart pouding like a mad in horror.

He wasn't sure he'd experienced anything more terrifying, more heartbreaking in his entire life.

"– just a little more – I can see the head – there it is, push, Princess, push now –" She commanded, and by some effort incomprehensible to him, after several attempts, his niece forced his son out into the world, who wept loudly in Alys Rivers' arms.

"– he has your hair, Princess –" She whispered, and his wife breathed a sigh of relief, wailing loudly from the exhaustion, horror and pain her whole body went through.

Alicent and Rhaenyra promised to look after their children so that their mother would have a few days to recover – Viserys and Aegon were only allowed to see her for a moment, once the bedding had been changed and he had helped her dress in a clean, snow-white nightgown.

"– I envy him – your dark hair is more to my liking –" Aegon muttered, glancing over Alicent's shoulder at the infant she held in her arms.

"– enough – your mother needs to rest –" He said shakily, unable to pull himself together after what had happened, seeing with what difficulty his niece was smiling at their sons, trying to pretend that all was well.

He knew it wasn't.

She burst out crying in his arms as soon as they were alone, panting and whooping with her tears, his hands stroking her back and hair tenderly, trying to soothe her.

"– I'm so sorry – I know, my love – shhh – I'm here –" He whispered, kissing the top of her head again and again. His niece swallowed loudly, trying to catch her breath.

"– forgive me – forgive me for making you watch this –" She muttered helplessly, as if she was ashamed that she had forced him to look at something that was meant only for the eyes of women.

"– no – I would not forgive myself if you had to go through this alone – my sweet, brave wife – now just rest –" He whispered. She breathed a loud sigh of relief and snuggled into him, calming down slowly, exhausted after the hardships of childbirth and the emotions she had experienced.

He carried her in his arms because she couldn't get up or sit up, helped her bathe, change and eat, wanting her to know that her suffering and sacrifice for him and their family was not indifferent to him. Knowing that she needed rest, for days he would fall asleep by her side stroking her head, shoulders and back, letting her sink into the safe embrace of his arms.

However, he couldn't help what he felt as he looked at her, that he desired her and her body, that he wanted to touch her.

That he wanted to make love to her.

At some point, he realised that the desire she aroused in him was different than it had been at first: from a fiery, burning feeling of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit again and again, his needs had changed over the years and he knew that no other woman could satisfy them.

It was not because he did not find other women beautiful or worthy of desire, but because only her body brought him solace, only her hands touched him in a way that made him hot, only her scent sent shivers down his spine, only her bright eyes shone with a wonderful warmth at the sight of him.

Her insides were always ready to receive him, silky, moist and hot, giving him a sense of security, her naked body soft and inviting – his manhood, already without his mind's involvement, reacted with a joyful, excited pulsing and twitching in his breeches at the sight of her, equating her with the pleasure he experienced every time.

He concluded that, just as men became addicted to wine or cards, he became addicted to his wife's closeness.

Therefore, he couldn't explain to his painfully swollen erection why suddenly, despite his wife's constant presence next to him, he couldn't touch her and had to be patient: he craved her constantly and died lying next to her, unable to sleep from the tension.

One night his niece, feeling the way his swollen length was pushing, tucked into his breeches, against her stomach, took pity on him, gripping his fat, warm manhood in her hand. He moaned like a helpless little boy, rolling his hips to the rhythm of her strokes, her fingers giving him an encouraging, assured squeezes at the base making his heart begin to pound like mad.

"– please –" He muttered, his hand sinking into her smooth hair, his lips, puffy with desire, found hers in a hot, wet, sticky kiss full of their teeth and tongues.

His wife knew his manhood well – she teased the head of it, leaking with his desire, with her thumb, making it pulsate all over and tremble in her embrace, her tongue gently licking his, making him fall apart in front of her after a moment, desperate. He groaned with a loud sigh of pleasure, closing his eye in relief when he felt his hot seed spurt out onto her nightgown.

"– fuck –" He gasped, feeling a complete and wonderful emptiness in his head, her small body snuggled into his.

He heard her smile.

"Try to sleep now, husband."

That night, indeed, he slept a stony sleep like a small child.

Over the following months, they both slowly pushed the boundary: his niece again let his fingers sink tentatively into her fleshy, velvety folds, his fingers teased her nipples when, after his tender treatments, she finally reached fulfilment in his arms, moaning his name loudly.

"– put it inside me, uncle – please –" She mumbled helplessly one night, rocking her hips so that again and again her buttocks rubbed against his yearningly swollen manhood.

"– I can't, my sweetest – not yet –" He muttered – her small hand clenched on his arm which embraced her, her warm womanhood all pulsing, leaking with her sticky wetness under his fingers.

"– please – please, husband, I can't take it anymore –" She cried out in despair – he grasped her cheeks in his hand and twisted her face, only then seeing that tears were running from her eyes.

"– are you sure? –" He muttered in a trembling voice, feeling his whole manhood tremble and pulsate with desire, dreaming only of sinking into her warm walls again. His niece nodded her head quickly, making him grin involuntarily.

"– this little cunt misses me so much? –" He murmured affectionately and she nodded again, her pink, puffy lips parted in a sigh as the tips of his two fingers began to stretch her swollen, wet slit.

"– come here –" He murmured and she cried out loudly as he released his swollen erection from his breeches in a sure, aggressive motion, dreaming of feeling her this way again for weeks, immediately directing the head of his cock dripping from his moisture onto her tight, throbbing opening.

The feeling of being deep inside her again was an almost spiritual sensation – they both sighed and groaned as if relieved that they could be one body, one person again.

"– that's it – there you go –" He gasped, rolling his hips, sliding slowly deep into her only to slide out of her almost fully a moment later, again and again opening her swollen entrance on his thick, pulsing erection with the quiet clicks of her wetness.

"– good gods – I didn't fill you for so fucking long – my poor wife left without my seed –" He muttered with difficulty, his eyes closed while he longed to focus only on this, on her warm, soft, moist walls squeezing him greedily where it was so safe, so good, thrusting into her more and more confidently, feeling the familiar tightness in his stones proving that he was surprisingly close to reach his peak.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, and nothing more than their sighs, moans and cries left their throats until they came together, panting heavily, all soaking wet and hot from the exertion.

His arms embraced her tightly, his lips placed quick, hot kisses on her shoulders as his chest clung to her back, their legs entwined together in disarray.

"– gods, I missed you –"

Viserys

Viserys knew no other married couple who behaved as his parents did in the solitude of their chambers. He had witnessed many times conversations between his mother and his father, the fearless, menacing One-Eyed Prince, rider of the mightiest dragon walking on the world.

He could hear the man he feared and admired at the same time listening silently to his wife's words, her comments on his decisions and their validity.

His mother had never challenged him in public during the meetings of the Small Council, but she did so often when they were already left alone, and his father, to his surprise, did not explode with anger, as was his custom, but listened to her with calmness and respect.

His father allowed himself to be touched only by his wife – only she could take his hand, stroke his cheek, sit on his lap when they thought no one could see.

He had witnessed them embrace, his father's lips pressed against her ear as he stood behind her back, his hands met with hers on her lower abdomen, stroking her skin hidden beneath her night robe, his words meant only for her.

Only once had he seen his father terrified: when his mother, standing by his side in the throne room as they listened to the lords' speeches, suddenly fainted, unaware that she was already carrying his sister in her womb at the time.

He remembered that the day had been exceptionally hot, and his mother had been feeling ill since the morning: in accordance with the agreement, neither she nor her husband could sit on the Iron Throne, so they stood before it during a gathering of the whole court.

His father, usually cool and composed in his actions, rushed towards her to catch her, and then began shouting at the guards to lead the lords out of the room and bring in the maester immediately.

Viserys sat by her bed with his younger brother, Aegon, holding her hand in his, listening in silence to the exchange between his father, the maester and his grandfather.

"The Queen Regent should not strain herself. She is expecting your child, Your Grace."

"So soon?" Mumbled his father, as if surprised – his youngest brother, Daeron, had been born only five months earlier.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Are you surprised? Don't you know how children are brought into this world?" Daemon hissed.

Viserys and Aegon pressed their lips together, looking in horror at their father, who was staring at their grandfather wide-eyed, breathing heavily, furious.

He had never heard anyone speak to him this way before.

His father looked away as if he felt ashamed, bitter apparently at having contributed to his wife's suffering.

His mother awoke after a few hours, but she was weak and the maester ordered that she should lie in bed for a few days and gain strength.

His father gave up his daily routine to simply sit by her side, sinking into reading great volumes about the history of Essos.

He wanted to make his mother smile and lift her spirits, however, he had no idea how he could do this and was afraid to ask his father.

He decided to seek a woman's advice.

"If your mother was tired and sad, what would you give her?" He asked Alyssa, sitting with her on the grass under one of the trees. His cousin pressed her lips together, swinging her legs, lying on her stomach.

"Field flowers. Or cakes. No, some beautiful letter. Or you could recite her a poem!" She began to quickly throw out ideas, excited, her blue eyes bright and beautiful, her long white eyelashes and hair pinned up in a braid glistening in the sun.

"I'd rather it be that one thing." He muttered, not wanting to make a jester of himself in front of his father.

"Field flowers." Alyssa decided.

"How will I know which ones are the right ones?" He asked reluctantly, as a man never delving into these, in his mind, girly, tendentious matters.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his cousin suggested they go to the gardens and pick them together.

Already standing outside the door of his parents' chamber, he began to feel doubts about whether what he wanted to do was a good idea.

What if his father will think that he is weak?

That he is behaving like a little girl?

If he looks at him with disapproval and embarrassment?

"My Prince?" He heard a voice behind him and saw a smiling woman, one of his mother's servants, who had apparently brought her warm soup.

He could no longer escape or retreat, so he went inside with her.

His father rose from his seat, his face expressing cold frustration.

"Why did it take so long?" He asked, the woman lowered her head.

"Forgive me, Your Grace."

"What is it?" He turned his words to him, looking at what he held in his hands. He swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks turn red with shame.

"Flowers for my mother. I wanted to make her smile." He muttered. His father blinked, silent for a moment.

"Good. Go to her. But don't torment her for too long. She needs to rest." His father said, and he nodded quickly, feeling the hard pounding of his heart, all hot with terror.

His mother was delighted with his bouquet composed of carnations, daisies, poppies and dandelions, her warm smile and look full of tenderness made him immediately calm down.

"Thank you, sweet boy." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her soft, familiar hand. She wanted to embrace him, but he moved away involuntarily, because he didn't want her to do this in front of his father.

Nine months later, his first little sister, Visenya, was born.

He remembered only a few years of his life during which his mother had not been with child.

He did not understand why, when he already had four siblings – two brothers and two sisters – there was still a need for more to be born.

Aegon, his brother, once told him that it was because of what married couples did at night – the septon explained to him that offspring resulted from a marital, physical union.

When he was sure he was alone in the library, he read in shame a small volume devoted to the begetting of descendants. He felt disgust and discomfort when he read about a man inserting part of his body between the woman's thighs, filling her with his seed.

It sounded foreign and unpleasant, and he wondered more and more whether his mother was actually in pain and needed to experience a bit of rest.

He dared to raise the issue one day during their supper together, which was a great mistake on his part.

"Aren't you tired, Mother?" He asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She and his father looked at him puzzled, his father having just handed her a tray of goose pate.

"What do you mean, my love?" She asked softly, as always looking at him with a tenderness and attention that made him feel safe.

He swallowed hard, looking reproachfully at his father, who was just taking a deep sip of wine, watching him vigilantly, his healthy eye shining uneasily in the firelight.

His father was mysterious, distant, beyond comprehension.

Cold.

Frightening.

"I struggle to recall a time during which you did not carry a child inside you. After all, your inheritance is secured, shouldn't you be able to rest at last?" He asked, bewildering his mother. His father pressed his lips into a thin line, frustrated by his remark, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"Don't ever address me or your mother this way again. Apologise to her immediately for your inappropriate words." His father said slowly and coolly in a manner from which an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his eye wide open.

"Aemond." His mother turned to him, stroking anxiously her slightly rounded abdomen.

His father looked at her and licked his lower lip, silent – he knew that they communicated now, as they were sometimes in the habit of doing, by sight alone, without using words.

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to explain to your first-born son why I carry your child inside me again?" She asked with emphasis, her husband's lips curved in displeasure.

His father looked at him with a gaze from which he lowered his head, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart – he heard him lift the cup to his lips and take a deep sip of wine from it.

"There is no need."

Although when he was a little infant he had been in his father's arms as often as he had been in his mother's, the more he matured the more distant his father's figure seemed to become, inaccessible as a stone fortress.

They spent time together during sparring in the courtyard, where he trained him in the wielding of the sword, and while studying the language of Old Valyria, bent over old tomes.

His father was a strict and demanding teacher – although he never humiliated him or mocked him, he could see when his father was frustrated and he suffered deeply because of it.

He knew that there was only a three years left until he would be crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms and felt that he did not deserve it. It seemed to him that his father, looking at him, thought the same thing.

Compared to him, he was weak.

How could he surpass the greatest warrior in the world, able to speak as much about war as history or philosophy, knowing the language of their ancestors, riding the mighty Vhagar?

"Father does not love me." He muttered once, when they were alone in his chamber and his mother was helping him dress before they all set off for the Great Sept. She shook her head, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"Your father loves you, Viserys. He cares about everything about you, but he can't show it." She said, looking at him in pain.

"He can show it to you, Mother." He replied reproachfully, not understanding why he did not have as much understanding and patience for him as he did for her.

She was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the stone floor beneath his feet.

"I am his wife. We are connected by a different bond, the kind that a man and a woman share." She explained, and he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"No. He just loves you more than any of us." He replied dryly, pulling himself out of her embrace and walked out of the chamber, fastening the buckles of his tunic himself.

He was now thirteen years old, he was already a man and his mother, no matter how much he loved her, no longer had to help him dress as if he were a small child.

One evening, as he was about to inform his parents of his decision as to the guest list for the celebration of his Name Day, he heard from behind the door of their quarters sounds that disturbed him.

It seemed to him that his mother was moaning in pain.

When he opened them quietly and peeked inside, he saw his father's body from the side, pressing his mother to the bed, his hips rocking inside her in quick, deep thrusts with loud clicks of something wet and sticky, his hand holding her cheeks between his fingers in an iron grip as he looked down at her.

Although he always wore it in their presence, now he didn't have his eye patch on his face.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed maliciously, pounding into her aggressively, making his mother squirm beneath him, driving her short nails into his shoulders as if trying to defend herself.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled, panting loudly, her breath heavy and ragged, droplets of sweat on her skin.

Why was he hurting her?

Should he scream, come inside, tell him to stop?

