#this is a redo of a post I did over a year ago
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6:47am - Georgia
By the time my alarm finally goes off, I’ve already been awake for at least an hour. I didn’t sleep very well last night, I think I woke up twice. I roll over to grab my phone, which has somehow made it to the floor. I guess it’s time to actually get up. I shake off my blanket and sit up, my alarm still blaring. I lean down and grab my phone, silencing the alarm with the button on the side. 6:47am, ew, at least it’s almost Friday. Sixteen texts, all from my math class group chat. My teacher posted the grades last night. I guess I was asleep or at the game. What’s the website again? I might as well check my grade now. Power something. Before I can think of it, I remember there’s an app.
“Peach? Are you up?” I hear my dad ask, followed by a knock.
“Yeah,” I respond, yawning. Username… What did Mom make it? This was my first test of the year, so I’ve never actually logged in before. I’m sure she sent it to me.
“There’s no hot water this morning,” Dad tells me.
“That’s fine, I showered last night,” I reply. As soon as I got home, I showered and passed out. Our game went on forever, we barely won in the third set. Coach gave me about a five minute in the second set break before she threw me back in. At least my shoulder doesn’t hurt this morning. I turn to my left, giving it a slight stretch. Just kidding.
“Breakfast in twenty,” he informs me. I don’t say anything in response. I hear him knocking at Lucy’s door, relaying to her the same thing he told me.
I find the username and password in my texts with Mom. The username is just my name and the password is her usual password to everything. 1122050407010119. It looks like a random assortment of numbers, but it’s actually all of our birthdays strung together. I type them both into the app and wait for it to load. I think I did okay on the test. Math isn’t my strongest class this year. The home screen pops up and I press on my math class. I have a C? 72/100 on the test. Shit. That’s three points away from failing.My school doesn’t do D’s, so anything under a 70 is counted as an F.
There’s another knock on the door, quieter this time, I’m guessing it’s Mom. “Good morning, love, are you awake?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” I stand up, leaving my phone on my bed. I can’t believe I got a C. I’ve never gotten a C. At least it’s only the first test.
“Can I come in?” Ugh. Not now.
“I’m getting dressed.” I still need to figure out what I’m going to wear today. There’s no game, which means I don’t have to dress up. Thank god. I’m too tired to think of an outfit.
“I can wait,” she says.
“What do you want?” I ask her, slightly annoyed. I open my closet and see clothes everywhere. I really need to do laundry.
“I want to talk to you about something,” she replies.
“Dad already told me about the shower.”
“It’s not about the shower.” What does she want? There’s no way it’s about my test. She and Dad stopped checking my grades years ago.
“Okay. You can’t talk to me about it later?” I quickly change into a t-shirt and my last clean pair of jeans. Black on black, nice. My jeans feel a little loose, so I grab the only black belt off my shelf. It’s actually Mom’s belt, she let me borrow it months ago. I forgot it was still in here. Should I even wear this? Whatever, it’s fine. Mom’s expensive belt it is.
“Are you upset?” I just got up five minutes ago. What does she need at seven in the morning?
“No, just tired,” I sigh, dragging a brush through my tangled hair. If the grades are up, that means we’re definitely getting our tests back today. Great. I can’t wait to see how bad I did.
“Did you sleep okay?” I roll my eyes. Really, Mom? I don’t feel like having a conversation through the door.
“Just come in.”
The door opens and in steps Mom. She seems to be in a good mood this morning. Can’t relate.
“Hi,” she greets softly. I don’t turn around.
“What?” I bluntly reply. I’m staring at her through the mirror.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I lie, “I’m just tired.” If I tell Mom that I did bad on my test, she’s just going to tell me it’s okay. It’s normal to fail sometimes, love. That’s not what I want to hear right now.
“Georgia-”
“What do you want, Mom?” I interrupt. I wish she’d leave me alone.
“What’s wrong?” She’s standing behind me, watching me with concerned eyes.
“You had something you wanted to talk to me about,” I remind her.
“That can wait. What’s bothering you?”
“Seriously? You came in here to tell me something and now you’re not gonna tell me?” I’m frustrated now.
“I’ll tell you after you tell me what’s bothering you,” she says. She reaches for my shoulder, I pull away.
“I already told you. Nothing,” I lie for the second time. I know she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t care. Mom lies, I can too.
She frowns, clearly not satisfied by my answer. “We both know that’s not true.”
“So now you’re calling me a liar?” I retort.
“Georgia-”
I cut her off again, “Tell me or get out.”
She doesn’t respond. I know she’s not going tell me whatever she wanted to say. Whatever. I’m not surprised. Not telling me things seems to be her favorite thing to do these days.
“I’ll leave you alone,” she finally says, “Breakfast will be ready soon, okay?”
“Dad already told me.”
“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” she pauses, “I love you.” Her eyes meet mine for a second before I quickly look away.
Mom stands there for a few more seconds before quietly leaving. I return to my phone, maybe I read the grade wrong. I log in again and wait for it to load. Wrong password, dang it. I always forget the order. I try the password for the second time and it lets me in. Algebra 2, C-. Nope, didn’t read it wrong, I still have a C. Great. Maybe Ms. Stevens will let me do corrections or extra credit or something. I don’t know. I’ve never gotten a grade this low before.
#this is a redo of a post I did over a year ago#one more redo coming.... sometime#then I guess I continue#who knows#sm#the sims 4#georgia#charlotte#georgia pov#somethingmore
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PAPRIKA
#paprika#my ocs#its been one million years since i've painted for fun#body horror#did like 90% of this over a month ago on stream and then put it away cause i didnt know what to do w the hands lmao#still not into it but i gotta put it down i gotta say 'fuck it good enough'#IM FULL OF SHIT IM REDOING THE HAND POSES RN LOL#of course right after i post i figure out a better one anfbakfjskdbrjs#my art stuff
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good morning it's time to blog
#my wife came back from what I thought was gonna be surgery but ended up being a lot easier#so im ready to sit on my ass and do fuckall on the internet again. woo#I need to start... sewing. for kupocon. I just need to redo the tunic and redo the shirring on this taobao dress I got#but that implies clearing out space to do it in the apartment which is haaaaaard...#I've been in a weird creative run lately I think because of like. stress. there's been a lot of changes around lately#and I'm essentially like. one of those animals that if you stress them out too much they just fully keel over#but! I did finish my stickers for them which I haven't posted because I forget.#can u imagine if I had to like. post for a living. I'd have starved years ago im sooo not made for social media#I need to post again some time.... oh well!
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The Prince - Chapter Ten
A/N: Hello! I apologize that this is late, I meant to post last night but then I facetimed by bestie for 4 hours and got drunk. ANYWAYS, I present to you the final chapter of The Prince. Thank you so much for all your love and support on this story! I hope you enjoy this finale <3
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.6k Synopsis: Finally, we see the end of Jace and the reader's story.
Warnings: smut
Previous Chapter
Rhaenyra is understandably furious when Jace comes to see her the next morning. He had not wanted to leave you for long, so all he told her was a quick summary of the events in your room. She had wanted to rage, had wanted to know exactly everything that happened, wanted to see the proof for herself, but when he asked to postpone the meeting, she read the look in his eyes. It was fear. It was fading, but it was still there. Fear for you, fear for himself, fear that everything he had wanted was slipping through his fingers.
So she had let him leave, let him go to you, as long as he promised to find her first thing in the morning. Her rage had not abated in the night.
“If I could kill him again, I would,” she says, looking at the, thankfully, light bruising along his neck. Jace pulls back from her, not wanting the attention the bruises now gave him.
“Did you send word to the Iron Islands?” he asks.
“I sent a raven last night to his brother, the Lord Blacktyde."
“What does this mean for our standing?” he asks. Last night, besides his thoughts of dread that he almost lost you, he was also plagued by what the realm would think. Their position was still so new, to have an attack on his life so soon—
“The only thing the realm will know is that Lord Blacktyde attacked Y/N and the two of you fought him off,” Rhaenyra says.
“The two of us," Jace says softly. He brings his eyes to his mother's. She watches him delicately, like he might break with just a touch. "I'm fine, Mother," he says. She nods.
"I know."
"It looks worse than it is," he says. He wishes he could pull the collar of his doublet up, just to block them from her sight, and yours. Your eyes had been on the bruises all night long. "What of Y/N and I?” he asks. Rhaenyra smiles, her earlier rage ebbing away.
“Y/N saved your life, do you think I would deny her anything?”
“I was not sure,” he says, his smile spreading.
“I think it’s clear the two of you would do anything to stay together. I won’t get in the way. Before last evening, I had a few doubts, but after what Y/N did for you, and speaking with Baela, I trust this is the right decision."
"Baela?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "What did she say?"
“She seems excited about finding a new prospect,” she says. "Or a few."
"She does."
"You both have found happiness, and that is all I've ever wanted."
“Thank you,” Jace says, taking his mother’s hand with a smile. He feels more at ease, knowing that the events of last night only solidified your love.
The cool air of the gardens heals some of the pain inside of you. Of course, your hand still throbs after the maester had to redo your stitches. You are sore all over and have an angry bruise on your cheekbone, but amongst the flowers and the breeze, you feel light. The nightmare you lived in for years is over.