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and moaning along with her as the bed began to creak loudly under them with each of his thrusts, his mother tilting her head back and closing her eyes, an expression on her face that he didn't understand.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, pressing her husband's body against hers, crossing her legs over his bare back as if she didn't want to let him go, and after a moment they both made loud, almost animal-like sounds as if relieved, and his father's body fell on top of her without strength.

He swallowed hard, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart as he saw his father's hand brush his mother's cheek, his lips placing tender, lazy, loud kisses on her face as if she were a small child, whispering something to her.

His healthy eye opened suddenly, his pupil narrowed in shock when he saw him standing in the threshold of their chamber.

He ran away quickly, terrified, thinking his father would kill him with his own hands.

He trembled as he ran back into his chamber, sitting down on the bed, feeling that he was quivering with fear.

That his father would surely deprive him of his throne and banish him for what he had done, that he dared to look at their naked bodies like some disgusting sinner.

He shuddered and jumped up in his seat when, a moment later, the door opened and indeed his father stood in it, already wearing a shirt and breeches, his sapphire glowed in the warm firelight.

He curled into himself, prepared for his blow or scream, but his father just stood there looking at him, breathing heavily.

He sighed loudly and closed the door behind him, then walked slowly towards him, surprising him by sitting down next to him. For a moment he sat bent over, leaning on his elbows with his face hidden between his hands.

He finally looked at him and, to his surprise, he did not see rage in his gaze.

"Viserys. These are intimate moments meant only for my and your mother's eyes. What came to your mind to do this?" He said coolly but calmly.

He swallowed hard, red with shame, feeling that he was shaking, trying not to cry like a little girl out of fear.

"I thought… I thought you were hurting my mother. That's what it sounded like. Like she was in pain." He muttered.

His father pressed his lips together and licked his lower lip, then nodded.

"I see. It's good that you care about your mother's safety and want to protect her. However, know that I would never hurt her." He finally replied.

"Then why did she suffer?" He asked further trying to understand what he had actually seen.

His father sighed, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails as he always did when he felt discomfort.

"She didn't suffer. When we are very close, we experience pleasure so strong that it borders on pain."

"Is that why mother is expecting a baby again?" He asked quietly, and his father swallowed hard, tense.

"Yes."

"Is what you are doing... a sin?" He asked in a trembling voice, his father throwing him a quick, surprised look.

"No. Not when it takes place between husband and wife. It's… you cannot be closer to another human being than during this act. Me and your mother want to be as close as possible and we derive pleasure from it."

They both remained in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

He felt that this was his chance, an opportunity to ask his father about all the things he had been unable to comprehend and had never had the courage to bring up in his presence.

"Why do you call my mother Rhaenys? After all, that is not her real name, is it?" He asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

His father swallowed hard, staring dully ahead, thoughtful.

"For me, it is."

"Don't you like her real name?" He continued, trying hard to get anything out of him.

"She always said she wanted to be like Rhaenys, the younger sister and also one of Aegon the Conqueror's two wives. She called herself that to frustrate me, because I always said I would rather one day have a woman like Visenya as my betrothed. She used to call herself that in the letters she sent to me."

"Letters? My mother sent you letters?" He asked, surprised, hearing about it for the first time.

His father fell silent for a long moment.

"Yes. More than fifty over eight years. I never wrote her back to any of them."

He blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Why? Didn't you love her back then?"

There was a kind of sadness, weariness and regret on his father's face that he saw for the first time in his life.

"Quite the opposite."

"Then why? She must have been so sad."

"She was."

He lowered his gaze, thinking with despondency that his father's mind was indeed beyond comprehension.

"When she appeared after eight years in the Red Keep, I asked her if she still wanted to marry me. And she, despite everything, still wanted to. Your mother always showed me more understanding than I deserved." He stated finally.

He nodded at his words.

"How did you know for certain that she would become your wife?" He asked uncertainly, playing with his fingers in a reflex he inherited from him. His father lowered his head, thoughtful.

"Your grandfather the King betrothed us when we were still small children." He replied.

"When you betroth me, will I also be that close to my wife?" He continued, and his father nodded.

"Yes. You will beget your offspring together and prolong your lineage." His father said.

"Will I also feel pleasure from her closeness as you feel it with my mother?" He asked uncertainly. His father pressed his lips together and scratched his chin, tense.

"I don't know."

His answer sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"I want to have a wife like you, Father. I want to love her." He whispered, thinking about Alyssa, about what he felt when he heard her light laughter, when saw her smile full of warmth and sympathy.

She was full of understanding and joy, always eager to listen to him and his, in his mind very adult, problems and musings.

It seemed to him that his father's breath had become louder, but he didn't dare look at him.

"I can't promise you that."

He squeezed his eyes shut at his words, unable to stand it any longer, warm, burning tears running down his face. He felt like a little child, but there was nothing he could do about it, because he was suffering.

"How am I going to be a King without a Queen to worship and love? How will I make you proud if I feel lonely and weak next to her? I want to be able to love someone just like you. I don't want to be alone all my life like I am now."

"You are not alone."

"I am alone. For you, I am only the effect of your pleasure and the relief of the Kingdom. You love only my mother. You see only her. You trust only her. You look only at her."

"That is not true. I watch over you even though you don't realise it. I am trying to make you strong so that the crown, when it is finally placed on your head, will not crush you. You are my first-born son. We have awaited your birth like a miracle." His father said. He shuddered when he felt his hand on his head, and then his strong arm drew him close, letting him cry into his chest.

He stroked his hair and his back the way his mother always did, feeling him place his forehead on the top of his head.

"I love you, but I cannot be weak in front of the court. You will understand me when you become king and father yourself." He said, and he nodded, snuggling into him tighter, his strong arms giving him the feeling that he was safe, that nothing threatened him.

"– my son –" He said in a way from which he felt warmth in his heart, pride and acceptance, the closeness of a man who in his eyes was closer to gods than men.

"I will not fail you, Father."

Rhaenys 

Between looking after her first-born son and bearing her husband another child, she had to focus on helping him create the Small Council from scratch. According to her mother's will, they were both to be equal rulers as regents, and her uncle did not give the impression of being humiliated by this fact.

On the contrary, he relied on her advice and opinion more than she expected.

"Daemon cannot become the Hand of The King. He is too unpredictable. We need someone who is calm and composed. Putting your mother or my brother in that position could lead to further divisions, which we don't want. The person who takes over this role should be as neutral as possible." He said, pacing around the room, immersed in his thoughts. She sighed heavily, stroking her slightly rounded belly, inside of which her second son, Aegon, was growing slowly.

He knew he was made for long disputes about the role and amount of taxes, armies, harvests and all the needs of the kingdom, analysing it for hours on end, however diplomacy was not his domain and in this aspect he left a wide berth to her.

"The Queen Who Never Was. She will take neither side. Let her husband remain the Master of Ships. Let Daemon be, as he was in your father's reign, the Master of Laws – a sign of our respect for tradition, a tribute to King Viserys, who betrothed us. Let Borros Baratheon have his place according to your agreement so that he does not undermine our marriage. He is a stern and honourable man, so let him take charge of our treasury and become the Master of Coin. Let my mother and your brother be honorary members of the Small Council, without function, of equal position."

She said, spreading out comfortably in her chair. Her husband hummed under his breath and nodded, as if he recognised that, indeed, what she was saying was logical. He stopped in half a step, looking blankly at her abdomen.

"Pillows." He muttered more to himself than to her, as if he had realised something.

She raised herself up on her elbows and blinked as he took some from their bed and walked over to her, sliding them under her back for her comfort. She smiled involuntarily at his subconscious concern.

"I am grateful to you, husband."

"My mother insists that Criston Cole remain a member of the Kingsguard, but only as her sworn protector. I have decided that Ser Harrold Westerling should be reappointed Lord Commander in his place." He said, running his fingers over her lower abdomen, swollen from his legacy.

She nodded her head at his words.

"Yes. Ser Harrold is a man of honour."

They looked at each other for a moment, somehow surprised at the ease with which they had come to discuss this.

The prospect of building the Kingdom anew and the perspective of argument and tension frightened them, they were, however, closer to each other than ever.

With the birth of her third son, Daeron, the entire Red Keep breathed a sigh of relief, resolving the last remaining tensions between the Black and Green factions.

Her son refused to leave her womb for a long time, tormenting her for hours, but finally, with the help of Alys, who had come from Dragonstone especially to accompany her through this ordeal, her dark-haired son, came into the world.

The entire court rejoiced in the thought that their three sons secured the line of succession.

It seemed to her that the Red Keep was now divided into three parts: in one, the most representative, intended for the King and Queen, she resided with her husband and their three sons; in the second lived Daemon, her mother, their sons and Joffrey; in the third resided Alicent, Aegon, Helaena and their children.

The first meeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra after the pact was established in the Great Sept was full of tears. They locked themselves alone in one of the chambers to speak to each other about everything that had happened over the years.

The fact that Aegon had condemned his grandfather to death meant that both Daemon and Rhaenyra endured the presence of his family with understanding, however they each ate their suppers separately.

They, as part of the conflict to bring peace, also ate alone, accompanied by their little sons.

Viserys was a sweet and curious child – as soon as he began to speak, he immediately began to demand that his favourite books with large, colourful illustrations depicting great dragons and kings be constantly read to him.

Aegon, however, was a stubborn and expressive: he voiced his opinions and displeasure loudly, knowing, however, where the limit of her and his father's patience lay.

Daeron, on the other hand, was a smiling and joyful infant, laughing loudly whenever he saw the faces of his brothers above the cradle tickling his belly with their fingers.

"He makes such funny sounds out of himself. Like a little puppy." Aegon said.

Their life was happy and peaceful, and she felt that she could finally breathe and have a little rest from the hardships of carrying a child.

And then, a few months after that very difficult delivery, she fainted in the throne room, losing control of her body, falling numbly to the ground.

When she awoke, she immediately smelled his familiar scent, his broad hand stroking her head.

She lifted her eyelids and saw that he lay beside her without his eye patch, his hair loose, only his shirt and breeches on his body. He was lying next to her on his side, his other hand holding a book lying on the bed between them, absorbed in his reading.

He shuddered and looked up at her as she touched his chest.

"– Rhaenys –" He whispered, closing the book, placing a warm, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"– how are you feeling? – you fainted –"

"I know. I think it's the weather. It's been so hot today, my head has been spinning since this morning." She whispered, smiling warmly at him, wanting to comfort him with the thought that it was nothing too severe.

The look on his face and the way he swallowed loudly made her feel uneasy.

"That's not what made you feel this way, my love. It's…" He began, but fell silent, pressing his lips together. She realised after a moment what he meant, a shiver of fear and discomfort ran along her spine.

"So soon?" She mumbled, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. Her husband lowered his gaze, heartbroken.

"Yes. Forgive me." He muttered. She clamped her lips together as he covered his face with his hand and drew in air loudly, as if trying not to cry. "I knew you endured it badly this time. I knew it, but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"I know. I know." She said, pulling his head towards her, allowing him, as he always did when he was scared and tired, to snuggle his face between her breasts and take solace in the embrace of her arms.

She could hear his loud, broken breath, could hear him sniff with his nose, his broad hands clenched on the material of her nightgown at her back, seeking comfort.

"– Rhaenys –"

Although by the next day her sadness and fear had vanished, replaced by joyful anticipation of what their next child would be like, her husband still remained withdrawn and thoughtful, clearly feeling remorseful towards himself.

His openness in her presence resulting from their bond and understanding remained only in the sphere of their marriage: in her husband's eyes, she was a person whose behaviour and needs he understood perfectly, with whom he knew how to speak, around whom putting his thoughts into words came easily.

Having witnessed daily his directness and lightness in conversation at her side, the change that occurred in him was all the more striking when anyone else joined their company: his mother, his brother, some lord or even their own son.

Her uncle was deeply affected by what a heavy burden and responsibility Viserys had to carry on his shoulders. He saw himself in him: quiet and withdrawn, filled, however, with her empathy and sensibility, making him more thoughtful and sensitive to someone else's hurt.

Her husband feared that the crown and what it carried with it would crush him: he did not know how to strengthen him, make him a man without breaking his spirit.

He feared nothing more than that he would become like his father: insensitive, blind to his real needs, to his cries for help that his son could not articulate.

How similar they were didn't help them communicate: her uncle cut his discomfort with harsh, short sentences, while Viserys shut himself away, terrified of his coldness.

"He is afraid of me. I can see it in his eyes." He told her one day, undoing the buckles of his tunic, wanting to lie beside her in their bed. She looked at him with worry, stroking her rounded abdomen and swallowed quietly, lowering her gaze.

Father does not love me.

"I fear that he sees himself in your eyes as a disappointment. He cannot understand the source of your harshness and distance, which I know is due to nothing other than your fatherly concern. Nevertheless, he needs to hear a few warm words from you for once in his life." She said pleadingly, looking at him as he lay down beside her, sighing heavily. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling the eye patch off his head, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the floor, frustrated.

"What should I tell him? That I'm proud of him? That he will always be my son? He shouldn't be king if he's such a fool as not to understand that without my affectionate words." He said dryly, a clear discomfort and pain in his words, his jaw clenched in a rage whose reason she did not understand.

She stared at him dully for a moment, stunned.

"Can you hear yourself, uncle?" She asked at last, and he looked at her with a sharp, warning look that told her to be careful of her next words.

"He craves your appreciation like a thirsty person craves water. But not only that. You are his father, and he does not know you, does not comprehend your person, your behaviour."

"Good. Does he need to understand everything? It's for his own sake."

"In your mind it's easy because you know what drives you. From his perspective, you are a cold, raw stone. He told me today that you don't love him. That you don't love any of your children. That you love only me. You don't even know how much those words hurt me and I know they hurt you too, but gods, he is your firstborn son. Have an honest conversation with him. Do you think he will ever come to you for advice or support when he feels weak? He will be ashamed, he will fear your wrath and he will drown in his own despair." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

Her husband looked at her with clenched lips and she noticed in disbelief that his gaze was exactly the same as hers.

He wanted to cry because of what he had heard.

She pressed her forehead to his cheek, placing her hand on the place beneath where his heart was beating, and he stroked her arm with his fingers, swallowing hard.

"What he said tonight, during supper. When he suggested that you should rest. He hurt me with those words. I felt like my own son was rebuking me. As if I were a bad husband and father." He whispered in shame – she shook her head, placing a warm, moist kiss on his cheek.

She felt him twist his face, sinking his nose into her hair, his hand hugging her waist and drawing her closer to his body in a natural need for closeness.

"He doesn't understand it. He only sees my tiredness during the hot days, the pain in my back, hears my screams when I bring his siblings into the world. He doesn't know what happens when we're here, alone, or the reason for it. Just as we didn't know it when you told me you wished to have seven children, just as there are seven gods."

Her husband accepted her words in his heart, and she hoped that with this, he and their son would finally speak honestly with each other.

Apart from that, there was one more thing that was occupying her mind – his Name Day.

Her husband did not like to celebrate this day because of unpleasant memories from the past and she wanted to change that at last. She knew that he despised pompous, grand feasts and dances, so she had no intention of giving him a surprise that would make him unhappy.

She did, however, want to give him something completely different.

A written and lavishly illustrated book on the history of Aegon the Conqueror and his two wives in one gigantic volume, bound in red dyed leather decorated with gold, made especially at her request.

She wanted to give him something that would delight and move him at the same time, ordering the scribe to put a quote on the first page from the philosopher and poet, Areon, whose book she had borrowed from him that day when she kissed him for the first time.

Turn behind me, companion

see if I am at your side

The darkness frightens me

but you are like a torch

with your light I will not die

In order for the surprise to remain a surprise, the request could not pass directly through her hands, hence she asked one of the guards for help, which, however, proved to be a big mistake on her part.

She thought at first that the man's open and eager approach was due to his friendly, warm nature. He agreed to help her and reported to her what stage the work was at, assuring her that the book would be done on time.

The first worrying signs began to reach her consciousness when she noticed that Ser Brandon was looking at her while he was guarding the chamber during the Small Council meetings in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She feared that he had perceived her proposal in an ambiguous manner thinking that it was merely an excuse to get close to him.

To her horror, his surreptitious, shameless glances were noticed by her husband.

"– are you fucking him? –" Her uncle asked as soon as they crossed the threshold of their chamber, grasping her cheeks in his fingers warningly, his eye wide in rage, making cold sweat run down her spine.

"– n-no – never – I –" She mumbled, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad – she moaned, surprised, as his swollen, wet lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss.

"– I'll kill you if you lie –" Her growled into her mouth, his slick, moist tongue forcing its way again and again down her throat with quick, impatient, furious clicks as he made her retreat towards their bed with every step.

"– I swear, husband –" She exhaled wearily and squealed as he pushed her onto the bed, making her fall onto her back. He stared at her as if completely mad, breathing heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic with aggressive swipes of his hand.

"– undress –" He hissed furiously, throwing the material of his garment to the floor, pulling his shirt off his chest, ripping his eye patch from his face a moment later. She nodded her head quickly, feeling her heart in her throat as he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body.

Whenever he was terrified he spoke in this dramatic way, as if he wanted to show her that her betrayal would be the end of his and her life.

She couldn't help how much it aroused her, his desperation and how much he needed her, his feigned aggression only for her to soothe him, for her body to reassure him that he was wrong.

She tried to untie the bonds of her gown as quickly as she could, however, it was not easy – her husband paid no attention to the delicate knots at her sleeves and literally ripped the fabric off her in a gesture that was more animal than human.

"– uncle –" She whimpered pleadingly as his hot, swollen lips pressed into hers again with his loud groan of pleasure and rage, her hand sliding lower to the material of his breeches, finding his hard, throbbing erection beneath them at last.

"– fuck – spread your thighs wide – that's it –" He breathed out, and she obeyed his command without a word, watching with excitement as the black leather material slid down his legs, leaving him wonderfully naked, just like her.

She cried out loudly, clasping her hands over his bare buttocks and back as he immediately stretched her swollen opening on the fat head of his erection, a low, helpless sigh escaping from their throats.

"– A-Aemond – mghmm –" She cried out, trying hard to fit in what he was forcing her to take, his manhood pulsing all over deep inside her, betraying how close he was to fulfilment, how aroused he was by what had just happened between them.

She, at his mercy.

She began to moan when he immediately imposed a fast, sharp, aggressive pace on her, his hips rolling to the rhythm of her body, thrusting again and again deep between her warm, leaking folds, despite the initial difficulty welcoming him with ease.

They both lost their temper, falling into a complete frenzy, their naked, sticky bodies slamming against each other with loud splats of their shared moisture.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her cheeks again with his fingers, the thrusts of his hips teasing again and again the little bud inside her made it difficult for her to gather her thoughts: she was only able to look at his face, his lips parted in lust, his gaze filled with rage and love at the same time.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty, her breath heavy as her fingers tightened on his naked, sweaty shoulders, her puffy nipples rubbing against the skin of his chest with his every thrust making the tension in her lower abdomen slowly reach its peak.

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting into her mouth, their hips coming up to meet each other in a desperate attempt to achieve fulfilment, her hands clamped down on his buttocks, again and again guiding his soaked, fat erection deep inside her.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, tilting her head back, feeling a sudden wave of hot, tickling pleasure and relief surge through her nipples, through her lips, the tips of her fingers and her little cunt, which began to squeeze him greedily, her legs crossed over his back, refusing to let him pull away.

Her husband let out a low, helpless, almost animalistic groan and reached his peak inside her, filling her silky insides, clenching around his twitching manhood, with his seed. He fell on top of her after a moment without strength, his hand stroking her cheek hot with emotion.

"– it's not your fault – he's been watching you for weeks –" He whispered, placing tender, gentle, moist kisses on her face.

"– I swear to you that he is already… –" He sighed and froze suddenly, his body tensed in her embrace.

"– hm? –" She asked sleepily, struggling to open her eyes, trying to calm herself down after what she had just experienced.

"– fuck – Viserys –" He muttered horrified, pulling out of her quickly and grabbing his breeches, putting them on his legs.

"– what? –" She asked, rising up on her elbows, not understanding what had frightened him so suddenly, only noticing after a moment that the door to their chamber was slightly ajar.

"– has he seen us? Aemond, don't do anything foolish, don't shout at him! –" She called after him in despair as he put on his shirt in a careless, quick motion and left their chamber, closing the door behind him. She pulled her nightgown over herself, stroking her swollen abdomen with her hand, thinking about what to do.

After many minutes that felt like an eternity she became impatient, scared and tired, wondering why it had taken so long, whether she should go there and react.

She jumped up in her seat, feeling her heart in her throat when finally her uncle returned to their chamber, pale, his eye wide open. He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"We were just having a conversation. Like father and son." He assured her, seeing the look on her face as he headed towards their bed, laying down powerlessly on the sheets.

She immediately moved towards him, laying down beside him, pressing her forehead against his exactly as she had when they were children.

Her husband rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

"You were right. It helped. He opened up to me and I opened up to him. I feel lighter." He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her his embarrassing little secret.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, placing her hand on his back.

"I'm so happy."

Her uncle hummed at her words, a gleam in his eye that she knew all too well.

"I also paid a short visit to the guard who finds it so pleasant to look at my wife. We discussed this… matter properly." He murmured, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, causing a cold, wonderful shiver to pass through her.

"It turns out he's very attached to his two eyes."

[rroseselavyyy]

spider to the fly - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut

For a young lady known to society as an entitled bitch, your fate seemed to be in the hands of your parents. By nature, you were always so obedient to the unrealistic expectations of your so-called caring parents that it made up for your bratty attitude that came from being the only heir in your family.

And this exactly explained why Min Yoongi was standing across you, with his trademark cocky grin, leaning on your bedroom's doorway.

“How did you manage to sneak in?” You asked with a playful smile on your face. Indeed, you weren’t that surprised. He could just greeted by your mom, climb the stairs like it was his place. He was your dad’s favourite, after all.

“Do I look like I’ve just broke into without your parents’ permission?” You rolled your eyes with a quiet snort. You would always open your window just for him, knowing that he would pay a visit like a creature of the night, ready to devour you.

A beautiful breeze coming through your window lingered ever so slowly over your bare legs while you gulped loudly. You patted the spot next to you on your bed and call out for him sweetly. “Just come here, I feel needy since you entered the room.”

Taking his place next to you, he shook his head in a motion showing his disbelief with a beautiful smile on his face. Once you felt his minty breath lingering on your face just centimetres away, his face clouded with sincere concern. “Dove, what happened?” He tilted your chin in order to find any traces of emotions lingered in your eyes. Without giving a proper answer, you brought your hand to his neck and played softly with his raven hair. “Why did you rush out of my parents’ house? Did they say anything to hurt you?” You couldn’t find courage in you to confront with his burning gaze. Instead you fixed your gaze on your bed and mumbled a soft “no” immediately after you felt tears started to adorn your cheeks like diamonds covered your delicate neck.

“My family never misses a chance to make me feel like I’m some sort of property, especially when I’m around you, and your family. I know, we are supposed to get married, and I appreciate that it’s you. However, just imagine I hadn’t fall in love with you since we met when we were in kindergarten? I want this to happen just because we are in love. I feel like everything slips out of my hand including my dreams of becoming a professor-” You felt out of breath when you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips. It made your head dizzy with the feeling of your mind slipping out of your head to wander around somewhere far away likely to be your dreamland.

There was no denying that everytime he looked into your eyes with his intense gaze, you felt you were burning in a hellfire. His affect on you was that immense. “Maybe my parents should adopt you. My dad likes you just fine.”

You didn’t realize when he made you lay on your back as he was towering over you with leaning on his one strong elbow to prevent crushing his weight over you. “No, Yoongi. I’m not settled for being your step sister.” You whispered with your closed eyes. Your dizzy mind refused to calculate passing minutes as you were enjoying sensations rushed through your veins. “I’m going to be your bride, don't you know that?”

"I'll take you as wife-" His breath hitched when he seemed to speak more to himself. "Just the thought of it makes me feel like I am the ruler of this whole fucking universe." You giggled as you leaned to peck his lips. With Yoongi around you, it was that easy for you to feel the happiest woman in the world even if you felt like you freaked out just seconds ago. He was notorious for being a grumpy cat for a reason, yet he was different with you. Definitely much more caring.

"Tell me Professor Min, would you let me attend your classes as a guest?" He whispered just above your ear as his fingers doing their magic below your prim and proper knee-length skirt, stroking your thighs possessively. "You know, I can be very beneficial for your academic research. Reproduction is something still so mysterious, we could find new evidences if we sacrifice ourselves to the science world."

"My mother wouldn't let me be one." Indeed, it was true. Following your dreams would never be on the silver plate that served for you. The only thing that they expected from you was to wrap this handsome man of yours around your finger. Little did they know was that he was already willing to die for you. "She prefers me to become a pretty little housewife."

"It would be a shame if I can't see you with cute glasses and tight formal skirts. I'd pass your classes with excellent grades-" He trailed his fingers on your covered pussy as he shamelessly spoke to your ear. "I'd be a good pet for my professor."

"What an encouraging husband we have here." You erotically whispered between your wet kisses along a way between his cheek to his jawline. Forgetting your parents' existence downstairs, he couldn't hold back a moan when his nostrils filled with sweet patchouli and rose essence lingering on your freshly shampooed hair.

Not that he cared, he would fight hell to hold you.

"You know I'd do anything to make you happy, my beautiful dove." You brought your thumb to his lips and softly stroke his bottom lip, he didn't lose any second to capture your thumb with his lips, slowly sucked it while his heated gaze fixed on your eyes.

"Then would you let me ride you?"

Without waiting for his response, you flipped him over and switched your positions in a heartbeat. He rested his arms under his head as he was anticipating your next move. You got rid of your panties hastily. Your soon-to-be husband boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile while you try to satiate the frustration between your legs onto his growing member covered by his expensive pants. "So this is the night I'm going to deflower you."

You wrapped your delicate hand around Yoongi's neck as you try to give him as pleasure as you could feel.

"Shut up. Just feel." As your mouth hung open from the immense pleasure you feel, Yoongi groped your waist just to make sure if he was still alive and this feeling he felt was not something he would put blame on his dirty imagination when it came to you. "You're saving it for your husband, huh? I see." When you tried to slap his chest with a growl he immediately got a grip of them and encaged between his large hands. He started to thrust up into you when you both feel you're not going to last.

Your whimpers exchanged between "yoongi" and "faster" right before you both reached your high.

"Feeling better?" He asked when he tried to catch his breathing. You giggled sweetly as you placed your figure right beside his body. "Yes."

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

Ok so as a sort of followup to that Yachie drawing, I did one of Yachie as well. I already had a pretty solid idea in mind (though tbh drawing her wasn't as fun as drawing Saki) but I'm overall pretty happy with this drawing.

Artist's Notes;

So I knew that I would never forgive myself if I completely missed the oppurtunity to give Yachie face scales, which is something that I haven't really seen many people do yet. I do feel like I could've pushed it a lot more, but I'm liking the direction my take on her is going.

I also wanted to take this opportunity to talk about some of my headcannons for how Hell's fashion works since I've had this on my mind for a while. So ever since I refined my own design for Zanmu, I really liked the idea of having there be some connection between her and Satori in their clothes because they're both the defacto "leaders" of their respective Hells, and then I had the idea of having Hell's fashion trends mimic real life history where it mimics whatever the upperclassman are wearing in someway? I've always been really fascinated with the idea of how Modern Hell works as a society and also how Old Hell was impacted by it's abandonment, and while I am aware that the animal realm isn't exactly Hell and is moreso it's own thing right next to it, I imagine that there would be some overlap in the fashion and culture due to their close proximity to each other. Of course, I still kept a lot of elements in from Yachie's original design, the only thing I really added to the outfit was the jazzed up sleeves and the bottom of her shirt as well as those cool triangle things ZUN added to her shirt in 19. I also have her some nice and sharp nails since I thought they fit her. I also tried adding some scales onto the tips of her ears though tbh IDK how well they read. Her colour palette also ended up becoming a lot more teal than I had anticipated, but I honestly like it as I love it whenever people make Yachie's colour palette and design a lot more teal. I also wanted to try and differentiate her face from Saki's, though I do plan on experimenting more on how to avoid same face syndrome, as it's a problem that haunts me in my dreams. There's not really much I can say here aside from "hee hee clothing rendering go brrrrrr" and how the Clip Studio Paint charcoal brush is really all you need for any given piece and it is literally the only brush I use aside from the occasional airbrush for lighting (sometimes) and the blend tools. I've been doing a lot more simple character art recently and I've just been waiting for a cool enough idea for a full blown piece.

Though now that I've talked about some of my headcannons about how Modern Hell works, I really just want a Touhou manga spinoff about Modern Hell. Like, please ZUN I'm begging you, just do it, it would be so fucking cool because Touhou 17 is literally the only time in modern Touhou when we've been to Hell proper, does modern Hell have any settlements of Oni and other Youkai? Does it have cities? Towns? Villages? What's the technological level of Hell? How do they keep sinners from pulling a Touhou 17 and summoning a fucking god to save them? Where do all the characters associated with Hell as of right now fit into everything? You can't just drop a character like Zanmu who is stated to essentially be the king of fucking Hell and then not elaborate further on how she fits into the general framework of Hell! Is she officially the king or is this more of a "true mastermind using the official king/ruler as a puppet" type deal? How does the Animal Realm fit into all of this? Did Hecatia purposefully create Hell so it would be right next to the Animal realm? Did it just appear there on it's own once Buddhism started popping off on Earth or was it established once Zanmu established Modern Hell? How long was Keiki a problem for, and how did that affect the rest of Hell? Seriously there are so many unanswered questions here and I don't know if I just need to read an interview Zun had where he was asked these same questions and if so please tell me because these questions have all been stirring in my brain for quite some time and I really wished we'd just get a new fucking manga instead of going over the same settings in Gensokyo over and over and over and over again dear god. Like, I get that there's still a lot to explore with what we already do have, but it would just be really nice to see the Animal Realm get a little more explanation as to how it fits into the overall grand scheme of Gensokyo's worldbuilding because that would just make such an already interesting idea for a setting in Gensokyo so much better.