It doesn't feel real. Even after you went to your chambers this morning, looking down at the wet area the maids had scrubbed clean of Barun's blood, you still felt like you were dreaming. That you'd wake up and he would be waiting for you still.
You had woken up a few times in the night, startled from the dreams playing in your head. Jace had been there. His voice was still strained, but he said soothing words and held you close. He was the reason you could believe that it was over, that it would get easier.
He sent word for you to meet him in the gardens, but as you lap around the outer edge again, you still don’t see him. When you stop, its by the door you skipped out of months ago, to hide from your date.
Smiling, you realize where Jace is. You walk to the alcove with the fountain, the place where Jace first confessed his feelings for you. He is pacing beside the fountain when you walk up.
"Are you hiding from me?" you ask, jostling him from his thoughts.
"Never from you," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist. He left early in the morning, and he hadn't seen you until now. His eyes flit to the bruise along your cheek. It seems to only be getting darker as the day progresses.
"Jace," you say gently. His thumb brushes over the mark.
"He didn't suffer enough."
"It doesn't matter," you say with a shake of your head. "He's gone, and he does not deserve our remembrance." Against your better judgement, you look to the bruises along Jace's neck. Yours is darker, but his take up too much space on his beautiful neck.
"Y/N," he says, seeing the sadness in your eyes.
"I'm sorry, Jace. He never should have even come close to you."
"You never have to apologize for what happened."
"He hurt you."
"He hurt you, too," he says, a hand to your chin so your eyes meet his brown ones. "If this is the mark I must bear, so that he is out of your life, I'll wear them with pride."
"I don't deserve you," you say, a hand to his chest, your eyes starting to water.
"Of course you do," he says. You lean in to kiss his jawline once, twice. Jace is smiling softly when your lips meet his. The hand on your back tightens, holding you flush to him. When you pull back, Jace has a strange look on his face.
"What is it?" you ask.
"Do you remember the first time we came here?"
"Of course."
"You almost kissed me," he says, a shy smile growing on his face.
"That was a recurring pattern in our history, yes," you say. "But seems like we're past that." He smiles as he leans in again, his hand fisting in your hair, kissing your lips. He deepens it, backing you up until your legs rest against the fountain.
"Jace," you say, breaking away as he continues to kiss your face. You laugh when you say his name again. He breaks away, the smile still on his face.
"Sorry, just being back here reminds me of the last time, how much I wanted to kiss you back then," he says. "Sometimes, I can't believe this is real, that you love me back." You are smiling softly as you take his hand and kiss it gently.
"I know what you mean," you say. "It doesn't seem real. It's easier when I wake up next to you. Then I have the proof I'm not dreaming. I don't want to return to my chambers tonight."
"You don't have to," he says, squeezing your hand.
"It's not just the room," you say, "It's not being with you."
"I know, which is why I'm moving you into my chambers permanently."
"Jace, the message that would send--"
"What's wrong with a woman sharing the same room as her husband?" he asks. Confusion passes over your face for a moment, but quickly changes to amazement.
"What?" you choke out, the building emotions keeping you from saying much else. You need him to say it clearly, though.
"My mother has assured me that her blessing still stands. We can marry."
"Truly?" you ask.
"Yes," he says, pulling you close. "Doesn't this make you happy?" He studies your face.
"Oh, it absolutely terrifies me," you say with a laugh. "But it also makes me incredibly happy." He beams at you.
"You have nothing to be afraid of. Not when I'm at your side."
"I love you," you say, a hand to his face.
"I love you."
When he kisses you again, your arms wrap around his neck, and neither of you break away for a long while.
The wedding has been pushed until the bride and groom no longer have bruises marring their skin. The decision was also made that your wedding would be a private event. Although there would soon be a time when you would have to face the realm as princess, you want to stay in your bubble with Jace for as long as possible.
It's a lovely bubble to be in, too. To wake up next to him every morning, to learn more about him, to get to bask in his love and not hide away; you don't take it for granted for a second.
However, as the wedding approaches, the bubble gets closer to popping. You will only have five days of officially being his wife before you have to be presented as his princess.
Jace tries to keep your mind off of it, tries to keep you in the bubble. Still though, your anxious thoughts cloud your happiness.
Laying in bed now, you stare at the ceiling, imagining everything that can go wrong.
"What if they don't like me?" you ask aloud. Jace pushes out of the folds of your dress, wiping at his mouth.
“Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks on a pant.
“Because I’m not what they expected, because our betrothal came out of nowhere.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“To the realm, it will appear so.”
“Y/N,” Jace say with a sigh, his hand tracing a soft pattern on your ankle. “They are going to love you because you will make a great queen. You are kind, smart, and not afraid to fight for the future of the realm.” He kisses your thigh and smiles. “Not to mention, you are so gods-damn beautiful, just a glance at you will have them bending the knee.”
“You exaggerate,” you say.
"I do not."
"You do," you say, "But I love you, still."
“I love you,” he says. “Now please, stop worrying and let me focus on what I was doing.”
“Yes, My Prince,” you say with a smile. You lay back as Jace’s lips meet your center, and this time, you let his mouth distract you from your worries.
Jace has never been happier. Watching you dance with his brother, he can't help the smile on his face. He hasn't been able to all day. From the moment he awoke, to when he finally saw you in your wedding dress, to the celebration now: his smile never fades.
The moment the song ends, he moves towards you, taking you from Joffrey's arms.
"Oh, hello," you say with a grin, falling into step with him.
"Hello," he says with a matching one.
"Joff and I barely finished our dance," you say.
"I didn't want to be apart from you any longer."
"Well I can understand that," you say. He kisses your lips easily.
"I'm so glad I can do that in front of everyone now."
"Me too."
"How does it feel?" he asks.
"Still so strange. Like I'm in the wrong shoes," you say. He shakes his head at you.
"There's something I've wanted to tell you," he says, "And I'm sorry it's on our wedding night, but I need you to know." You look at him nervously. "You've always been worthy. You didn't have to kill Barun and save me, you just had to be you."
You are silent for a moment, tears watering in your eyes. Your fingers are in his curls, playing carefully with them.
"I love you," you say.
"I love you."
"Brigitta," Jace says, his voice sensuously soft. "You are not needed for the night. I can help the princess undress." You look at him through the mirror in your bedroom, a sudden chill racing over your shoulders.
"Very well, Your Highnesses."
Jace doesn't even wait until she's left to come up behind you. His hand snakes around your waist, pressing his body into yours. He makes a sound low in his throat.
"I don't know if I will ever get used to that," you say, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck softly.
"Used to what?" he asks against your skin. His hands trail over your body, like it's the first time they've ever touched you.
"Being called princess," you say breathlessly. Jace's mouth closes on your neck, sucking gently.
"Why?" he asks. His hands move up to cup your breasts. He seems set on distracting you from speaking. He kneads them softly, eliciting a soft moan from you.
"Because I am not--"
"If you say anything about not being worthy," he says, breathless as he continues to feel your body, biting at your earlobe. "I will stop touching you."
"You can't comfort your new bride?" you ask, squirming against his body, the growing pressure there.
"I will do a lot to her," he whispers gruffly in your ear, "But pity her I will not." You grab at his hands, holding him still.
"Jace."
"Fucking look at you, Y/N," he says, meeting your gaze in the mirror. "You were meant to wear these clothes, this crown, this ring." He emphasizes his statement by squeezing your left hand.
"I was meant to wear this dress?" you ask. Jace grins.
"Not for much longer." His hand is gentle as it brushes your hair over your shoulder. Carefully, he pulls at the laces along your back. He moves agonizingly slow. Each time his fingers touch your bare skin, you shudder, until you are covered in goosebumps. Jace laughs against your skin.
"I love you," he says simply, then he lets your dress drop. "Princess."
"Jace," you start, but he cuts you off by turning you around, facing him.
"You better get used to it," he says. "There's no backing out now."
"I don't intend to."
"Good," he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He moves slowly, like he did your first night together. A hand in your hair, he explores your mouth easily. Your hands are on his chest, fiddling with the clasp of his cape. When it falls, it clatters to the ground. Jace pulls back from you with a soft laugh.
"Thank you, Princess."
"Stop that," you say, pulling him in for a quick kiss.
"Not until you're used to it," he says firmly. You loosen the ties at his side and he quickly tosses his doublet aside.
"This one, too," you say, a finger to the loose shirt he wears underneath.
"Yes, Princess," he says with a smirk. "I like when you tell me what to do." His shirt lands in a pile with your dress. His hand cups your cheek as he smiles at you, at your annoyance.
"I'm used to it now," you say, wrapping your arms around him. "You can stop now."
"It is so enjoyable though, Pri--" Your lips meet his, cutting him off. You want none of his slowness tonight. He can taste your need as your tongue slips into his mouth. He hums, bracing a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. The bed seems leagues away as he guides you towards it.
"Y/N," he says in breathless awe, watching your body as you sit on the bed. "You're my wife, my princess." A look passes over his face you know all too well.
"I know," you say, sitting up on your knees, so you are level with him once more. "Now, get up here and fuck your wife." He wraps warm hands around your waist. He speaks against your lips.
"My Princess." He crashes down on top of you, kissing you fiercely. You groan into his mouth, partially because of what he's doing, and partially because of what he called you.
He breaks for breath first, his mouth pink and smiling as he looks down at you. His arms bracket your face. You lean to the side and softly kiss his left hand.
"What is it?" you ask when he keeps looking at you.
"I can't decide between taking my time with you, or taking you roughly." He laughs at the whimper you make. "Slow it is."
"Jace," you say, gasping as his lips meet yours. He bites at your lower lip, eliciting another sound from you. His mouth moves down the length of your neck, leaving slow kisses in his wake.
He says your name, calls you princess, and tells you how beautiful you are, the entire way down your body. He stops at your hip, smirking at the face you pull.
"Y/N," he says lowly, smiling when your body jerks as he slide a fingers a finger through the wet warmth between your legs.
"Yes, My Prince?" you ask. He laughs.
"See, it's not so strange," he says. He adds another finger, both of them deliciously close to your clit, but never fully touching it.
"You were born into the name," you say breathlessly.
"So what?" His fingers slide inside of you. You moan, reaching for him. He holds your hand with his other.. You grip his hand as he pumps slowly. He kisses your inner thigh, slowly, slowly, moving his mouth to your center.
"Jace," you whine.
"Yes?"
"I--" His thumb finally grazes over your clit and you cry out.
"Tell me what you need, Princess." You roll your eyes, but it only makes him work his fingers harder. "Tell me."
"I need your mouth or your cock," you pant. Jace doesn't respond. The moment the words are out of your mouth, his is on your center. His touch is everything you want, and your body thrusts into him. You have devolved to a string of moans, swears, and gasps.
"You taste so good, Princess," he says against your skin. You can't even be annoyed, because when he's between your legs, whispering sweet nothings, it doesn't sound so strange.
"Jace," you cry out, when finally, the building pressure breaks in waves of pleasure. He rides you through it as always, a smile on his face when his fingers slide out of you. He moves up to your lips, kissing them sloppily.
"I'm never going to get tired of hearing my name on your lips," he says.
"I should just go back to calling you My Prince," you say. Your hand moves down to his trousers, working him through the fabric. His eyes flutter at your touch, and his intake of breath is near intoxicating.
"It means something entirely different now," he says, kicking his trousers off. When you touch him, the sound he makes has you smiling.
"You are My Prince," you say, kissing his lips slowly. Jace moans into your mouth.
"I need to be inside of you now," he says. You smile, nodding your head as you kiss him. You release your hand from his cock and he groans.
"So needy," you say, shifting on the bed, pushing him back until his back is against the headboard.
"Can you blame me, Princess?" he asks. You are shaking your head as you straddle his lap. Jace's hands are still greedy, grabbing at you anywhere they can touch. When you align his cock with your folds, his eyes are blown wide, filled with lust and love.
"I love you," you say.
"I love y--" He breathes in sharply as you slip him inside of you. He moans your name, and pulls your chest to his.
"Princess," he says breathlessly as you rock against him. Your arms are around his neck, giving him a view of your annoyed look.
"Stop with that," you say. He grips your hips, moving your body on his.
"I can't."
"I call you Jace, why can't you do the same?" You gasp when he shifts his angle slightly.
"Because you're finally my princess," he says, his breathing growing heavier.
"It's irksome," you say. His lips smile against your neck.
"I'm sorry, princess."
"Jace," you groan, grinding into him until he does, too.
"Let me do it, just tonight," he pants, "I want you to hear how beautiful it sounds." You don't respond, you just grab his face and kiss him. He holds your hips and drives your body against his. You are both quickly approaching your release, and Jace continues to moan 'Princess' into your ear. Per his request, you don't fight him on it. The more he says it, the less it seems ill-suited.
When he finally loses control and finishes inside of you, though, it is your name on his lips.
For a few moments, you are both silent, the room filled with only your breaths. You climb off of him, lying down at his side.
"So?" he asks.
"I could get used to it, I think. But only from your lips."
"That's a start," he says, leaning down to kiss you.
You stand along the balcony surrounding the ballroom, looking down at the throngs of people. The sight is beautiful. Ladies' ballgowns sparkle in the candlelight. Raucous laughter fills the room as wine is passed around.
The fact that all of this is for you feels incredibly wrong.
Just six days ago you were a title-less woman from the Vale, awaiting for you a life of nursemaiding, or marriage to a brute. It feels strange that now, you have what you have always dreamed about. What every young girl has dreamed about once in their life. You were married to a handsome prince. You were a princess. The rest of your life would be nothing but luxuries, and the juxtaposition is still jarring.
And somewhere, still inside of you, you felt as though you don't deserve it. That the life that had been laid out for you was the one you deserved. Your husband said otherwise, but in quiet moments like this, you feel out of place, like you don’t belong.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in red?”
You startle at Jace’s voice. He walks to your side, laughing softly. He is dressed in his finest, as well. The doublet he wears clings to his chest in ways that have you thinking about leaving the party altogether.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says. He leans up against the banister rail, surveying the crowd with you for a quiet moment.
“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” he asks.
“Just making a plan of attack,” you say with a smirk, resting your hand on the railing. The wedding ring on your finger sparkles in the light.
“They’re going to absolutely love you.”
“Untrue. Do you know how many of these men I left in the garden or lied to about a cousin needing my help?” you ask. Jace laughs, shaking his head.
“I think they’ll get over it. Besides, you’ll be queen one day. Whatever bad feelings they may have about you, they’ll put them aside to earn your favor,” he says. Your jaw tightens, reality washing over you that this is to be your life now.
“Y/N,” Jace says, standing upright and taking your hands. He turns over the right palm, looking at the scar there. He frowns and rubs it softly with his own thumb. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You can handle anything this court wields at you.”
“I’m not so sure,” you say quietly.
“I am,” he says. “I’m your husband now, Y/N, you should trust me.”
“I do,” you say, stepping closer to him slightly, meeting his eyes.
“Then trust when I say you’ve got this. And,” he says, squeezing your hand softly, “If we do hate it, we can always return to Dragonstone.”
“I don’t want to run,” you say, glancing out at the crowd. “Just hide.” Jace laughs.
“They’re going to love you, just as much as I do,” he says. He puts a hand to your cheek, making you look into his brown eyes. “In that dress, how could they not?” he asks. You are smiling when he leans in to kiss you.
His hand trails down your back, squeezing your backside playfully. You laugh into his kiss, opening it up with your tongue. Jace backs the two of you out of the light, up against a pillar in the shadow. His mouth claims yours, his hands greedy on your body.
“And just think,” he says, breaking away breathlessly, “If the party gets unbearable, we can always sneak off to do this.”
“Why go to the party at all?” you ask, pulling him back to your mouth with a hand in his curls. He laughs, but you know he won’t let the two of you stay like this for long.
“Come on,” he says when he pulls away. “I want to show off my princess.”
He leads you downstairs, just outside the banquet hall. For another few minutes, you keep him occupied with your lips on his, but then he breaks off.
"I'll announce you in a few minutes," he says, squeezing your hand.
"Dragonstone is always an option?" you ask. He smiles.
"Yes, but you won't need it."
"I love you," you say.
"I love you," he says. You cling to his words, gaining courage from them. He slips into the low murmurs of the crowd, leaving you alone. You hope he will be quick, because you aren't sure how long your courage will hold.
"Your Highness." The voice startles you, and when you turn to see Baela, your heart beat doesn't slow. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to scare you."
"No, no, that's quite alright."
"What are you doing out here?" she asks with a smile. You haven't seen her since the wedding, and before then it was only in passing, or in large groups.
"Jace is going to formally present me," you say. Baela looks at you strangely.
"You're not used to it yet, are you? The title?"
"Not at all," you say with a laugh. Baela does, too, and it makes you relax a little.
"It'll take some time," she says sagely. You nod.
For a moment, it looks like she might leave, but you will hate yourself if you don't say what you must.
"Baela, Your Highness," you say, "We haven't talked very much since everything changed."
"Y/N," she says, smiling as she steps closer. "I want to talk to you, too."
"You do?"
"I know we haven't gotten to know each other, even before . . . everything happened," she says. You look down at your feet. "But I want you to know I'm happy for you. You make Jace so happy. I couldn't ask for anything better."
"Thank you," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "And I just have to say I'm sorry, for taking this from you." She gives you an easy smile.
"Do not worry for me," she says. "This change has given me a freedom I didn't know I could ever have. You have given me that."
"I'm glad for it. And glad for you," you say. "Jace is lucky to call you a friend."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Good luck, tonight. It will go quickly, I think."
"I hope so," you say. She gives you a smile as she enters the ballroom, too.
You stand still for a few minutes, a weight lifted off your shoulders you thought might never be. Knowing that Baela holds no anger for you, makes you believe that the rest might come easily, too.
When a guard waves you towards the door, you are ready. Your husband is on the other side, your family is on the other side. When the doors open and you hear Jace's voice, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Please allow me to introduce my bride, Princess Y/N Velaryon.”