I'm hoping to get the drawing for Keiki done before Touhou 17's 5 year anniversary, though I am willing to postpone that and take my time on it and I also have something coming up where I won't have access to my main drawing tablet for a while so it might be a while until I post again, maybe, who knows, consistent posting schedule? Who are they, I've never heard of them. I do fully intend on talking about my thoughts on Touhou 17 though, even if it's a day or two late, it's Touhou 17's birthday month so it still counts! Also because out of all the Touhou game anniversaries, this is the one I care about the most because Touhou 17 was the first Touhou game I played and 1CC'd(???) on normal, and even though it has plenty of flaws (i.e. the many missed opportunities for it's gameplay, how unbalanced the mechanics are and also screen visibility), I'm always going to have a bit of a soft spot for it and I think that the game's strengths make up for some of it's weaknesses in my opinion.

[hawkinsbnbg]

‪Steve was such an embodiment of a golden retriever that Eddie could hardly hate him even when his Munson Doctrine said otherwise.‬

‪Once Eddie got to know him better, he knew he was done for.‬

‪The guy wasn't only a pretty face and fine muscles, he was also kind and a goddamn sweetheart.‬

‪And Eddie? He was a sucker for Steve Harrington. ‬

‪Had been since high school and never thought he could fall any deeper until Dustin literally force introduced him to Steve who took one look at him and invited him to his house.‬

‪As if they were good friends and not two strangers who had just talked to each other for the first time.‬

‪"We actually talked once before all of this," said Steve absentmindedly as they were chilling out on the lounge chairs by the pool.

‪Sometimes, the night breeze would sail past them and Eddie would be able to smell Steve's citrus cologne mix with the chlorine that came from the pool. ‬

‪Also, he'd never admit that the sight of Steve in that white snug T and those stupid tiny green shorts made him a little bit dizzy.‬

‪"When?" Eddie was bewildered. Because if he had interacted with Steve, then he sure as hell he'd remember it for the rest of his life.‬

‪"On my first year," Steve gave him a meaningful look. "You seemed to hate me a lot the moment we met so I didn't try to approach you anymore."

‪Eddie remembered it now. That day, Steve had come to buy from him but since he didn't sell to underages, he decided to scare the younger boy away and then forgot all about it once he returned to his trailer.

‪Turned out, his tactic worked a little bit too well and now, Eddie finally understood why Steve never came to him and it was always Tommy or Carol's brother instead.‬

‪"Thanks for that anyway," said Steve quietly.‬

‪"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly in confusion.‬

‪"For denying me the weeds," Steve gave him a warm smile. "I had been goaded to buy them from you but now thinking back, I'm glad that I didn't get them. Because I knew the moment I went back with a bag of weeds, those people would encourage me to buy drugs next. It'd go on until they got me addicted and my life would be much more different if I was sent into rehab by my father."‬

‪Though Eddie knew this was what he hoped his little conscience would do to those teenagers, he still didn't expect Steve Harrington of all people to thank him for it.‬

‪And he didn't expect his heart to leap into Steve's hand without his consent, either.‬

‪"It's nothing," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and picked up his beer bottle so he'd have something to do instead of flailing his hands around like an idiot. "It's just one of my rules that I don't sell to underages."‬

‪"And thanks to you, many guys like me can have a better life," Steve raised his beer into the air. "Cheers for Eddie Munson."‬

‪Eddie though blushed at the lovely smile Steve sent him, still held up his bottle and clinked it with Steve's.‬

‪After that night, they started hanging out together more often. Sometimes, it'd be at Steve's place, and some other times, it'd be in Eddie's bedroom at the Munson trailer.

‪Steve even chatted with Wayne about basketball, on which Eddie would never in his wildest dream expect to walk in when he returned from a gig one late night.‬

‪Gradually, it became their thing to spend time together whenever they could.‬

‪Yet, Eddie didn't dare to consider them as anything but friends.‬

‪Sure, they hung out all the time in each other's bedroom, they shared forehead kisses and cuddles, they brushed each other's hair, and they even lived in each other's wardrobe.‬

‪But, clearly, Steve was as straight as a ruler and Eddie wouldn't ruin their friendship just because of his stupid feelings.‬

‪So Eddie did what he thought was the best. He tried to move on.‬

‪But he had failed the moment a random girl walked up to Steve and started flirting with him.‬

‪An ugly thing reared its head inside Eddie and caused him to see Red.‬

‪He just stormed over and pulled Steve away from that girl, out of the bar, and into the back of his van without much thought for the consequences.‬

‪Fuck the consequences. Because Steve was his and his alone. Anyone could fuck off.‬

‪"Eds? Did something happen? Are you okay?" Steve looked at him in concern.‬

‪That got an amused huff out of Eddie. Of course, his sweetheart would worry about everyone but himself.‬

‪"No, I'm okay," he took in a deep breath to calm down. Then, he met those hazel eyes and decided to be honest for once. "I was just jealous."‬

‪"Of who?" Steve’s brows pinched in bafflement.‬

‪"Of that girl," Eddie licked his dry lips and watched Steve's gaze flick down to them before meeting his eyes again.‬

‪"Why?"‬

‪"Why?" Eddie parroted back before giving out the answer that had been locked inside him for years. "Because I like you, Steve."‬

‪"Oh," Steve breathed out.‬

‪"Yeah," Eddie snorted bitterly and braced himself for the imminent heartbreak. ‬

‪He waited for Steve to either turn him down gently or punch him in the face for taking advantage of their friendship for his greed and selfishness.‬

‪He knew Steve would never do that. But it'd hurt far worse if Steve got upset enough with him to resort to pure violence.‬

‪Instead, all Steve did was ask with a raised eyebrow, "So are you gonna kiss me now or do I need to do it first?"‬

‪Eddie didn't need to be told twice to cup Steve's face and lock their lips together.‬

‪This could be another good dream for all he cared.‬

‪For now, Eddie didn't want to drown himself in yet another existential crisis until he was done making out with his darling.‬

‪Until they stumbled into Steve's bed, until Eddie was permitted to do everything to the other man, including blowing his back out that he knew it wasn't a dream. Because Eddie never made it this far in his dreams before.‬

‪"So are we boyfriends now?" Eddie asked again just to make sure as he cuddled and shared lazy kisses with an adorably sleepy Steve.‬

‪"Mhm," Steve hummed under his breath, all rosy cheeks and blissed out.‬

‪"Just so you know," Eddie traced his forefinger on the soft outline of Steve's chin. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time and even if you try to kick me away, I'd find a way to get back to you."‬

‪"That sounds perfect to me," Steve yawned and snuggled up to him.‬

‪"Yeah?" Eddie tightened his arms around Steve.‬

‪"Uh-huh," Steve planted a small kiss on his jaw. "We're in this together now. And you're gonna see how clingy I am very soon. Just don't regret it, Munson."‬

‪"I'd never, sweetheart," Eddie whispered back and gave his lovely boyfriend another smooch on his forehead.‬

‪As Eddie slowly drifted off, he just knew he was the world's happiest and luckiest man to have Steve in his life.

‪And that was a blessing he'd never take for granted.‬

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Rose-Red Ruler.

Happy birthday, our most beloved Queen of Hearts.

May your smile be like a never fading flower.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A soft knock is at his door.

Riddle tears away from his current textbook--a volume of advanced potions, open to Recipe for Happiness. On the list of ingredients were faith, trust, a little pixie dust, and...

"Come in," he calls, letting the contents of the book fall from his memory.

His mother enters, bearing a tray with a tall pitcher and a glass. As usual, her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she is dressed impeccably: a scarlet pantsuit, heels, black lace gloves, and a necklace drawn tight across her neck, creating the illusion of beading blood. Mrs. Rosehearts gives her son a stern yet warm smile.

"Happy birthday, Riddle. You're still studying, even on your big day?"

"Yes, mother. This will be the year I apply for internships, so I cannot afford to slack off in my studies. I want to ensure I am the strongest possible candidate for the law and medical internships I'm interested in."

She nods approvingly, setting the tray upon his desk. "It's good to be thinking about your future now--but be sure to take breaks when appropriate. I've brought you some Darjeeling, first flush. Its light and delicate flavor is perfectly refreshing for a sweltering day."

Mrs. Rosehearts starts to pour the chilled tea for him. Right as the aromatic, golden brown stream ceases, she lets out a small gasp. "Ah, yes--your schedule is open tonight, correct? Your father will be fetching a strawberry tart on his way home from work, and I've prepared all your favorite foods. You can eat as much as you like!"

Riddle's stomach flutters.

There are so many things wrong with what she has said, but he exclaims the first question to emerge in his mind.

"We're having a celebration? Together?"

"Of course we are. It's your birthday," his mom replies plainly. "Why wouldn't we celebrate our special little boy?"

"I... I don't know," Riddle confesses. For reasons he cannot explain, his head suddenly feels foggy. "I just can't recall the last time we did something like this as a family."

You've never seemed happy with one another.

He does not dare say it out loud.

Mrs. Rosehearts carefully regards her child.

"Certainly, your father and I have very busy schedules on account of our work at the hospital. You've immersed yourself in your schoolwork. It can be difficult making plans that align with all three of us--but we make time to spend with our loved ones."

Mrs. Rosehearts leans down and plants a feathery kiss on his head, a hand lovingly stroking his hair. So soft, so tender. She smells of roses on a bed of vanilla and amber, the same heady comfort as the exhilaration of collapsing, out of breath, after spinning in circles in the summertime.

The frantic thudding in Riddle's chest slows. He leans into her touch, her fragrance.

"Okay," he says quietly. A slight wetness prickles his vision. "I think... I'd really like that, mom."

He stays there, in her embrace, for longer than he thinks he should. The minutes are slipping away from him, but Riddle cannot bring himself to pull away. The cradle of roses is enchanting, spilling wool over his eyes.

He is completely, utterly, certifiably entranced.

Ding-dong!

Mrs. Rosehearts lifts her head. "Hm? That's strange. That can't be your father. He doesn't get out of work for at least another hour--and he wouldn't need to ring the doorbell, he has his keys."

"It is odd," Riddle agrees.

"Excuse me, it will take just a moment to check. Perhaps it's the mailman."

Mrs. Rosehearts gathers herself and departs. From the study, Riddle can hear the front door swinging open, followed by muffled chatter. Excited, boyish.

His mother's voice, raising.

Dread fills him.

He abruptly stands, his chair harshly skidding back with an unpleasant whine.

Riddle races into the hallway and to the foyer. He's not sure which is faster: his heart, or his feet? His mind struggles to catch up, to process everything--

The front door is ajar.

His mother, on one side. And on the other...

Two young men.

One with short hair in dark green and bright yellow eyes peering out from behind thick frames. He holds a hefty cake in his hands--a shortcake iced in whipped cream frosting. The strawberries piled on top shine like forbidden jewels.

Beside him is a boy with choppy bangs, a pair of feline ears bearing a plethora of earrings pokes out from his head. He has a lazy grin and disheveled clothes, reclining like a sunbathing cat against the first visitor.

His friends spot him before his mom does, and their faces light up.

"Uh-oh, guess the cat's out of the bag now," Che'nya giggles.

"Wh-What are you two doing here?!" Riddle demands. Not angry, but fearful. He nervously glances at Trey--Trey, whom his mother had angrily banished from their home until the end of time.

"We wanted to drop by and surprise you," Trey explains. He's too calm for this situation--especially when Mrs. Rosehearts is standing right there.

Any minute now, Riddle suspects she will explode. She will scream at Trey and Che'nya until she is a darker red than her hair. She will slam the door in their faces. She will threaten to call the police. She will--

"Riddle, you didn't tell me your friends would be joining us this evening!" Mrs. Rosehearts beams, stepping aside and waving for the boys to enter. "Please, come in! You can spend some time together before dinner.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Myaaa-uch appreciated!”

Trey and Che’nya cross the threshold with ease.

Riddle blinks. “But what about my studies…?”

“Studies? At a time like this?” Trey gives a light laugh. “We’re not at school, Riddle. You can relax a little. Just let me put this cake away and then we can all hang out, okay?”

“My father is already going to be bringing a tart later…”

“Oooh, double the desserts? Don’t mind if I do! I’ll swipe two slices of both.”

“Don’t be greedy, Che’nya! You have to save some for the rest of us, especially the birthday boy.”

“Me?” Riddle’s brows crease. “I…”

“It’s fine,” his mother coaxes. “Go and be with your friends.”

“Is that okay? Is that… really, really okay?”

Mrs. Rosehearts steps toward him, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes are dewey, and her face looks more gentle than he has ever seen it.

“Yes. This is your youth, Riddle. You only live once—so live this life to its fullest. If you could promise me that, then nothing would make me happier.”

“Mother…!”

Riddle tugs her into a hug. It is fast, it is fleeting, it is a flicker of light peeking through a keyhole. He opens that locked door and emerges on the other end.

He chokes out his response.

Two simple words, carrying all his hopes and dreams.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in forever, he smiles with all of his heart.

But beyond the happy boy, cheeks streaked with tears, beyond the door that divided him from the world... a shadow hides in the shade of a rose tree.

It looks on, and smiles too.

"... It appears as though Rosehearts has have found his happily ever after at long last, fufu. How wonderful.”

[shakingparadigm]

Btw have you listened to any covers by the alstg VA? Do you have any favorites ? Just got reminded bcs omg new akugetsu cover 😮!

SO FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU. it's amazing to get this ask actually because just this morning I was drafting a post about the ALNST VAs and how good they are! They're all so talented, and they fit their roles perfectly. I truly couldn't imagine anyone else playing their roles!

Here's a favorite cover/song of mine from each VA!

(Note: These are all just based on my personal preference, and I haven't gone very deep into each VA's discography yet save for a few. These are just the covers that I listen to most frequently! Please forgive my basic ass taste btw)

Russian Roulette (Red Velvet) by Rubyeye (Mizi's VA)!

I'm gonna be honest, I'm a very simple person. Russian Roulette is just a very cute song! And I think it suits Mizi so well, all bright, bubbly and candy sweet (at least in rhythm)!

I love hearing Rubyeye's voice no matter where it is honestly, she's rather versatile! In ALIEN STAGE, Mizi often sings slower ballads (My Clematis), or in her lower, more mature voice (Ruler of My Heart). She sounds absolutely gorgeous of course, but Rubyeye's voice in more energetic songs is such a joy to hear as well!