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys x you#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon fanfic
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Time Well Spent
word count: 984 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: post-time skip!Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: suggestive, fluff
warnings: mdni
request: medium guava lemonade with frozen berries for Shinsuke || fluffy-spicy vacation with boyfriend Shinsuke
If you would ask anyone on the street they‘d all agree that Kita was a devoted, patient, and sweet-mannered grandson and when he started dating you two years ago fresh out of university, everyone thought that you were a great match. Walking hand in hand around the small town was almost guaranteed to spark questions of marriage or an armful of some fresh vegetable that an overly excited grandmother wanted to share with the happy couple.
So when you moved in together this summer, there was gossip about an impending wedding, but Kita shot it down immediately. Not, because he didn‘t want to marry you - he would have done so long ago if he wasn‘t worried of rushing you. But because he thought things were too hectic currently to even think about any kind of ceremony. His grandmother had come to visit. Or better, to stay as it seemed. In a surge of energy, she asked a local carpenter to completely redo her house, and, not wanting her to be inconvenienced staying somewhere else, you and Kita were quick to invite her to your new home. The downside was, the walls were very thin and she had been there for over a month. You both already missed the intimacy and freedom you had just acquired and as much as you loved Yumi, you missed having your boyfriend to yourself.
“Are you sure it‘s no problem?“, you asked for the hundredth time as Kita carried the last piece of luggage to his truck.
“None at all, sweetheart.“, Yumi said, patting your full cheek gently, “Ya two deserve some time off. Always workin‘ like that... That‘s not good for yer soul.“
“We‘ll be back in three days.“
“I know.“, Yumi laughed, “Believe it or not, I have lived on my own before, y/n-chan.“
You gave her one more hug, Kita received a pat on the head and together you got in the car, and off you went. The drive to the city wasn‘t very long, luckily and you sighed contently as you watched as the sun set over the many rice paddies you drove past. Kita had his free hand entwined with yours on the middle console and rubbed his thumb soothingly over your soft skin. You couldn’t wait to be alone with him for three whole days and you knew he felt the same way.
“Almost there, dove.“, he said as the truck, seemingly out of place between all the gleaming city cars, turned right on an intersection. As he drove, a big building with flashy castle-like turrets came into view and you were just about to point it out and make a comment about how comical it looked when Kita pulled into the parking lot.
“Uhm, babe? Are you sure this is the right place?“
“Very.“, he said as he opened the door for you and held out his hand to you.
You looked around, noting the many windows with the curtains drawn. It was barely dinner time, you expected there to be a lot more bustling.
The reception desk had you do a double take. Only a small opening in an otherwise milky window gave any indication that there was a person on the other side.
Kita retrieved your keys and held out his hand again.
“Ya ready, dove?“
Your eyes fell onto the many brochures tucked into a little stand next to the reception and realization dawned. This was a love hotel. Did… did Kita book it accidentally? It wouldn‘t be strange for your sometimes densely innocent boyfriend to think that maybe for your special weekend off, he should look for something extra romantic. And what was more romantic than a hotel with the word love in the title?
As you waited for the elevator you tried to think of a way to bring it up without sounding patronizing. The thought process was an adorable one for sure.
“11… 11… 9, 10, 11. Here we are.“, he announced and opened the door.
The room was a whole lot tamer than you expected, judging from the dark atmospheric hallway and those brochures in the lobby. It was pretty cute, actually. The bed was ginormous and strewn with rose petals like you‘d expect a honeymoon suite to be. It had a soft, traditional feel to it. Setting down the bags by the door and kicking off your shoes you went to explore and froze in your tracks when you saw a whole array of condoms on the coffee table by the large TV. You should tell him.
“Honey, I love that you booked the hotel and everything-“ You were cut off by him coming up behind you and kissing your neck. His strong arm wrapped around your soft tummy and pulled you against him. Your eyes fluttered shut and, once you gathered your thoughts, you tried again.
“Did you check the website when you booked it?“
He hummed Yes against your skin, his lips and tongue making it very difficult to focus on what you wanted to say.
Squeezing your eyes shut you decided to just tell him. “This is a love hotel.“
Silence. Kita‘s lips brushed one more time against that spot under your ear that always drove you crazy, then broke from you. You turned around, expecting to see him confused.
And he was. “I know.“, he said with a questioning eyebrow.
You pushed further, worried that your point didn‘t come across. “You… do you know what love hotels are for?“
He nodded. “Yeah.“
With one swift motion, he grabbed one of the condoms from the coffee table and, guiding you backward by your hips it didn‘t take long for you to fall back onto the supremely soft sheets. Kita stood over you, using one hand to undo his jeans, the other to open the packaging with his teeth. He smiled down at your surprised blush. “I‘m very well aware.“
a/n: thank you so much for your request, hon. I hope it was somewhat what you had in mind 😏🌟 @ranscutedoll
And what is a post of mine without a thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for having the sparking idea!
#sunnys lemonade stand#kita x chubby reader#kita shinsuke x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#haikyuu x curvy reader#kita shinsuke x reader#kita imagine#shinsuke kita x reader#haikyuu kita#kita fluff#kita shinsuke#hq kita#kita x reader#kita smut
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@krispycupcakepost I’ll probably redo your ask because I ended up melancholic instead of 🤍🤍🤍happy happy happy🤍🤍🤍 but I’m going to post this because I worked hard on it and I hope you guys like it 🤍🥺
7367 words : Fluff:Angst:Comfort it’s the work’s honesty, I cried 1-3 times I was in my feelings 🥺
Warning: Forced marriage mention / Implication of forced pregnancy- just a brief mention, not even that maybe? But I’m putting the warning just in case 🤔 Dramatic Mentions of Sukuna having a snack 💀
If there was anything that could transcend Time, Pain, Travesty, and hate. It was love.
It’s love that gives some a will to fight, love that inspires others to create unimaginable things, love that transcends ages and can reshape the entire entity of a person. It’s love that sometimes drives a person to live for someone other than themselves.
The way you had cried those years ago when you married your husband after being sold for your Curse Technique. You wanted to marry for love instead you were forced to marry someone who paid for you and you had never met. It was a surprise how happy you could be with him. He was gentle with you, his eyes always held a soft expression when he looked at you. His hand was firm but gentle on your lower back guiding you and keeping you protected by his side when you would accompany him on his outings. That was until the night came when he brought home a “friend”. A shaman. You did your best to stray away from his guest feeling uneasy with just his presence. It raised your skin and left you with a nauseating sensation. You were quick to feature at the moment you could, asking one of the few helpers in the house to tend to them because you were feeling ill. It felt like your afternoon was stretched over days as you waited for your husband to return. Finally the sky faded into night and their voices stopped abruptly. It was quiet for a bit as you sat up expecting your husband’s steps to approach, instead you heard their voice pick up in a short exchange. Then their steps, but they weren’t retreating, they were coming closer until your husband stood in your door, “Y/n, welcome our guest, you may refer to him as Kenjaku.”
—- —- —- —- —-
It was that night that led you to this moment. Your hands running over your stomach, you had a soft smile.
“How are my boys?” You questioned quietly feeling movement and watching as a kick reshaped your stomach briefly. “There’s not much room left for him?” Another kick, “Just a little longer you two, and it’ll be time for you to come.”
That night one of your children had decided he had enough of the squishing and fighting for space. You couldn’t sleep with all the movement and kicking of your stomach. Even your husband who you still wouldn’t allow to touch you as he pleased or speak to you freely and openly as he once did was concerned when he found you looking distressed. Standing outside in the middle of the night, one hand on your lower back the other pressed against your stomach. You could feel him coming before he was near you, “Something’s wrong, one of them isn’t going to make it, or something is happening.” Your husband walked around attempting to put his hand on your stomach. The moment he did all movement stopped, it was always like that. You assumed it was because your children shared your disdain of your husband placing his hands on your stomach. In order to deter him they would stop moving entirely. That wasn’t the case this time, instead they became aggressive, you saw how under the skin two feet were showing kicking repeatedly, it hurt you more this time than any other. You pushed his hand off and the kicking stopped, you could feel slight movement and it stopped. “Nothing is wrong, they seem just as lively as they did before.” You shook your head, “No, something’s wrong, my boys don’t act like that.” Your husband rolled his eyes “and how would you know that?” “BECAUSE I'M THEIR MOTHER.” You snapped at him, “I'M THE ONE WITH THEM, THEY LIVE IN ME, I KNOW HOW IT FEEL TO HAVE THEM BOTH, I KNOW WHEN THEY'RE CONTENT OR DISTRESSED THERES A REASON THEY DON'T KICK WHEN YOU COME AROUND SO WHY WOULD THEY NOW THEY DON'T MOVE THIS MUCH I KNOW SOMETHINGS WRONG YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP THAT SHAMANS ASS YOU CAN'T THIN OR SEE WHEN SOMETHINGS WRONG.” You turned and did your best to get away from him, your time would be up soon, and you knew if there was anything you would hold onto it would be your boys. But the aching feeling in your gut left you unsure of something else. Would they be okay?