My second favorite Rubyeye cover is actually the Mizi version of UTTE! Can you tell that I love hearing Rubyeye's more energetic covers. Can you tell yet. I know it's very unpopular, but I love Mizi UTTE so much. The way that she sings is so incredibly charming to me, she has a lot of spunk in this cover! I love how she sang "ain't nobody but!" I honestly love that lyric more in Mizi's version than I do in the original! It holds a lot of character which I adore.

Catch You Catch Me (Cardcaptor Sakura OP) by C!nah (Sua's VA)!

Once again, I am a simple person. I can't resist a cute and sweet cover.

C!nah's light and angelic voice fits so well into this song! It sounds absolutely lovely. Plus I already loved the song beforehand, so I might be a bit biased lol

C!nah's voice in general is so unique. It has such an clear and airy quality to it! They picked such a perfect voice for Sua.

My second favorite C!nah cover is Sua's version of ROMH! I adore how Sua sings like a whisper. Her voice brings such a haunting feel to the song.

LILAC (IU) City Pop Cover by 6FU;

Being honest, my favorite 6FU; song is actually Drunk and Party.

But if we're talking covers, this one might just be my favorite due to how shocked I was upon listening to it.

Hyuna has a very energetic and rough voice, with such a strong and unique tone. I was expecting it when clicking on this cover, which was why I was pleasantly surprised to hear a much smoother, calmer voice.

And it's beautiful! I haven't listened to much from 6FU; yet, so I might find some new favorites once I do. For now, I'll keep listening to this cover over and over again.

Sweet Dream (Luka Version) by BL8M (Luka's VA)!

OKAY I know this already an Alien Stage song. I don't know if it counts but I'm putting here anyway because GOD.

THE TONE AND TEXTURE OF HIS VOICE. I'M IN AWE.

Was absolutely floored listening to this for the first time. I actually ascended

BL8M is actually one of the songwriters for ALIEN STAGE, and he sang the demo for this song!

You can really hear his expertise. He owns this song.

My "the worst person you know has the voice of an angel" post was literally about this I was going insane

THE WAY HE SANG THE PRECHORUS. THE "save me please" OUHHH...

They couldn't have picked anyone better for Luka. He literally kills every song he sings.

유우리(優里) - 베텔기우스(ベテルギウス) by PARK BYEONG HOON (Ivan's VA)!

PBH's wonderfully rich and deep voice. What a blessing.

I love how soft he sounds in the beginning of most of his covers, slowly growing in intensity until he's fully expressing the song.

The ranges he uses in this cover are so nice to listen to. I love the switching between his deeper lower voice and his soft higher voice.

Thinking about Ivan's voice in CURE and how it's probably going to sound more anguished and desperate than this makes me sick btw.

Anyways please listen to this cover he deserves the support.

Um. My other favorite PBH cover is umm. uh. The short clip of a MANIAC (Stray Kids) cover he posted on Twitter.

GUYS DID YOU FUCKING HEAR THAT ONE. CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT IT??!!! HIS VOICE. THE BASS. FUCK.

I actually went insane. Finally got to hear Ivan's lower, rougher voice and I was shocked to my core. Life changing.

Cistus (KOUSEI) by AKUGETSU (Till's VA)!

HERE WE ARE. MY FAVORITE.

So this technically isn't a cover. It's an original song that AKUGETSU sang vocals for. Sorry. I'm just so obsessed I needed to share it.

IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOD. SERIOUSLY.

Of all the ALNST VA's I've probably listened to AKUGETSU the most (sorry. Till bias) and this song is still probably one of my absolute favorites from him.

JUST LISTEN TO IT. The guitar in the intro. The quieter vocals in the first verse that build up to a BURST of sound in the chorus. The way he enunciates everything is perfect.

AKUGETSU is such a seasoned singer. He really knows how to work his voice and knock a song out of the park. It's genuinely addicting.

This song is such a fucking banger. Till would sing this. GOD IM SO OBSESSED WITH THIS SONG.

Another absolute banger from AKUGETSU is his cover of I'm Invincible (Ado)! I love the way his voice moves, going high and low in the same line. He's such a dynamic singer.

I adore how AKUGETSU brings an energetic rock vibe to every song he sings. His voice is such a standout.

Sorry for the long ass answer! I love all the ALNST VAs and I really hope they continue to flourish! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about them 🙏

[gold-rhine]

in terms of speculations, i usually only talk in terms of general themes\narrative direction and character arcs, i don't like to try and predict the plot itself, bc it often goes immediately into fanfic territory mixed with conspiratorial theories of like interpreting kabbalah symbols and shit

but i think natlan's plot beats were basically laid out plainly in simulanka's side quests about squirrels and frogs. like, there is a frogs tournament where they determine who's the strongest champion, which we already know will be natlan's centre premise.

we have a squirrel princess , who organizes a trial to find the Guardian who can then "awaken" a relic, which should save her kingdom. this is 100% mavuika, like hello?? we literally had trailer with her announcing the tournament, "winner takes it all", and then standing in front of glowing relic, talking about "igniting".

so, in this quest, there is a squirrels' kingdom, awaiting the Guardian who can reignite the relic. they are waiting for a long time, but the Guardian doesn't arrive. So long time ago, a squirrel Princess (not the current one) sealed off the kingdom.

We know natlan is isolated itself, i.e. sealed off. So i think previous ruler, not mavuika, closed it off long time ago, and all these years they repeat the tournament again and again, trying to find the Guardian who can reignite the relic and save them. I don't know who that ruler is, was it an archon or pyro dragon, or just a ruler, i don't know yet.

now, mavuika decides to break the cycle. She doesn't want to wait anymore, she thinks decision to seal off was wrong

this is what she does in the trailer. i think what's more, is that Mavuika will open the tournament to the foreigners to compete

now, we have another major character, the frog champion. This frog champion is said to be objectively the best champion, but he at first refuses to compete, bc he "made a mistake" and thinks he's not worthy. instead, he tries to get his friend to become champion. But then when dangerous situation arrives, he proves himself the best champion when he needs to protect the others.

SO. I think the reluctant frog champion is capitano. based on previous nation trailers, all principal cast appears in the trailer. capitano is repeatedly mentioned as being the strongest warrior by several characters. in trailer, mavuika addresses him directly, asking if he's brave enough, and they share a frame. I think capitano is gonna have a tragic backstory where he failed at smth critical before and now thinks he's not worthy, i think he will at first NOT try to compete himself, but have like. a friend or protege or smth, who will be competing, but then some emergency will happen and capitano will be forced to act, proving he's the strongest, so becoming the champion.

This, i think, is about capitano and tsaritsa.

Anyway, capitano, an outsider, being named Champion is a scandal and there is gonna be some conflict about it. I'm not sure how the dragons gonna play into it yet, but like. even if capitano is not the champion, the champion WILL be the outsider who Mavuika will accept despite her natlan conservatives being against it

BUT this is not the end. Frog champion couldn't reignite the relic and become the guardian. I.e., Capitano will be the winner of the tournament, "Champion", but he will not be able to "reignite" the relic that Mavuika wants.

Princess and frog champion then go to the Cave Of Eerie Murmurs, which is very khaenriah coded. In my most delusional dreams, we will have a khaenriah field trip, but at the very least, it should be a callback to the cataclysm.

In the cave, Princess and Champion go thru several trials together, mostly Princess is doing trials and Frog and traveler are helping. They succeed and pass trials. But the relic still DOESNT reignite. Then they talk to "records" of previous princess and champion, who are resigned to being ghosts and think there is nothing to do but wait. But Princess refuses and vows to FORGE HER OWN PATH, and this is what reignites the relic. Princess becomes the Guardian herself.

okay, so. idk yet what the titles translate to. Is Princess = Archon? idk, maybe not! Maybe princess is just a ruler, so Mavuika is NOT the archon, and like the winner of the tournament is supposed to become the Archon, i.e. Guardian = Archon. Or maybe Guardian is tied to Dragon Sovereigns! Or smth else completely!

What I *can* say, is that there is some sort of position of higher power - "Guardian". Only Guardian can save natlan. To become Guardian, you need to be acknowledged by the "relic". Mavuika will host the tournament in hopes that the winner will be worthy of being acknowledged by the relic. I think, capitano will be that winner. But, the winner will NOT be able to reignite the relic and take the high power. Winner and Mavuika will go thru ancient sacred trials (possible khaenriah related), Mavuika will be the one doing the most, they will succeed, BUT still not reignite the relic. Then Mavuika will rebel against traditions and forge her own path, and this is what will reignite the relic. She will become "Guardian", Mavuika, not the winner of tournament, will be the one who gets the higher power and saves natlan.

But after the kingdom is saved, Frog Champion is able to ALSO awaken the relic and become the guardian. And then Princess says she will turn the "trial" into "training grounds", where ppl can train and become Guardians too.

SO. Whatever power Mavuika gets, Archonhood, Sovereign Authority, idk yet, she will not be the only one. First, the winner\champion will share the same power, and then the natlan tournament will be changed from "winner takes all" competition into training grounds where everyone worthy can share the same power. Thats the natlan endgame

[gabessquishytum]

Everyone seems to love warprize Hob so... what about something similar for Dream?

The Sun King has been fighting a war against the Endless kingdom for over a century. The Endless started it, and they're beginning to realize they can't win. They won't necessarily lose, but they definitely can't win.

So Time and Night offer their second oldest son in exchange for peace. Dream does not get a choice. The Sun King, Hob, agrees. He's tired of defending his kingdom, and Prince Dream is the most gorgeous creature he's ever seen. Time and Night immediately send Prince Dream to King Hob, no hesitation. Dream is certain he'll never see any of his siblings ever again (King Hob is not that cruel, his siblings can visit, but only if they behave)

Hob tries very hard to court Dream who is not having it. Hob's servants try to help after weeks of nothing and give Dream aphrodisiacs. Dream, unaware of what they are, eats them. The next thing he knows, he's on his back, on his bed, desperately trying to get off, but nothing is enough.

Hob comes in, and Dream immediately begins begging, pleading. He's so hot, and hard, and empty, won't his King fill him? Hob, unaware of the aphrodisiacs, takes Dream to pieces in what is the roughest, yet gentlest sex he's ever had; it's also undeniably the most satisfying. When Dream comes to the next morning, with the King wrapped tightly around him, he remembers everything. He's also certain that the King didn't actually have anything to do with the aphrodisiacs. He decides not to say anything. Anyone who can make him feel like that in bed deserves a chance to court him.

Weeks later, when Desire visits, they try to start shit with Dream, calling him a little whore for how easily and willingly he spreads for the King now. Hob is absolutely furious with the way Desire treats his beloved fiancé and nearly orders their execution. There is a reason the Endless feared him in the first place, you know.

- 🐺

Oh yes Dream can be warprized!! As a treat!!

King Hob gives me happy shivers because I imagine that he would generally be a fair ruler to his own people, but when it comes to the enemy in a war? He's merciless and terrifying. And he always holds a grudge, unless he gets adequate recompense or an apology.

Sending one of their princes is technically adequate recompense for the war, so Hob accepts the terms... and Dream turns up, absolutely agonised and terrified and so fucking angry. He's expecting Hob to be as awful as his own parents, but Hob is just like "wow super fucked up that you were sent here against your will, feel free to live your life as best as you can! I'm going to court you but you don't have to do anything unless you want to."

And Dream does NOT want to, so he gives Hob the silent treat... and tries to survive in his new life.

Unfortunately, Hob’s servants have questionable morals. While Hob is trying to make Dream feel safe and court him the old fashioned way, they... go for a different tactic. Dream ends up sweaty and naked in Hob’s bed, absolutely begging for some kind of relief.

(And ok, Hob isn't dumb. He knows what the symptoms of an aphrodisiac look like. He doesn't approve of what's been done to Dream, but he also can't waste the opportunity. At least he can make their first time together absolutely mind-blowing).

Hob is expecting Dream to hate him in the morning. Instead he wakes up with Dream’s mouth on his cock. All traces of the drug are gone, Dream is just... himself. And he's made a decision: if he's going to be the king’s pretty little plaything, he might as well be fucking good at it, and also have a great time. He can show his family that their actions mean nothing to him, now.

Desire shows up expecting to find Dream chained up to a wall somewhere. Instead, they find their big brother perched in the sun King's lap, wearing a diaphanous black robe that leaves nothing to the imagination... being hand fed a selection fruit. Desire is so annoyed. They wanted to see Dream humiliated, not cherished and loved!

Hob makes it very clear that Dream is his property now, and he won't stand for a him to be insulted in any way... Desire is already on thin fucking ice. They end up leaving early, metaphorical tail between their legs, to report back to the rest of the family that Dream is thriving. Damn him.

[tartrat]

Mothigan Headcanons

I really like how mysterious Mothigan is, so i thought it would be fun to share some headcanons, mainly about how i think she's part of a line of people who came in possession of the crypt and how her powers work. I also hid an among us in this drawing.

So I mentioned in my last post about her that i headcanoned that there was someone before her who passed the crypt onto her, so here is that headcanon in more detail.

This mysterious coach is who i call "The King of the Butterflies". However he was dying, someone had inflicted an illness onto him, and so he needed to find someone to replace him. Mothigan stumbled upon the crypt one day and decided to investigate, finding the dying king. She decided to stay and help him. From here she was taught magic and how to control the butterflies. Once the King had taught her enough so that she would continue on the legacy, he succumbed to the illness and died, leaving Mothigan as the new ruler of the crypt and all the butterflies. Though she realised that inevitably she would have to find a successor too, but that won't be for many years to come. Maybe.

She does enjoy this power, and as she learnt more, the more she wanted to carry on the legacy created by those who came before her, and hopes that whoever she finds as her successor, falls in love with the butterflies as she did.

Though at this point she can barely remember her predecessor's face. She can still hear his voice when she falls asleep, guiding her, but otherwise he appears as a shadow with piercing red eyes. She misses him though, even if she only knew him for a short while. She wonders if this was how his predecessor appeared to him, and if this is how she will appear to her successor when she departs. Just a shadowy figure who appears in their dreams.

I tried to depict what one of these dreams would look like with this quick drawing(i used the noise and bloom features on procreate a lot.) I didn't want to detail it too much. I also made the dream version of her predecessor reference a certain cryptid.

This mystery man doesn't have a name, it would be something related to butterflies. i'm not going to tag this post with oc, because he's just a shadow and not really a full oc yet.

The coaches of eternyx have given her the name "The Monarch of Moths", and they revere her as they don't know her intentions. They say if you catch a glimpse of her, you are in danger. However this would be merely an old folktale that has been associated with the rulers of the crypt, and they are not evil in any way. Basically some think that they are cryptids.

I call her a Monarch mainly after the butterfly, i'm unsure if that's the exact butterfly that's used in her design or if its a different yellow and black butterfly, and its fitting as she seemingly has control over all the butterflies in the crypt. (Unless they actually control her?)

Thats about it for my headcanon on her past but I have ideas about how she uses the butterflies in her magic.

Most obvious, she can create portals in the shape of butterflies for her to travel through, much like the rectangular ones Wanderlust and The Traveller create. I just like the idea of her travelling wherever she wants, even if it seems like she rarely leaves the crypt. Also i just think butterfly shaped portals sound cool.

Another idea I have was that she can send individual butterflies off and use them as cameras. This would be most useful for her when she is keeping an eye out for a successor. This would sort of work in a similar way to how Wanderlust watched Night Swan corrupt Sara in yssmiac, except its only one way so no one can see her and its not an actual portal, just a window. (Does that make sense?)

I mentioned this in the other Mothigan post as well, but the Butterflies could be the souls of the dead. They choose to help the ruler of the crypt. They've been around forever, even before the previous king. Whilst the rulers of the crypt use the flow for their magic, these butterflies help heighten their powers.

I think about her a lot, like she's so mysterious that it just intrigues me. That's sort of why i created this headcanon that she inherited the crypt from a previous butterfly related figure. I don't think that she's evil. I think that she mostly just minds her own business and just ended up in this position. Scary Butterfly Lady (complimentary) you are so cool.

Lastly I like making her eyeliner more exaggerated. Like a member of kiss, but she controls butterflies. Thats all i have right now.

[eldritch-spouse]

I swear this is my last ask for the night, I have been devoring your content and got the 601 badge for it, which I'm now proudly displaying on my blog. Anywhowitzers.

From my perusal of Vesper content, what if, his Queen desperately wants bio children of her own? Not just one. Maybe like, 4 with him. Originally was gonna shoot for like, 12 kids before she met him but understands that he has a limit.

His Queen has a big BIG momma bear streak as well and it breaks her heart when, with Vesper's mark, kids shy away from her out of uncomfortablness and she can't help but think, "Are my own children going to do the same?" She's always wanted at least 2 children of her own but upon learning about how concubi are around them, she's torn about if she should even try with Vesper and feels insecure about voicing what she wants because she's sure it would probably be countered with an immediate, "No." So she kind of slips into this funk, where engaging with rapture with him ends with a twist of deep despair because she knows that as much as she wishes for children of her own, she can't help but think it might be better to just give up that dream.

How would Vesper react to his Queen slipping into a depressive state upon that realization? Would he try to convince her that everything is fine as is? Would he try to speed up the process of turning his Queen into a Concubus so she wouldn't feel that desire anymore? Or maybe even try to actually conceive after learning about how she feels?

And then, let's say she does go through the transformation before having kids. She remembers her want for her own offspring and feels like a war is raging within her at almost all times. Her new instincts battling against her old dreams and desires. I feel like there would be times where she stares off into the distance, face twisted in disgust while tears drip from sorrowful eyes, and her hand clenched tightly against her stomach, nails digging in yet cupping herself tenderly.

- ZN

[It continues to fascinate me how people are so intent on shoving children upon Vesper. I've never even told you if he'd be good as a father, the sex appeal must create some sort of mental warp wherein people genuinely think it would work out- In spite of everything. Or maybe it's a deliberately torturous prompt, that I understand. I don't mind the asks though, congrats on the badge. 🎉 🤣]

Vesper will always push back on the topic of children, and it genuinely pains him that you're so focused on one, but you need to see things for what they are, and Vesper will not hesitate to open your eyes one day.

Look around you, you live in depravity. You are depravity- It's your new life! A child cannot he born into that life, ever. Not only would it wound everyone of his citizens to be in close proximity to them, that poor halfling would experience soul-shattering trauma that not a single person wants to imagine. You will not conceive anything in the grounds of Lust. Ever.

You cannot take an extended leave to the surface (or another Ring) for the purposes of carrying out a pregnancy and raising a child to at least eighteen years of age. He won't let you. That makes no sense to him. While it is true that demonlords of Lust have had kids before, these were mere transactions to acquire a direct heir who will grow up far away from them, which isn't something the most recent generations of Lust rulers are concerned with.

Can you do that? Can you separate yourself from your children after birth for that long? Do you fear they might resent you? It's risky business.

Vesper sits you down and he explains to you, at length, what a horrible idea having children would be. But please, there is no shame in having caring instincts. And, in his eyes, you should redirect that to the people around you. Take care of those within the mansion, take care of Lust residents in need (not just sexual need, of course), but please. For your own sake, don't try to establish contact with children.

Vesper is not about to sentence a potential child of his to a life of misery. He'd rather they not be born at all.

The Icon does tell you that your nature and your desires will change when your form does. That it will no longer be painful to exist childless, you will grow into a new age of your existence where that no longer weighs you down. Pain and sadness do not last forever, my Queen.

He will be there when it seems as if your own mind and body cannot come to an agreement, when your instincts fight, when you're torn inside out. It will fade.

It will fade.

One day you will be understand this is for the best.

Lust is not for the pure of heart.

[ohtobeleah]

Leah babe. Whenever you’re ready we’re here patiently waiting for the next update of TH&TH.

THIS TOOK ME FUCKING FOREVER TO WRITE!! And as promised, an earlier update as the Masterlist received 1’000 notes!! Ahhh. Anyway—here’s the next chapter. Also the Masterlist for those who need to catch up. We're getting closer and closer to the end of what I'd say would be series finale of season one of TH&TH. But a series two would be on the cards.

Jake Seresin never thought he’d fly for the Navy, he had every intention of joining the airforce from the day he knew what a plane was. The white walls of his childhood bedroom were plastered with air force propaganda posters spanning decades, yet they all told him the same thing. That planes were cool and that someday he’d fly one. He remembered as he sat in his F-18 Super Hornet that the longer he sat staring at the walls he littered with his dreams, his passion—the more he wanted it. A common denominator however for a lot of Jake Seresin's teen and adulting life choices had been one thing and one thing only. You. 

As Jake took his only shot at saving his colleagues' lives as they gained altitude towards the sun–like a modern day version of Ikaris themselves, Jake thought back to the moment he thought maybe the Navy wouldn't be such a bad career choice after all. 

“You wanna do what?” Sitting on your best friend's bed you told Jake that you were starting to think about a career in the Navy. “Say it again for me real quick, I don't think I heard you correctly.” He teased as he spun around on his desk chair, flipping the pen he’d been doing his homework with through his fingertips. 

“I said, I was talking to Sarah the other day and she said her older brother is a clearance diver and loves it.” You explained as you sat with your History book open on page one hundred and forty nine. Reading about the social and political constructs of the highly controversial and deeply divisive ruler—empress Wu. “Been thinking about it a lot actually–seemed pretty neat.” You couldn’t really focus on her rise from common concubine to empress when Jake was staring into your soul from across his room though. 

“You know if you go into the Navy and I go into the Air Force we can't be friends anymore right?” Jake taunted before you threw his own pillow his way. “What!” He gasped. “I'm just saying–it's kinda like a given thing that the branches all kinda hate each other.” It was your senior year of highschool so the reality of the real world was starting to kick in. You'd both been giving a lot of thought into what you wanted to do after school. If a gap year was on the horizon or if college was a possibility. Or for you maybe it was the Naval Academy and for Jake it would be the BMT. 

For now though, you and Jake both worked down at the local pizzeria after school–it was supposed to be your way of being able to spend more time together. But when the big boss had noticed that the two of you barely got anything done when you were both rostered on together? He made sure to end that real quick. 

“Doesn't the Navy have like, Naval Aviators or something?” You sighed, not realising just how much of a spark it lit inside Jake as he watched you return to your work. “If we both enlisted maybe we might be able to take on the world together?” You weren't putting all that much thought into what you were saying, simply making light hearted conversation with your best friend as you both did whatever homework you both had due the next morning. You History and Jake Mathematics–always the maths guy. “Who knows, But hey–if you do go into the Air Force and fly those stupid planes that cost way too much money I guess you already have a callsign.” Smirking, Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the chest. 

“Oh no. No way would I ever use Hangman as my call sign.” Jake huffed as he shook his head. “It's stupid.” 

“It's who you are, idiot.” You reminded him, all those moments where he’d hung around his locker waiting for the right moment to talk to you only to be left hanging had the namesake sticking to him like super glue all through high school. Like fuck was Jake taking that shit with him into his adult life. “Besides, it suits you.” 

The pad of Jake's thumb hit the trigger for his missile lock system the moment he’d been drawn back into the present by the tone he’d locked on the fifth generation fighter pilot. He watched as the jet exploded into a thick black fiery cloud that surely had to be lethal for whoever had been sitting in the cockpit. Knowing that he was coming home to you and whoever he’d just shot down wasn't. That would be his second air to air kill. You hadnt taken well to the first one–he wondered for a moment if you'd love him any less now that he had two. 

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your savour speaking.” Jake put on his usual persona of the guy who everyone just couldn't stand as he came racing through the plume into vision of Chaos and Rooster. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright position and prepare for landing.” He watched as Chaos looked his way and smacked her first twice against the side of the cockpit, laughing behind her mask. He couldn’t really tell from this distance how fucking close to death she really was. 

“Hey Hangman, you look good.” Rooster commented from the back seat, not his usual position on a fighter jet. All things considered though it probably still had a pretty good view. Jake nodded peacefully in response, he was going to say something about how he wanted to throw up over the fact he’d left you like he did to get here. Crying, screaming his name, yelling at him that you needed him. He wanted to mention that it killed him to know he left you heartbroken in his best friend's arms because he just put his colleagues above you and even more so above his own safety. Or that if he’d listened to your direct orders to stand down Rooster and Chaos may very well not be alive right now. He wouldn’t ever say that to you—ever.

Jake didn’t say any of the aforementioned things, he couldn’t. The words failed him when he tried to convey the right things to say—they always had, but in this very instant he knew his worry and utter agony was written in the lines on his face. 

Jake just nodded and laughed with them. 

“I am good Rooster, I'm very good.” He paused as he broke right and turned back to head towards the carrier. He wondered if the girl who sat on his bed that one time and said you could both take on the world together would still want to charge at it head on when he landed or if you’d throw your hands up and finally say enough's, enough. “I'll see you both back on deck.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

“You’re okay Hawkeye, I got you.” Javy rocked with you as you clung to him in utter heartbreak. There was no sense of time anymore, you didn't know if you'd been left on the runway for two minutes or two hours as you cried out in utter heartache loud enough for anyone walking the flight deck to hear. “Jakes gonna bring em home.” 

“You don’t know that–what if he never comes home.” Javy wasn't about to tell you that he had that feeling too, he wasn't about to break your heart any more than Jake had already done so in order to go after Rooster and Chaos. “He's the love of my life Javy–” Javy felt his own heart shattering as he held you a little tighter, sitting with you between his legs in the middle of the runway. His arms encapsulated you like he was shielding you from the world around you. Not wanting you to ever be hurt again. “What am I supposed to do without him huh? What does he fucking want from me!?” 

“He doesn't want nothing Hawk, he probably just knows by now that you love him enough to know that whatever happens, good or bad–he had all the right intentions.” Deep down you knew Javy was right, you did love Jake enough to know that a year ago–or even just a few months ago for that matter, he never would have done this.  

Levi ‘Elvis’ Macarthy was a terrible person and an even worse influence on your husband. He was the very dictionary definition of superficial. There wasn't a person you loathed more than Jake’s current Wingman. You knew Levi wouldn't hesitate to leave Jake in the dust if things went wrong, but what scared you so much more was Jake had become the very same. 

“Oh my god—“. You just couldn't hold it in any more, your marriage had fallen to shambles around you before there was anything left to salvage. Your grandmother always used to tell you like because and you love despite. But with Jake? Over the last few months nothing seemed worth it. “You're worse than Levi.” You had just been discussing Jake's latest deployment, he hadn’t bothered to tell you until three days out. “Levi, he’s a selfish superficial asshole but he can’t help it, Jake–but you? You could be a good person but you wanna be an asshole! You are so obsessed with getting promoted and becoming the best of the very best that you’re choosing to be a piece of shit—“ It would be your last fight, the fight that drove you over the edge, the one you couldn't come back from. The fight where things were said that you couldn’t take back no matter how badly you wanted to. It was the fight that put all your others to shame. 

“Okay stop pretending this is some moral dilemma!” Jake hadn’t told you about his next deployment because he knew that you still weren’t over his last. He didn't know how to tell you without starting a fight. Which inevitably happened anyway. 

“It is a moral dilemma! You’re pushing everyone away to chase a fucking pipe dream!” You were so proud of Jake and everything he’d accomplished, but the idea that you were the only one who was didn't sit right with you. You knew he lived for the applause, but you couldn't cheer him on from the bleachers alone. “You’re a lieutenant! God isn't that enough for you at this moment? Revel in it a little before you chase the next rank!”  

“Oh you wanna go there?” Jake scoffed as he took strides towards you, crossing the distance of the living room. “You—“. Jake spat, his voice laced with venom as he spoke to you like he hadn’t been in love with you since the very first time he saw you let alone spoke to you. Pointing his finger into your chest. “You’re afraid to climb the ladder.” He barked. “Tell me love.” The term of endearment made you weak in such a heated moment. “When was the last time you actually did something you were proud of? You spend all your time worrying about me and what I'm doing and what I'm supposedly becoming because you're too fucking scared to fucking apply yourself, you're scared that even if you tried just a little goddamn harder that you'd still be told you're a crap analyst!” He didn't mean any of it, he just wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt him. But Jake? Well he couldn't attack your person, so he went for your job, your career. He knew you held a little self doubt about your position in the Navy, unlike himself who just oozed confidence in every aspect. “Always a Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral.” 

“You go on this deployment, I won't be here when you get back.” This time you weren’t messing around. The idea had crossed your mind a time or two when things had gotten really bad, when you thought it would be easier to run than to stay and figure it out. 

“What?” Jake had suddenly lost all his male bravado. “What the hell are you talking about?” Although you’d thought about it, you’d never said it out loud. Never mentioned the idea to anyone. “Baby–” His eyes were soft and suddenly full of regret, had he gone too far this time? 

“You heard me Jake so help me god if you go, don’t expect me to fucking be here when you get back.” You thought your love for Jake Seresin could outlast any challenges you faced, but when he was the challenge himself? What else was left to do. 

“You know I have to though—you know better than anyone that I can’t just not go?” His eyes took in the entire expanse of your face, every small mark and imperfection that made you perfect to him in every way. Cupping your face between his hands. “Wifey, we’re okay, we don't have to do this.” You ignored Jake's words as you focused on the first statement that slipped past his lips. 