—- —- —- —- —-
In and out, the fading of black from the pain as you finally pushed the nurses off of you. You had to get up, you could lay down for this. You felt like the pain was breaking into your ribs threatening to squeeze your heart and snap your spine the longer they tried to hold you down. Your gasps and struggling cries stopped when you were barely managing to stand on weak legs, “my mother.” You tried to swat away a nurse, “BRING HER.” Your mother was a kind woman who protested against your father selling you off, but being his wife she had no say in his actions. She had arrived to be there with you in your moments but the nurses wouldn’t let her in, even now as you turned, screaming at them and raising your hand against one who had put you through hell the last hours, they finally ran to bring in your mother.
She was the woman in your village who was more experienced in assisting in birth, the reason she really wanted to be by your side. She was there quickly, yelling at the nurses for this and that, looking at your state she knew you’d have to birth another way. She brought you to a tub of warm water where you’d have to stand between a squat and kneel. There is no doubt in her mind that if they would have forced you to lay down any longer at birth you wouldn’t have made it, much less your child.
Yet here you are, holding your child tight to your chest and crying your heart out. You didn’t tell your mother you were supposed to have twins, but the silence that fell over the room where you passed your after birth and there was no second child was unsettling leaving your mom perplexed as to why you were crying so hard. “What wrong y/n,” her voice was cautious as she took your child to help you out of the water that was becoming cold. Clothing yourself haphazardly you brought your freshly bundled child with you and your mother to your private chambers and told her everything.
The way you held your child was obvious, you held no resentment against him for the acts of his father, how could someone so small, fragile and innocent be held accountable for the monstrous actions of a man with no humanity.
His little head of pink hair, little fists and pout. Your tears welling up as you brought him closer to kiss his face. Your mother watched on with a melancholy smile, your heart was torn in two without doubt, you loved your child, but you could never again love his father. The tears in her eyes full of sentiment of how she was happy you could find solace in one person in your life. “You will always have a home with me as long as I live y/n, if you need anything or help you know where you can always find me.” Her soft smile eased your troubles lightly, but you knew your distress would rise when your husband and that shaman would come again.
—- —- —- —- —-
“My sweet boy,” you kissed your son's face repeatedly, “Yes you are my sweet boy.” He cooed up at you as you cradled him in your arms walking through the small garden letting him feel the sun. “Oh you’re so happy today, look at your little red eyes they’re just shining like rubies. My pretty little boy, my heaven, my heart, my love.” He cooed louder as one of his hands grazed your face from how close you held him up, kissing his cheek. His coo’s fell silent and his eyes fell to the side with a displeased look. You turned and saw him, the shaman standing under a tree a distance away. You looked at your son, his eyes lingered longer in that direction before they turned to you. He let out a single “eehhh” before he turned his head away in the opposing direction. You hummed, if he was anything it was expressing, smiling at your son you moved him around resting him against your shoulder and chest making sure the small blankets you wrapped him in didn’t come undone. He squirmed in your hold until you placed a hand on his head reassuring his head on your shoulder and he stilled. A single hand taking a tight hold of your robes, a silent plea, ‘don’t let me go’
You kissed the top of his head, “I’ll never let you go, my little Ryo, as long as I’m alive you will always have a home.”
His little eyes closed, his hold on you never faltered even after you made it into your private Chambers. He didn’t let go even after waking up, your husband and his father walked into your room. You didn’t spare a second glance, your son lazily opened his eyes to look at him, closing his eyes once he saw it was the man you avoided constantly. A face scarce in his life.
“How is he?” Your chest rumbled under him, “He’s perfect, he eats well, sleeps perfectly, doesn’t cry at night, he’s expressive, there’s no doubt he’ll be superior to his father.” Your husband sighed, “Y/n..” you didn’t look, “Husband.” The conversation ended there, even if he said your name in a warning tone you didn’t give a damn, he couldn’t hurt you or your child. The Queen of Binding Vows, if he or the shaman laid a malicious hand on your Child it meant you’d give your life for your child’s assuring he and the shaman would die should either of them act. The second was if either of them were to have part in your death you’d sacrifice your humanity and after life to become a curse over your child to assure even after your passing he would never be alone in this world.
You made your husband and that shaman well aware of the first vow, but not the second one. You wanted them to suffer if they raised a hand against you or your child and you would assure it one way or another.
—- —- —- —- —-
You were content sitting on a stone bench outside under the sun having tea with a friend, a woman with pale skin, brown eyes, her hair was white. She was kind to you the day you met her, going out on your own to buy clothes for Ryomen. He was growing fast, you turned your head and she followed your stare, your pink haired brat was smiling maliciously while cornering an emperor's butterfly. You smiled seeing his eye light up when he managed to cage it between his hands quickly tucking it away into a clear jar he had been running around with. There’s no telling what else he had thrown into that jar. He was six, you would know soon if he had a cursed technique. You turned back to your friend with a smile, “Your child is due any day now isn't it?” She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach, “It is, Uraume seems like a suitable name. My husband is sure that girl or boy it’ll take after him in hair. He persists that even if we both have white hair there's no doubt it’ll manage to take the red patch of hair he has.” You smiled, “The same with my little Ryo, pulled everything from his father’s side and I’m the one who had to carry him around.” She laughed as Ryomen came running up to you standing in front of your legs before he laid his upper body and head on your lap. His arms were spread out over both sides of your legs and you smiled down at him, your hands scratching lightly at his scalp brushing his hair back and out of his sweaty face. He huffed, closing his eyes, letting you scratch at his head, “You're going to meet your little friend Uraume soon, Ryo.” He opened an eye to look up at you with a slight pout, “but you said I was the baby.” You smiled leaning over to pull him up to sit in your lap, “I said you were my baby and you always will be” kissing the side of his face he closed his eyes with a small laugh, “Your Auntie here is having her baby.” He leaned back against your chest looking at her with a faint smile, she was always smiling at him when he would look at her. “What are you gonna call it?” He kicked his feet looking down at his Yukata that was dirty from running around. “Uraume, it’s perfect for the season.” Your friend's voice was soft as she spoke looking at your little blessing, the same child known to be called the cursed child, the fallen one. There was a wave of grief in her heart, everyone knew the story of your child, how he ate his twin brother in the womb, how he’s the offspring mix of a man and curses dna planted into your womb. That shameless shaman did nothing to keep any of it concealed.
“Oh…” You let Ryomen go as he squirmed in your hold, “I wanna get something.” He landed on the ground with a thud and started to run off to where he was before, you watched him, heart squeezing at the smile on his face, he looked happy, he was happy. “How’s your husband, I know it’s a difficult situation…” you nodded at your friend’s question before answering “I told him if he wanted a heir he wanted to bond with to find another wife because I would never let him touch me or Ryomen, I also expressed that if he brought another woman into this house he would be paying for me to live in another location with Ryo. He’s so young he understands, since the womb it’s like he detested his father's presence. As a baby he’d open his eyes to look at him and close them once he saw who he was. He’s never called for him or asked about him. Even the few times I ask if he wants to go with his father he’ll hold onto me tight and refuse to let go. I’d say it’s obvious how he feels about him. As for my husband, aside from coming home from work all he does is sit and drink in the foyer. He never drinks himself under, but he’s not drinking just to enjoy it either. Everyday I beg that it’s his conscience weighing down on him heavier with every year that passes. His family lineage won’t end here I know that much.”
She nodded, patting her stomach, it thrummed under her hand, “I see.”
“I GOT YOU A BUG” Ryomen came running back with the lidded glass jar, Inside was the monarch butterfly and a cocoon on a stick. You took the jar from him and set it on the table, “It’s beautiful Ryo, I Love it.” He stood there proud, his chest puffed out. “Come sit down, you look like you could use a sweet.” He perked up more with a smile rushing to climb onto the bench next to you peeking over the table to see what he could eat.
—- —- —- —- —-
It wasn’t long until Ryomen's 7th birthday, you were excited, even thoughtful, of maybe, possibly letting your husband congratulate Ryomen if he had a technique. Said child was currently curled up to your chest sleeping, holding onto a little tiger plush you had given him for his last birthday. That was until he started whining in his sleep as shuffling around. Thinking it was a nightmare you sat up pulling him into your lap coddling him and pulling his robes open for the cool night air to hit his burning skin. He pressed his head against your neck and you could feel the hot tears as he let out a small cry squirming and curling in on himself. You rubbed your hand up and down his back, “Ryo, are you okay? Ryo,” you kept calling his name quietly as he cried, doing your best to cradle him and rock him. He cried squirming more and it wasn’t until you heard the horrid sounds of bones cracking and he let out louder cries against your neck his little hands letting his tiger fall as his small nails dug into your skin and robe. You held him tighter in panic standing up and trying to get an idea of what you should do, he threw himself back in your arms, back arching and you could see mounds forming under his arms on the sides of his ribs. “That damn curse hurting my son long after.” You rushed around your room calling for a servant ordering an ice bath as you wrapped him in a thin sheet rushing to the bathroom. He cried louder against you and you looked at him, dark marks forming over his skin, and you watched pained as the skin on his sides started to stretch. Your heart and brain were begging one another to make sense of the situation, an ice bath to numb the pain, but you didn’t want to let him go, you couldn’t even if you wanted to with the way he was holding on to you. You stood there doing your best to comfort him in his screams of agony to the point he bit into your shoulder from trying to not scream and resist the pain. The servant tried to take him from you, you told her no and sat both yourself and Ryomen in the cold water. He laid against your chest crying and screaming, as you swaddled his arms in the thin sheet to keep him from thrashing around. You sank down to hold both of you to neck level, your bones were shivering as his cries quieted down to whimpers, his tears were still hot against your skin and he could only gasp and cry out silently. One arm wrapped around him to hold him steady, the other on the back of his head to keep his head steady, you kissed his head and he’d cry. You had to close your eyes when his back arched one last time and red seeped through the thin sheet into the water, you leaned your head back letting out a silent breath as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. “Please,” your voice cracked and your own tears started to fall, your nose starting to become stuffy as you cried in silent distress, “Please don’t take him from me.” You held your breath when he stilled against you, his head knocking against your collar bone, you closed your eyes preparing for the worst, only to see tears in his eyes. Newly formed slits under his eyes, opened revealing a second set of red iris. Black marks on his face started to solidify creating intricate design. You slowly started to get up, being careful not to shake your son around as you started your walk to his room to get him into dried clothes.