“Seems like an inevitable outcome then doesn’t it?” You continued, only to pull away and turn on your heels. Holding back the flooded dam that threatened to break if Jake made any attempt to keep you here. Stop you from leaving–.if he asked you to stay you knew it would be all the more harder to go, without question. You loved him so much. 

“Baby don’t leave me.” You left in the middle of the night that same night. 

He never would have put the lives of his fellow aviators above his own and he most certainly wouldn't have defied direct orders to risk his life in order to save another. The version of Jake Seresin that you almost served divorce papers to was long gone. Dead and buried. Replaced by the very best version of himself you knew he could be. The version you fell in love with during highschool. The version who asked you to marry him one random night in July under the stars as waves lapped around your ankles. The version you saw a future, a present and had a past with. It didn't hurt any less though, knowing that the outcome of all his soul searching may end up with the same outcome you’d left him over in the first place. 

You'd' still receive that folded flag, you’d still cry as his coffin was lowered, only now you knew for sure that you wouldn't be the only one to mourn him. 

“GET HER OFF THE DAMN RUNWAY!” Pete Mitchell could be heard screams from the barricades that you jumped over to reach your husband in time, to no avail. You’d fallen into a heap in Coyote's lap, inconsolable and crying as your heart raced at the thought you’d never see Jake again. Clutching at Javys flight suit, the nornex not doing much at all to dry your tears. “COYOTE! GET HER UP BEFORE YOU TWO GET RUN OVER BY A GODDAMN F-18!” 

“Someone tell my wife I'm coming home.” Jake had radioed back to the tower all the while you and Javy had been sitting on the flight deck. He had started making his way back to you the second he wasn't needed, he saw no need to string out your obvious heartbreak. He couldn't wait to get back to you, tell you how sorry he was, how much he loved you, how much you meant to him and how badly it broke his own heart he had to leave you behind like he did–but he knew Rooster and Chaos needed him just a little bit more in the very moment. Jake also couldn't wait to let you know how idiotidc it was to stand in the middle of a goddamn runway. How endearing and brave and oh so stupid he found it. He knew that you were going to tear him a new one about his actions, that was his only leg to stand on. You were miss prim and proper, he was reckless and foolish–the better halves of each other. “Someone tell Y/n I’m okay, for the love of god someone tell her I'm alright.” It was a plea that fell on somewhat deaf ears though, no one could get to you to relay the message and Pete Mitchell certainly wasn't about the scream that crossed the flight deck of the carrier. 

“We gotta move Lieutenant Commander–” Javy cooed as he tried to lift you up. Deadweight against his arms, you didn’t budge for love nor nothing. “Hey, Jake’s coming back, surely.” Pointing over your shoulder to the black dot in the distance headed straight for the carrier Javy tried his best to break through whatever haze had begun to cloud your better judgement. “You see that speck? That's Jake, so unless you wanna get railed by the cord that's gonna come at us at about a hundred miles an hour I suggest we move and the second he lands, I'll let you go? Deal?” You didn't believe Coyote as he tried to be the voice of reason, but as you watched the speck get a little closer, a little more defined, it sparked a hope inside you that you wanted to believe in. That it was Jake and he was coming home. 

“Shit–” You scrambled to your feet, dusting your uniform off as Javy took your hand in his, one hand behind the small of your waist as he guided you over to where the rest of the group stood. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, all desperately awaiting the return of Hangman, Rooster and Chaos. “You really reckon it's him?” You asked as you approached Maverick, he hated the look in your eyes. Despair. Your eyelashes were wet and your cheeks were stained but none of that really mattered when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nodded, bringing out a haphazard smile across your face for the briefest of moments. 

“It's him Hawk, it's all of them.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

It was the smoothest of landings Jake had ever pulled off. Everything had gone according to plan. When the tail hook caught on the catcher cord, slowing Jake's Super Hornet to nothing, he could finally breathe again. There wasn’t a lot that confronted Jake Seresin, but when he took off from the carrier, leaving you behind? He’d never felt such a fear in the back of his throat. It resonated with him until he leaned. 

The cheers roaring out from his colleagues and fellow Naval men and women were enough to have him popping his canopy, holding his helmet in his hand as he fist bumped the air. Ravelling in the moment, the glory, the praise. Jake Seresin lived for the applause—and for the almost good enough but not quite worthy Dagger Spare, he thought he’d done pretty well for a guy who hadn’t made the team. 

“You’re insane!!” Phoenix beamed as she tapped Hangman on the shoulder three consecutive times. “And I’m not gonna tell you you’re great, but well done.” He barely acknowledged her, his eyes catching you in the crowd. The roar of success faded as he handed Bob his helmet—without taking his eyes off you. A smirk crept across his face when he saw you falter for a mere moment. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were utterly and wholeheartedly relieved he was safe. But for a split second as the crowd cheered and separated just enough for Jake to barge his way to you—you couldn’t not let the happiness consume you. 

“Hi wifey—“ Is all Jake manages to say before you’re barreling at him. Running full speed into his arms. With a jump and a graceful lift, your lips are connecting with your husbands as he catches you in his strong arms. Hands on your ass as he kisses you back. Your arms thrown around his shoulder as he deepened the kiss you thought for a while there you’d never get to experience again. “I’m so so—“ You didn’t let him finish as your open palm slapped against his cheek. 

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again, do you hear me?” It wasn’t harsh enough to actually hurt, but it was still with enough force that took Jake aback. “Hangman—do you hear me?” Eyeing off the little gold heart he wore with so much pride.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from beaming at you. He loved you, oh so much. Kissing you again with haste as he nodded against your lips. “So stupid, I can’t believe you do that! Never again okay?” You pleased as Jake kissed you, talking into his mouth as teeth clashed together and tongues danced. Cupping his face to make sure this was real. That he was back and he was safe. “You hear my baby? You got nothing to prove.” 

“Loud and clear ma’am, loud and clear.” Mumbling into your mouth as he held you up by your thighs. The cheering of the entire crew around you made it all the more remarkable. Jake Seresin was a hero, and a beloved one at that. “You’re not off the hook either, pretty girl.” Jake smirked against your lips. “Jumping barricades and barrelling up runways.” It was true, it hadn’t been your finest moment, but you did it all for love. “So stupid wifey, you know that right?” You knew, so the only dignified response you gave was a silent nod. 

“I thought you weren’t coming back—“ You mumbled just shy of a whisper as you let your forehead rest against Jakes as he slowly put you down. Bending over with you to chase your lips again. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. 

“I’ll always come ba—“ Again, you slapped him again. This time a little harder as he trapped your hand in his. Making sure you couldn’t slap him again. “Okay, you gotta stop slapping me.” Jake poked his tongue against the inside of his slightly throbbing cheek as you eyed him off. 

“Sorry, I just needed to make sure you were listening.” Racing past the bridge of the carrier where both Admiral Beau and Admiral Bates stood. Chaos flew low and close as you looked up overhead. She held her finger up to the glass. Giving the admirals the bird before her right engine cut out. “But I’m so proud of you Jake—you brought them home.” 

“So I’m off the hook?” Jake asked as he raised an eyebrow, cocking the corner of his lip slightly as you shook your head. Laughing. 

“Oh, oh no—no no no Jacob, you are most definitely not off the hook.” You called him Jacob, he knew he was in shit when Jacob slipped past your lips. “But for now I think you deserve to have your moment.” You gestured to the crowd around you now cheering on Chaos and Rooster as they landed in the barricade. “Go celebrate your victory Lieutenant.” 

“I love you, Wifey!” Jake beamed as he stepped back, immersing himself in the crowd around him. “Love you to the moon and back!” He grinned before turning around, finding his way to the two people he risked it all for. 

“I love you all that much more.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

It had been a few weeks since the Uranium mission had come to its completion. The Admirals had made it abundantly clear that the ragtag team of aviators who had grown to be more like family than just colleagues could have a few precious weeks of unrestricted leave for their duties and sacrifices. Bradley Bradshaw and Robert Floyd had chosen to stay in North Island; They weren’t leaving until they knew for sure that Chaos Kazansky was going to be okay. For you and Jake? Things had mellowed out, settled down and you were both working through the underlying issues that were still plaguing whatever future you were both preparing to have with one another. 

Like today for example, you were both about to find out the paternity results of the DNA test Jake had taken for Marissa. He knew it wasn’t his kid, but he knew you needed that in writing. 

“Okay ladies cough up.” The Miramar Base Hospital smelt of sterile everything but the nurses station? They smelt of that Ariana Cloud Perfume and whatever food had been on offer in the cafeteria that day. “Who owes me what?” You teased as the three ladies sitting behind the glass fished out their wallets and all handed you a ten dollar bill. Much to their own displeasure. You smirked, collecting your earnings with no sympathy. 

“Much appreciated ladies—“ You winked. When Jake had first started doing the rounds for Chaos, you’d gone with him one time early on. The ladies at the front desk had mentioned Jake would always stop and have a chat—nothing malicious, nothing sinister behind it. He just enjoyed the praise he received. And you saw nothing wrong with that—but you’d started an underground betting ring not three days later with the nurses. If your husband was gonna act the foot? The least you were gonna do was make some extra money off him. “Someone ask him about his call sign next time he stops by, if he says anything else besides the fact he was left hanging by a girl he had a crush on in highschool he’s a liar—“ You picketed the cash as you turned on your heels. “Fifty Bucks ladies, take it or leave it.” 

“You look rather nice today Commander?” One of the nurses cooed as she hollered down the hall after you. You weren’t really sure what she was on about to be honest, you were just in a pair of old jeans and a sweater. Maybe it was the brown hair you now wore with pride. Jake had been right, Blondes did have more fun and you had certainly had your fair share during your time back at Miramar. You weren’t meant to be a blonde. So back to your roots you went. “Anything in particular got you all dressed to the nines?” 

“Just enjoying the rest and relaxation ladies, nothing else to it.” You smiled back at them before making your way further into the hospital—running into your husband and Bob shortly after. “I was just coming to see Chaos? How is she?” You asked Bob as Jake took you under his arm, pulling you closer to his side as he kissed the top of your head. It still smelled of brown box dye. He’d helped you colour it back a few nights prior. That in and of itself should have been a mission he had taken more seriously. 

“Awake, she wanted to be with Rooster for a little while.” Bob explained softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee, do you want anything Commander?” You still weren’t all that keen on everyone calling you commander, shaking your head softly you sighed as Bob stood before you with tired eyes. 

“I’m good, and would you please just call me Hawk if anything Bob? Even Y/n’s totally fine—you guys are family. I don’t want you calling me Commander if we’re not on duty or working together.” 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll see you guys a little later.” Bob was tired, he walked the halls like a ghost of his former self. He and Rooster had been tag teaming for weeks and you knew Jake was worried about them both. 

“God I feel awful.” You mumbled into Jake's shoulder. “We should do something for them.” 

“Only thing we can do is just be here for them.” Jake kissed the top of your head before making a cheeky remark. “Commander Seresin.” He expected the elbow he copped to the ribs but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “Ohh—“ He doubled over for a moment as he stilled in his tracks, watching as you kept walking down the hall. “Okay, I definitely deserved that.” 

“Bet you thought it was gonna be you who made commander first, didn't ya hot shot?” You teased over your shoulder as your husband caught back up to you. “What was it again? Always the Lieutenant Junior, never gonna make it to Rear Admiral?” Quoting the remark Jake had made during one of your more heated arguments. “I’m sure you’ll catch up, Lieutenant.” 

“I liked you better when you were just a lieutenant commander—“ Jake taunted as you both rounded the corner. Laughing you just shook your head. “So cocky now—someone better tap you on the head before you fly too close to the sun there, Icarus.” 

“You know I don’t fly, Flyboy—“ You taunted back as you reached for Jake's hand, walking side by side towards the office of Dr. Sanders—she’d called you earlier that same morning to confirm the results of Jake's paternity test had come in and as had your fertility checks. “And before you say anything, no—I’ve seen the way you fly, I’m not getting in one of the tin cans with you.”

“Javy said he’d take you up if you wanted to?” 

“Oh fuck off—“ You couldn’t hold back to scoff. “You know I’m terrified of flying, never in a million years would you ever get me up in one of those things.” It had always been something you’d pushed to the wayside, but even when you flew commercially, you needed anxiety callers to keep you from panicking. “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“Ah, there’s the lovely couple!” Dr. Sanders greeted you both with a wide smile as you approached her door. “Come on in, we have a lot to talk about.” 

“All good news I hope?” Jake questioned as he let you enter first and pulled your chair out for you. A kind but almost jarring gesture. The look on Dr. Sanders' face said it all though—it wasn’t. Fuck.

“Mr Seresin, how sure were you that this child wasn’t yours?” She asked and for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. Holy shit, was Jake actually a father? To another woman’s child? 

“Fairly certain I could back my entire career on the matter, why?” Jake still expressed so much confidence in the matter at hand, he never once wavered from his standpoint. It was almost admirable. He sat beside you, reaching out for your hand because he knew if anyone was freaking out right this second it was you—running the pad of his thumb across your palm. 

“Remind me to never second guess your better judgement, you’re not the father Jake—I’m not sure whether to say congratulations or my condolences but biologically speaking no, that child isn’t yours.” 

“That’s exactly what we wanted to hear.” Jake smiled as he turned his cocky attitude towards you fully. “Never doubted it for a minute.” 

“I’ve already informed the other party, she sends her best wishes.” Dr. Sanders sighed before she opened the tan folder on her desk. “Now—onto you little miss, what am I going to do with you.” She sent you a soft smile. This was never an easy part of her job, but education was key.

“Lay it on me doc, I can take it.” Your hand squeezed Jakes just a little tighter as you shifted in your seat. Knowing whatever Dr. Sanders was about to tell you was going to knock the wind from your lungs. 

“Y/n, you have blockage in your left fallopian tube, that means that when sperm are trying to make their way to an egg the blockage is stopping them before they can fertilise.” You really didn’t know what to say as you sat shocked in silence. “It doesn’t necessarily mean a natural conception isn’t possible, it just means that the chances are less likely and if you do ever decide to have children, prenatal vitamins and hormone treatments will aid in the process. And hopefully whatever sperm does make the journey, they take a right instead of left.” 

“Is there anything we can do to remove the blockage?” You asked softly, there was a small part of you who didn’t want to know the answer. But you asked regardless. 

“There’s surgical procedures we can schedule you in for—but they're all quite major and can lead to even more pressing complications like infertility overall.” Dr. Sanders explained. “It’s better to leave well enough alone and hope that the one you still have can come through, otherwise? There’s IVF treatments, adoption—“ Dr. Sanders made it abundantly clear to both you and Jack in her office that you were, in fact, not broken. She’d seen too many women come through her doors that wore the same face she was currently looking up. “You my dear are not broken, you just need to take a few extra steps.” 

“I’m—uh, can we take home all the information you have on all the options please?” Jake could hear it in your voice how scared and upset you truly were. All he could do in the moment though was reassure you that he was there, right beside you. Squeezing your hand to keep you grounded in reality. “We’ll go over everything at a later date.” 

“Of course, and if you ever need a consultation you know where to find me.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

“When are you gonna go up with Hawk?” Coyote smirked at you through the mirror of the free weight section of the base gym. Finishing your set of lateral raises, you huffed out a groan when you placed the weight down. It’s a bad dream by Good Charlotte played through the speaks as you looked at Javy through the mirror. His smugness rubbing you the wrong way immediately. 

“Who told you I ever would?” Two more weeks had passed since the events of the uranium mission and new postings were starting to trickle in. You’d yet to receive yours, but Jake had reciprocated his. A full time position here in North Island. If he wanted it. He’d get to accept—waiting to see what would come of you. 

“Uh, your husband?” Javy sent you a look as if to say who else would’ve told him that. “You two seem good these days?” He asked, still standing behind you in the free weight section, looking at you through the mirror. “Seem happy?” It was no secret to anyone that knew you and Jake that you had your demons, but over the last few weeks, amongst everything else going on—you’d seemed to work a few things out. 

“I think we’re gonna do a few couples therapy sessions but yeah, we’re good.” You smiled over at Jake who’d been doing some boxing with Payback. “I’ll never find a better part of me Javy, and honestly I’m starting to think that I'd rather be here for him than anywhere else in the world for myself.” 

“He loves you.” Javy smirked softly as you turned to face him. “I remember there was this one time I had to really reel him in from going fully off the rails just after you’d left.” You’d never heard Coyote speak his truth on the matter before. “He was fucked Hawk—he knew he drove you away but was just too stubborn to admit it to anyone around him let alone himself.” 

“I wasn’t innocent in the whole thing—“ You added as you let your eyes linger back over to Jake, he’d lost his shirt somewhere along the long as he held the pads for Payback. A thin sheen of sweat covering him head to toe. “But you like because and you love despite.” 

“You did what you had to do.” Javy added, only to change to conversation seconds later back to his original question. “Come in Hawk, one ride—come up with me for service checks?” 

“I dunno Coy—“ You tried to protest, your fear of flying all consuming. But it was to no avail.

“You can’t be a commander without having flown once—“ You’d technically made Commander rank four weeks ago, but the official ceremony wasn’t until January. It wasn’t a question you could keep avoiding any longer, both Jake and Javy pestering you to no end about this joy flight. Were you particularly interested? No—but if you had to do it once to get them off your back it seemed as though the answer had to inevitably be a yes.

“Honestly? What's the worst thing that could happen?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner

[justatypicalwizard]

Dream eater | Bakugo Katsuki

✦ Slight angst. Bakugo is an eternal living dream eater. Slight self ship when it comes to the readers character.

✦ Inspired by a Webtoon series which I strongly reccomend: Eaternal Nocturnal

✦ Word count: 2,7k

✦ Warnings: none

Thinking about Bakugo who is a dream eater. During the day he wanders the world with a physical body that doesn't need much to sustain it, he doesn't even have to eat if he's not in the mood. Using his abnormal persuasion skills on some random landlord he convinced them that he's a tennant so he doesn't even have to pay for it.

All of his daytime existence is just an endless stroll with nothing specific to do. Yet, this changes during the night.

Bakugo sleeps, that's when he enters his dream eater form. It's golden, celestial and slightly transparent with sparkling tatoos of the sun, moon and various spirals embeded onto his skin. He floats around the city trying to fulfill himself with dreams.

Back in the day when people were more superstitious their dreams were a whole different world. They thought of magic, wealth, happiness, demons and signs. They believed that dreams had meaning, they wanted to remember them when they woke up. Now they no longer care for them. Today's dreams and shallow and predictable. People don't see sense in them, often not even remembering them.

This very seriously starves Bakugo as he needs to gather more and more tasteless dreams to survive. This also made him starved emotionally as he sees no more sense into his eternal existence which only makes him more annoyed, the eternal nothingness.

It all changes when one night he stumbles upon your dream. It's something different. Rarely ever does a human produce more than one dream a night, but you? You popped out three whole, crazy dreams that filled Bakugo up to the brim not only in case of his starving stomach but also with satisfaction. When he looked down at you with his golden eyes he felt... good.

You never dissapointed him and so he started to visit you daily, feeding on your dreams while roaming through your apartment to look at various small tokens of your personality. He found it quite cute how overwhelming your place was. There were plants, books, stupid little things like a ruler with a face or a big, fluffy pen everywhere. It was also a bit messy but he learned to ignore that fact.

Dream eaters scarcely ever met one another. They signed up for isolation, not wanting to claim each others feeding place. Because of that no one told Bakugo how dangerous it was to play for too long with one human, especially the one with crazy dreams.

One night when he was dipping his fingers in the matery of your dream, ready to pull it out you suddenly turned your face to him and opened your eyes.

He didn't know what to do for a split second when you asked him a question.

"Are you a dream?"

He nodded, fixated on the thought of gettion out of here.

"Is this a lucid dream?" You asked once more, propping yourself up on your elbows and rubbing your eyes.

"Yes."

He answered, hoping you would buy the lie.

"Oh, I hate lucid dreams, I'm always so tired after them." You put your feet on the floor and Bakugo jumped away like from fire.

Even though it was his chance to run he still found himself standing next to you and looking at what you were doing. At first you pinched yourself a few times. When it didn't bring you back from you 'dream' you started to kick you bed frame. After a few 'ouch' and 'fuck' you were getting annoyed. How come you couldn't get out of your dream? You had to wake up early tommorow!

"Guess I'll just do the thing that always works." You sighed stepping closer to your balcony door.

When you were about to flip yourself over the handrail of your balcony Bakugo stopped you, grabbing you by you pijama's collar.

"Stop, just go back to sleep." You looked at him as if he was an idiot.

Go back to sleep... in your dream? Looking at the bed you shrugged and went under your cozy cover one more time. Soon you fell back asleep and Bakugo breathed out an air of relief. He could have literary killed you just now. He really forgot how stupid people are.

For the next few weeks he avoided your place but it's hard to give up on a sweet treat once you tasted it. Earlier Bakugo thought other peoples' dreams were bland but now, when he had a good comparison, he felt it deep down his stomach. No dream tasted like yours. He convinced himself that several days were enough for you to forget the whole thing, to become unaware once again.

That night he found himself inside the well known apartment where you slept sweet and soundly. It was supposed to be only a moment, he would just grab a single dream and go. Yet, your softly turning form mesmerised him. As he came closer and closer, reaching his hand out to tangle his fingers into your dream your eyes fluttered open once again.

Did you sense him? You shouldn't even see him, most people didn't. But your look was focused enough to tell him otherwise.

"Wow, I'm having the same dream once again. Is it also lucid this time?" You asked with somewhat a hint of excitement in your sleepy voice.

"Uh, yes. Just don't jump the fuck out of the window again."

"Okay, okay. So, what are you doing here my dream hot thing?" Bakugo wondered whether you'd be embarassed if you discovered it was reality.

"Eating your dreams." Why make up shit when you already think he's imaginary.

"Oh, what?" You gave that thought some time. "How do they taste?"

This time it was Bakugo who was thinking. It was hard to name a specific taste, at least one that a human would understand. Your dreams tasted like satisfaction, creativity, happiness and care. Bakugo didn't even have to talk to you to know what a person you were.

"They taste good."

"Will it do anything to me?" Why should you be concerned with such a thing? It was all a big dream for you, everyone knows that nothing can really hurt you in a dream.

"No. You didn't notice earlier."

"So you've been doing it for some time now?"

"Yep."

"Huh, great." You laughed slightly. "I'll have to write a fanfic about this when I wake up."

You turned your butt his way and snuggled into your warm covers. Guess you were no longer interested in him. Bakugo kinda regretted that he couldn't talk to you more.

Next time he went to your place at nigh a strong headache hit him the moment he crossed the threshold. A very unpleasant thing sat proudly above your head. A bluish dreamcatcher dangled slightly when Bakugo locked eyes with it.

Those damned things. Earlier people used them to secure their dreams from Bakugo's kind. Did you know about it? Did you actually know that what happened every night was reality? Did he blow his cover? Guess he can ask you because you were up once again. You were getting quicker and quicker in waking up upon his presence.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, scrunching his nose at the pain and pointing at the small token.

"Uh?" You were still sleepy. "What?"

"Take that thing off!"

When he raised his voice you stared at him in awe but did as he asked. You stuffed the dreamcatcher in a drawer and looked back at Bakugo, unsure what to do next.

"What was that?" You asked as he massaged his temples to get rid of the pain poundering in his head. Now that the catcher wasn't directly above your sleeping form it had way less power but Bakugo still felt it slightly.

"Why do you have it?" At this point he was sure he blew his cover and you'd start to freak out any second.

"It was a gift, from a friend. I just thought it was cute. You don't like it?"

"How can a fucking dream eater like a fucking dreamcatcher?" He spat out.

Both of you were quiet for a while before you asked.

"Is this really a dream?"

There you are, he's overdone it. He played with fate and that's what he gets. It was the first time in his life when a human seriously suspected anything about him.

Before he knew your hand flew through his biceps, not stopping when it reached its surface. His unearthly body was untouchable for you but a small trail of light followed your fingers as if you were playing with sparklers.

"What are you?" Even though a weird creature appeared i front of you in the middle of the night you were not sacred wich supprised Bakugo.

"I've already told you dumbass, a dream eater."

"Then can you come and eat my dreams a bit earier? I've been tired lately because of this waking up in the middle of the night."

And so he did come earlier. Bakugo went to bed early but he started even earlier. He was at your place around 10 every evening and you'd spend an hour or so together. He had no idea why you accepted his person or why you weren't freaked out by him. Maybe you've done some research on dream eaters? Nah, that would totally scare you. Bakugo knew what type of bullshit people came up with on the Internet. Besides, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself he was in fact a part of your world - he wasn't. You couldn't have known anything about him. Then why did you greet him with a smile every time?

"So, you do have a body?" You asked one night, looking at his golden intangible form with curiosity.

"Duh, why wouldn't I have one?"

"Then why do you come here like this?" That question threw him off board.

Bakugo was not one to voice out his failures, even more so his fears. And it was fear keeping him from you. There were too many times when Bakugo would loose someone, some human that he felt a connection with over the fact that he had to hide his true identity. He could never stay the night because he feared something might happen to him during his deep slumber. He could never stay with someone because at one point it would spill out that he never ages. He never let anyone deep nor close because he had nothing to share, nothing that would sound fitting into the humans' world. He had no work, no school, no earthly hobbies as they all felt... out of his reach.

All he could ever achieve was short, fake love that ended as soon as they even tried to get closer. This was something Bakugo promises not to fuck around with but he would lie if he said he didn't, for a split second, think about comming to you in his physical body, about touching you and feeling you.

"So?" You were persistent in your questions and Bakugo should tell you off, scold you and leave this second but instead he found himself grunting and nodding.

It was normal for him to aimlessly wander in the daylight, yet this time he had a goal that kept him mind occupied. It felt detached to take the stairs up your apartment complex, real stairs. To hear his footsteps stop just in front of your door. He's never seen them from this side. He rang your bell and waited.

Soon your unfocused face showed up in the creak that emerged when you opened the door.

"What's the matter?" Finally you looked at who was disturbing you late in the afternoon. You looked the man up and down, he was not anyone you knew but also not a stranger.

"Let me in or I'll come later through your window." Bakugo grunted under his breath like someone was about to eavesdrop.

"No way." Your mouth hung open as you gave him another look before fully opening your door.

He quickly went inside, shoving hands into his pockets, feeling out of person. It was utterly stupid what he was doing.

"I'd never say you'd have piercing. I mean, I did thing you would be blonde but the piering and tatoos? Not a chance I'd guess that." The man heard your laugh from behind him as you navigated through your apartment. "Tea? I don't normally drink coffee at this hour, I can't fall asleep later."

"Mhm." He mumbled out looking around your place. He knew it well but felt as if he was here for the first time. It all looked so different, so much more real when he could finally touch it.

You placed two steaming mugs on the small table in the centre of your living room. Well, the cramped students apartment was whole a big living room but it was not important for him. You were the thing he came here for.

"So what'cha wanna do?" You plopped down on a could, holding up your knees to your chin.

He started to visit you even more often. Sometimes he 'stayed the night' falling into a deep slumber on your couch and emerging in a golden hue. You wanted to see it but it came out you spotted shit, expecting a witch-like transformation. Instead you blinked and there were two Bakugo in your room. It still blew your brain of course. You would babble about your day, what went on at the university, what your co-worker did at luch, how your friend got a new dog until the moment you fell asleep, Bakugo watching you all the time.

Before he had the opportunity to accept it, he was already living for those nights with you.

Every second he spent alone he was thinking about you. Sitting lonely in his poorly furnitured apartment, strolling up and down the street, floating through the night air. All this time he waited for your next meeting.

"How does your life look like Katsuki?" You felt relaxed enough to ask him such a question, though he had to admitt you were not one to hide your feelings or shy away from hard topics.

"It's..." He didn't want to pause but finding the right word came out difficult. "It's fucking long."

"I bet." You giggled. "How long have you been alive?"

"A long time."

"The XIX century or more like medieval times?" You gave him a scrutinising glance, scratching your chin.

"The fuck you wanna know that?"

You just shrugged in response.

The two of you sat on your small balcony, late in the night. Normally Bakugo and you would be asleep by now. You deep in a real slumber and him wandering your apartment like he owned it. Today it was different. Bakugo didn't feel like waking up in his celestial body. He didn't like the idea of loosing the ability to smell your shower gel and feel your weight on the opposite side of the couch. Now you were looking up, into the starry sky, laying your chin on your knees, hiding in your way too big sweater.

"I can't imagine eternity. I feel like a single semestr on the university is taking forever. How do you manage like that?" You look him in the eye. "What do you live for Katsuki?"

He didn't want to say it because it means he can loose everything earlier. If he won't say it then he can still come to your place, without earlier notice, without care because he's a celestial being and he has this whole world up his ass. He can leave it like it is, let it breathe longer before it suffocates under the weight of his being. He can finally have something in his life if he only keeps his mouth shut.

"Now I live for you."

You blinked a few times.

"Now?"

He shrugged, a small pitful laugh escaping his throat. "Someday you'll be gone." He turned to face you. "So now I live for you. Someday I'll live for nothing."

Again.

It was hard to properly process what came out of the unerthly, lucid creature that Bakugo was but it all became more clear once he pushed you into the cold tiles of your balcony. He was more physical than you could ever imagine.

Bakugo was there all the time, close to you, waiting for you, cheering on you and loving you. Sometimes you felt guilty for it, knowing that one day you'll go and you will never feel anything again but he'll stay here for eternity.

He knew, Bakugo knew about it but every second that you gave his life a meaning was worth it.