It was there when you slowly started to unwrap the linen you saw the new set of arms that were wrapped around his body. You could see clearly where the skin had torn and healed on its own. Your hands grazed his skin carefully and the black marks that were permanently part of his skin. He was born a cursed child, but over everything he was your child and you would love him endlessly. You smiled and leaned over kissing his forehead as his eyes opened, he looked tired as he looked up at you with glossy eyes. A hand reaching up for you. You took his smaller hand in yours squeezing it, “I’m just going to get you new clothes, I won’t leave you okay.” He nodded, his hand slipping from yours. His head fell to the side and he laid there staring off at whatever was in his room, “mommy..” you turned to look back at him over your shoulder. He was just laying there, he wasn’t looking at you, “I love you.” Your worry softened, “I love you Ryo.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“Aw you’re the cutest little thing.” You cooed at your son, he was leaning away from your kisses as you squeezed him and smothered him in love, “stoppp your going to mess up my hair” he pouted running his hands through his hair he second set of arms in fists resting against his hips in such a manner.
You hummed, turning your back to him and crossing your arms , “Fine then, when you look for me I won’t be there when you need me.” He scoffed, eyes falling the edge of his eyes in a bored expression as he tilted his head. “I’m not a baby to fall for your tricks mom.” He turned to look at you to see you had already started to walk away, he pouted and ran after grumbling some as he pulled your arm free wrapping it over his shoulders, “You’re such a dramatic woman.” You hummed not looking at him, he stared up at you as you both kept walking, “I have the feeling that’s the only thing you pulled from me.” Flicking your head to the side you didn’t look at him as he leaned into your side walking with you to who knows where. “Where’s your husband?” Your eyes scanned over the house, “I’m not sure and I’m not interested either.” He hummed with a smile until you both made it outside. The land was covered in snow, tree blossoms vibrant against the pale snow. “Your birthday is coming soon, how should we celebrate?” He slipped from under your arm wandering off into the snow, it crunched under his steps as he walked around to a blossomed tree, you watched, his face was pensive as he acted on muscle memory snapping a tree branch and bringing it back to you. He laid it on the table where you would usually sit with tea and talk to him about whatever he asked. Advice on his technique explaining your own abilities and hoping to help him understand. He walked back, branch in hand, before he stood in front of you, at fifteen he was at your height, you knew he’d be much taller once he fully matured. “I want to go to that place that sells the meat by the plate.” You hummed, “We can do that.” He had a faint smile with slightly upturned eyebrows, he offered you a single blossom and you took it before looking at him and placing it in his hair. He huffed with a pout not resisting your strange displays of affection before you pulled him into a hug kissing his forehead on the mark permanently etched into his skin “My baby.” He smiled as he hugged you back. Closing his eyes he could see the days where he was small and he laid in your chest under the sun.
He remembered clearly as a baby laid in your arms under the sun. The words you’d say, the look on your face, he remembered you saying with you he would always have a home. The warmth of the sun was almost comparable to the warmth of your love. He opened his eyes and it felt like time had passed so fast, his heart ached, fifteen years with you, and it was evident time did not discriminate. He held your tighter tears forming in his eyes, you held him tighter, if there was anything you had learned, it was that you wouldn’t let him go from a hug unless he let go first. It was these moments that made your heart tender. His moments of vulnerability that he would never show. You made sure to hold on extra tight, wiping away his tears and snot, letting him have his time to know everything will be alright. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me alone.” His voice was a broken whisper. He didn’t know it, but at that moment he would be cursing you unintentionally. Your hand on the back of his head, the other rubbing up and down his back. “Ryo,” your voice was soft.
—- —- —- —- —-
You sat alone on that hilltop you had always admired, leaned back and over on a table. One leg crossed over the other as your sighed eyes closed. The sun’s heat bearing down on you as you sipped from your tea. The wind whirled the trees around you, leaves rustling with the symphony or birds. You smiled to yourself, it felt like you were at peace once again. That was until you heard the heavy steps of your son approaching, you sighed placing your tea cup down and turning to him. He wasn’t exactly your little boy anymore. But in your eyes that cheesy smile and small heheh never failed to remind you he was your baby. Before you could speak he sat himself down by the legs of your chair, head leaning back in your lap the same way from when he was ten. The smile reached his eyes when he’d smile sheepishly. There you were brushing his hair back with your fingers, “How’s my baby boy been?” He’d look ahead at the sky or the tree line and ramble on about the day and its events, possible crimes he had committed, or how he was pushing the limit of his technique attempting to find a way to push his domain beyond limits, for it to become limitless.
You knew one day he had accomplished his goal when he had taken on another form. His face changed to make the right side of his face more prominent with a peculiar plate on it, the eyes becoming more prominent. The marking on his body changed also. There was no denying he had doubled in mass, your baby wasn’t a baby, he hadn’t been for a long time.
Still, even when you had heard him referred to as the fallen one. You looked past it all, you knew he was created and born to commit unspeakable acts. But your love for your child was unconditional. Especially when he would come home happy to see you with that boyish grin he had grown up with. You got to see the humanity in him, his expressive side and how he cared for you the older you got. You were his mother, who he loved dearly. The one who raised him, nurtured him, held him in the dark night when night mares would wake him in tears. The one to pick him when he’d fall, wipe his tears away when they began to fall. Brush his hair back and out of the way of his eyes. The one to rub his back and stay up in the night when he’d become sick. You were his mother and you cared for him even after everything his father had done to you, you cared for him and loved him. He saw it fit that he would return that love and care as long as the days stretched.
“Ryomen,” you called him over standing up from your chair with a stretch. He walked over to you from where he was judging Uraume’s cooking. “Let me show you something you might find useful later in life.” You had piqued his interest, “What is it?” You smiled at him, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it but it’ll be better if I explain to you about binding vows.”
—- —- —- —- —-
It was well into your years, you had aged with grace. Your hair had grown long, but you had grown tired of keeping it for all this time. Sukuna had seen the melancholy expression you wore. When he asked why you seemed so sad you expressed how you would need to cut your hair because you felt like you couldn’t keep up with it.
It was then every morning with his four arms, he would use his lightest touch to tend to your hair, brushing it back in the same way you once brushed his. At night he would braid your hair to keep it from tangling and becoming a mess in your way as you slept.
When you expressed your disliking for certain food that caused you to bloat and your stomach to ache, he would have Uraume assure he wouldn’t prepare it again. Finding a substitute that would be gentle on your stomach.
Of Course when winter came and you’d persist he walked on his own in the snow despite your love of the blossoms in the snow he became concerned. He held a hand to you, you gave him a sympathetic look that he would’ve taken as rejection if you hadn’t stepped down the stairs to walk beside him.
His sad eyes followed you as you talked about the blossoms, “Look at that, I suppose it’s time we retire that tree, it seems it won’t blossom again this spring.” You stopped under a tree that was bare, its bark slowly peeling away. You reached a hand up touching one of its branches, it snapped and crumbled under your hand. Your smile was melancholic in your son's eyes. M He knew the day would come when he would have to part ways with you. In his desperation one night he acted in a way even Uraume had advised him against.
He went to visit the Shaman.
—- —- —- —- —-
The night was long as you laid awake with an unsure feeling. The night was unbearable in its heat for it being the cold season. You sat up aggravated, shaking all the blankets off of you. Getting up and moving to a chair in your room you sat there fanning yourself with an embroidered Fan Ryomen had brought you one day. You were restless the entire night, unable to sleep until sunrise when you had left your room coming across Uraume who looked solem. They let you know that Ryomen had left late last night and they weren’t sure where he was going but he advised him to stay with you. That being so you decided you’d like a day to the market, Uraume accompanied you speaking idly with you as you both looked around. “Do you know where he went, Uraume?” Uraume sighed and bowed his head, “I’m not actually sure where Lord Sukuna went. I just knew, when he told me to stay, it wouldn't be for the best whatever he could be doing.”
Uraume was right, after being out all day and returning home you found your son outside in the snow. You watched as the tree’s branches that were crumbling were cut away by his technique. He turned to you holding out a branch that seemed to be blooming with life and pink magnolias. “It will bloom again, all it needs is a little help.” It was a strange sight seeing your big four armed two faced baby boy kneeling by a tree wrapping it with care where he had inserted new branches to give it life. You smiled walking closer, placing your hand on his back, “It will look beautiful Ryo, but it won’t be the same as before.” Rubbing circles on his back he hummed, tying off the last bit of fabric, “Its roots will always be the same no matter how much time passes it knows where it comes from. But, with time everything you see will change from what it once was to something new and different from what it once was.”
His stare hardened on the tree, “You’re not talking about the tree…” his voice had a melancholic waver to it. Your hand rested on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “If I could help you… would you let me…?” You watched the side of his face, his eyes flickering to be downcast. You stood there in silence, he knew the answer. When he threw away his humanity to become something more, you had become distraught over him. Fretting and worrying to the point that he almost regrets his decision. But now, he didn’t regret throwing away his humanity because of your worry. He regrets it knowing now you’ll leave him alone one day, with no home, and no love. He was your boy, and you loved him, but you knew the time would come when he would be alone in this world to make his own way entirely.
That night when you sat outside on that cold stone bench under the scarce blossoms, you looked up at the stars. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall as you smiled. The cold air biting at your skin made your complexion soft. Uraume was wary of serving you the tea Sukuna had given to be prepared. Yet there stood Uraume placing the cup in front of you with a solemn look. “Is something wrong, Uraume?” Uraume hummed, setting down a few extra things, “I’m not sure entirely.” You motioned for them to sit, they sat. Uraume brought a cup for themself. They wanted to know what was so special about it.
—- —- —- —- —-
Time had passed, you noticed the improvements in your being even as your age progressed. It had you questioning why or more specifically what Sukuna had done. Making your way to the small ball age at the base of the mountain was a mistake. It was then you heard the words being said about your son. Words you knew to be true, you kept to your business looking to see if you could catch sight of him anywhere. Nowhere. You continued to tend to your own business until you ran into someone familiar, Uraume’s mother. She wasn’t the woman you knew before, instead she was the hallowed remains of who she once was. She was hanging by a post, more dead than alive. The sign stated, “All those proven to be an accomplice or in support of Ryomen Sukuna will be tied to the post and left for death to consume them.” The fear had your heart racing as you looked on, her eyes were dead and grey, her head moved slightly in its position, as if she were nodding off between death and life.
“It’s a shame there are humans supporting the curse that’s written to plague and end humanity.” You looked at the man beside you, he was staring at the scene. “The rumour is his mother is still alive and she’s just as ugly a character as he is.”
You wanted to say something but it felt like the words wouldn’t leave you. You sighed looking down causing the man to look at you in interest with a smile.
—- —- —- —- —-
Sukuna was entering the town, shaman and Uraume in tow. He had been communicating with the Shaman about certain things and how to accomplish certain actions.
It was odd when they arrived and the city was quiet. Curiosity had piqued both the Shaman and Sukuna’s interest. In silence they ventured further, until they heard the commotion. “KILL HER SHE DESERVES TO DIE!” An older woman’s voice. “HANG HER LIKE THE LAST WOMAN SHE DESERVES TO SUFFER THE WAY WE HAVE.” “YOU'LL BURN IN HELL FOR THE HELL YOU'VE BROUGHT ON THIS EARTH.” The trio stopped seeing who it was.
You were strung up on a post, arms tied behind you around that post. Your feet kicking to hold your weight up, the blood that was pouring out of your mouth matching the red, purple and dark marks littered on your skin where your robes had been torn, your laugh was as sick as the malicious smile on your face, “All of you,” your back arched as you forced yourself to breathe, “Remember this face,” in arching your back your head tilted to the side as you sputtered out blood, “Because I’ll curse every single one of you for generations and I’ll make you all suffer.” Your feet slipping against the post your weight dropped pulling at the flesh of your shoulders. You were bound to die soon, you wouldn’t suffer like Uraume’s mother who laid on the floor finally dead after they cut her down.
Your head dropped, feeling a stab between your shoulders.
Sukuna could see the brief flicker of sadness in your eyes, you didn't lift your head but he could see the tears slowly started to run. Sukuna could kill them all… he could.. kill them.. all
He was there, in front of you covered in blood. It happened so fast, he was looking up at you, you smiled at him, your eyes softened but the tears didn’t stop. “Ryomen.” Your voice was cheerful despite being near death, infront you wasn’t the 2 faced 4 armed man the world knew as a monster.
In Front of you was your 12 yo boy who was crying reaching up to you for you to hold him and wipe away his tears after some adventure of his went wrong.
Only this time you couldn’t wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes, “…mama…” His voice was just as vulnerable and small as the day he first called out for you. His arms coming up to hold you as he freed you, “You can’t leave me.” You stood there on weak legs, you were tired. He was knelt in front of you, guiding his head to your chest he laid there, his tears falling silently, you placed one of your hands on his head, the other gently rubbing his back, “My little boy is all grown up,” you kissed the top of his head hugging him the best you could, “Remember what I told you, the things you see will change, but your roots will always be the same.” He was trembling in your hold, “aw, my little Ryo.” Resting your head on his as you fell against him to your own knees, “I love you my sweet boy, but it’s time for you to go on your own now.” Your tears hadn’t stopped falling, Ryomen’s tears began to mimic your own. “You can’t leave me…” His voice was soft but it wouldn’t stall your death.
There you fell against him, lifeless eyes with a melancholic smile. It was then that Uraume and Kenjaku approached. Uraume carefully pulled your body from his hands, they would give you a proper burial. Sukuna stood, Kenjaku was amused by the entire situation, “You should alert your father. I'm sure he deserves to know his wife has passed. But now that it’s settled and there’s nothing left to detain you, I’m sure you’ll agree to my plan now won’t you?”
—- —- —- —- —-
500 years had passed, Sukuna everyday had grown to live for himself more and more. Every spring he’d see that tree blossom, and think of your burial under it. You never told him you’d be with him forever, but he begged you to stay and you never did.
He was living in his tyranny, he was unstoppable. Today has been 513 years since you passed, your death was no longer as tragic as it was five centuries ago, but on occasion his thoughts would linger on the memories of laying his head on your lap. When he had fought you over not wanting to shower so you dunked him like a cat and he screamed like you were murdering him. He remembered the night his body had changed, and you held him tight, all that night not once had he seen his father. He remembers when you would make him mad and you’d ask him for a kiss he’d deny it with an angry pout only to be pulled into your hug for you to kiss him all over. He remembered laughing in your hold, how ok his birthdays you’d do anything to make sure he was happy. From taking him to that place that would feed him all he could eat, to letting him choose the colours of his own Yukata. He remembers when you would pick him up throwing him into the air and he’d smile feeling like he would always be this happy. Even when his blood thirst first began he remembered how you would scold him for coming home bruised or wounded, yelling at him and trying to teach him reverse curse technique. He remembers the day you taught him about binding vows, and how he should never trust anyone to make a vow unless he knows the true intentions of that person. You taught him to look for the fine details and loopholes in every technique recorded you could find. He remembered holding your hand, when he was small, and it felt like you would always be there to guide him, to hold his hand and smile at him with those soft eyes, calling him name back home when he would stray too far.
His melancholic attitude was inevitable, and sadly it was the day his vulnerability would be taken advantage of. He was ambushed by sorcerers, and it was as if it triggered something. An Onryo stood behind him, double his size, her eyes were wrapped in bandages, her hair was long and untamed, her nails was grown out into claws and her white yukata was closed tight, taking the sword form her mouth her back arched and she let out a terrifying scream, it was as if she multiple voices. “DONT TOUCH MY SON.” It was the swing of her sword that cut down half of the sorcerers standing and cutting through the earth's surface itself. Even then they held up a good battle, but his fate was sealed.
There was a brief moment in his innate domain where he came face to face with his mother. She smiled at him, “Look at my little Tyrant, all grown up.” He looked at you in disbelief before you remembered something, “SO HELP ME RYOMEN SUKUNA IF YOU LET THAT WOMAN WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND AND HOLDING ON TO YOU NAKED I WILL COME BACK AND TAKE YOU OUT OF THIS WORLD MYSELF HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT I SHOULD GIVE YOU A GOOD ONE RIGHT NOW FOR NOT PUSHING HER OFF OF YOU QU-“ You were cut off as he hugged you. He was no longer in his true form, rather changed to be smaller with two arms and a normal face. You sighed with a smile, placing a hand on his head, never failing to rub his back in comfort, “I missed you too you big man child.” He scoffed but didn’t let go, “You didn’t leave me.” You laughed, “It’s funny now, but how could I when you basically cursed me with your crying and don’t leave me mama.” You mocked him and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go.
“Well it might be a while before I see you again, so let me lend to you my special abilities. A way to create an open domain, a move known as the world slash, and my cursed energy. I’ll be here when you need me.” You kissed the top of his head one final time and he nodded. It was quiet when he mumbled the words “I love you mama…” you smiled at him and you could feel his conscious fading with the colours of this world, “I love you too my little Ryo.”
-
Tags: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @domainofmarie
#sukunas wife#sukunas wife speaks#sukuna moves his mom in an innocent way not in a kinky way#🤍mail time#daddy sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#jjk anime#sukuna thirst#sukuna x mom reader#mom reader x sukuna#soft sukuna#reader x son sukuna#jjk sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jjk ryomen sukuna#jjk ryomen#Sukuna just needs some love#sukunation#sukunas wife’s ask#sukuna nation#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#reader x sukuna#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk#jjk asks#MY BABY JUST NEEDS LOVE 😭😭🤍🤍🤍
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posting another seduce me redesign since the last one I did was *checks notes* holy shit 2 years ago.
anyway design notes and headcanons under the cut
I had planned to also redo their demon forms since my headcanons have changed since then but I didn't feel like it and with artfight coming up I just don't have time.
My first and main goal when redesigning them was giving them a more diverse range of faces and skintones. I headcanon that they basically got all of their looks exclusively from their mothers, so they could look wildly different while still being brothers. Also because these are their human forms I would imagine most of the traits they inherited from their father wouldn't pass over anyways. Scars were another big thing I wanted to add, and yes, most of them are from you know who (their father). James and Damien's face and neck scars, and Sam's arm scars are all from their father, Erik has no visible scars, Matthew has scars from training on his hands, and Sam's cheek scar is from an arrow. There are also plenty of more scars I have headcanoned that are not visible. (and yes Damien's eye is partially blind) Clothes wise I wanted to dress them more realistically then they were, at least in the first game. James ended up leaning more casually but basically stayed the same. Erik I wanted to keep in a suit but instead of a button up and vest I went for just a turtleneck and suit jacket since I felt that leaned more casual while still keeping him more formal then his brothers. Also to lean more into realism I did have to get rid of his purple eyes and red hair. (sorry Erik fans) Sam got a whole grudge make over, I felt like the games were just too scared to make him lean into that style so I just did that little extra push he needed. Matthew and Damien probably got the biggest style change out of the 5. With Matthew I wanted to lean streetwear with lots of layers and baggy clothes. With Damien I wanted them to be the light academia to James more dark academia. (Off topic: I have a lot of thoughts about James and Damien's relationship and how despite their treatment from their father being very different that they both went through similar trauma and I headcanon that they're the closest of the brothers because of it.)
Finally since I changed them so much I wanted to add a motif to connect them all together again and just like with the demon redesigns, the golden rose makes a return. I don't actually know if the golden rose has any relation to them in canon but I dont care. James is on the side of his glasses, Erik's is a pin on his suit, Sam's is a charm on his bracelet, Matthew's is an earring and Damien's is a clip in their hair.
I have so many headcanons and opinions of these guys and this is barely a snippet of my thoughts about them. hopefully one day I'll finally get off my ass and make actual art and stories.
#my art#seduce me the otome#james seduce me#erik seduce me#sam seduce me#matthew seduce me#damien seduce me#goodbye seduce me fandom see you again in 2 years *collapses and bleeds out*
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creating stories
Jimmy: So, everyone, what does a story NEED?
Grian: A character! Martyn: A setting! Pearl, a gleam in their eyes, in a near-whisperL REVENGE.
DOUBLE POST TODAY Because i'm posting a redo of an old chapter as well. These may become a common thing :>
Redo of the first chapter! Second new incorrect quote will be out later!
This is set in their highschool years, all siblings.
438 words
~~~
Jimmy’s whole class had been told by their English teacher that he had to go home and explain what made a good story to his family. For homework. And whilst most kids weren’t going to do it, Jimmy was DEFINITELY going to do it. What if the teacher asked his siblings? And they would totally rat him out.
Anyway, Jimmy had forced all 3 of his siblings to sit in the front room and listen to him. Grian, 16, had zoned out ages ago and was just tapping his knuckles on the table. Martyn, 19, did not want to be there as he wasn’t even in school anymore, but Jimmy had threatened to cry. So. Pearl, 13, was apparently loving it.
Jimmy, 12, had been ranting about what a story needed for the past hour. And finally decided to test if his siblings had been listening. “So, can any of you tell me what a good story NEEDS?”He hummed, waving his hands around dramatically. After no one responded, he picked on the first one he saw, which unfortunately was- “Grian, you go first!”
Grian, realising he had been called upon, shot his head up, after a couple of seconds and processing the question he responded, “Ah. Characters?”
“Yes, Very good! Martyn?”
Martyn, as quick as always, had been listening the whole time, “A setting.”
Jimmy smiled, happy that at least one of his siblings was listening to him. “Ah, see it’s not that hard guys! Now, pearl-” Jimmy’s sentence stopped as he stared at the girl. “Pearl.?”
The young girl was smiling like she was on a sugar high, crouched over her paper as she doodled down what seemed to be a character plan, completely unaware of what was happening around her. “Peeaarrlll! Were you listening to me?” Jimmy complained, yelling at her.
She looked up at the yell, “Of course I was listening!”After a couple seconds, after realising they were probably waiting for her to respond to Jimmy’s earlier question. Which she had not heard, she added. “What was the question again?”
Jimmy sighed sadly, “What does a good story need?” The girl responded immediately with no hesitation, “Oh, obviously every good story needs some REVENGE!”She giggled madly to herself. Oh yea, they definitely needed to get their sister checked out for.. Something. No way she was completely sane in that head of hers.
After a few minutes of silence Martyn stood up, “-Right, Well I think that’s enough for one day. Jimmy, we will tell your teacher you did the homework.”He patted the boy on the head as he left the room.
#grian#hermitcraft#sleepy0s#pearlescentmoon#evo smp#martyn inthelittlewood#jimmy solidarity#scarlet pearl#skyblings
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Bathtub
Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Rated: M - 18+
Warnings: naked mc, making up after a fight, post Hogwarts, auror Sebastian, curse breaker mc, comfort, fluff, female body worship
After a horrible fight about MC risking her life at her job Sebastian makes it up to her with a little bit of pampering.
I apparate outside of the small home I share with my husband in the small Hamlet of Feldcroft.
The light was on, so I knew he was awake. Fuck, he’d be waiting up for me after our knock down drag out fight this morning. All that work staying late at the office to avoid him for nothing.
Since the Ranrok fell when I had been in school, the hamlet finally came back to life, new families moved in bringing children, new businesses and a lively hood that Sebastian said he hadn’t seen since he was a child. When the two of us graduated and got engaged it only made sense to move back to the small town.
It had been over six years of married bliss. Sebastian fixed up the house and expanded it, adding rooms for Anne or Ominis to visit should they want to. He even put up with me when I took absolutely forever redoing the kitchen, spending hours letting me change the cabinet color.
The married bliss has been interrupted this morning, after Sebastian brought up his distaste for my job for the millionth time. I was a curse breaker, he was an auror. They were both exciting, but sometimes dangerous jobs but he was keen to cut yours down any chance he took. I loved my job, loved helping people and he just seemed to think it was a fun little hobby.
It all came to a head this morning when he simply told me the work you did wasn’t WORTH it. I’d come home late again, but he’d come home late often for work.
It would have hurt less if he had slapped me. After he said that I had gotten up from bed, threw on the first thing I could find and spit out that I was going to your worthless job, and he shouldn’t wait up for you that night.
That was about 19 hours ago, and now here I am, standing outside your home, too nervous to apparate directly into your living room.
The nurse who worked at my office had done a fine time patching me up after the mission had gone somewhat sideways, but there I was again - coming home banged up. It was just going to give Sebastian fuel for his stupid argument.
Before I could gather your nerve the front door to the cottage opened, your husband backlit.
He was still wearing the clothes from his office, but his cloak was gone. His shirt sleeves rolled up to rest right above his elbows.
“Come here, love.” He says and gestures for me to come to the house. I sigh and give in, pushing my anxiety aside as I limp into my home.
When I reach Sebastian I’m ready for the lecture to begin, but he simply pushes my hair behind my ear, gently cups my cheek and gives me the softest kiss I’ve ever had. He pulls back, not before giving me a few extra pecks.
Sebastian takes my limp hand and leads me to the bathroom connected to our bathroom. The tub at the back of the room was steaming, a layer of bubbles peaking out over the edge of the porcelain.
Two candle sticks sat on either side of the tub, basking the dark space in a warm glow. Fresh cut flowers from the garden sat in a beautiful vase on the stool next to the white clawfoot tub.
Sebastian looks proud of himself as you take the room in, “Seb.” You whisper. “This is... beyond.”
He squeezes my hand and drags me toward the center of the room. “I have to apologize.” He sighs, his hands reaching for the lapel of my coat, helping me slide it off my shoulders. Neither one of us makes a move to catch it s it falls to the ground.
“It wasn’t fair of me.” He continues. “To not take your job as seriously as I take mine.” He sighs, lifting my chin up so our eyes meet. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together, my heart races as soon as he looks at me like that. Like I’m the only thing worth being soft for.
I sigh and he starts slowly, carefully undoing the buttons on the front of my button up shirt. “To me, my job is worth risking my life for. That’s easy.” He sighs, sliding my shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to join my coat on the ground.
“But when you risk your life.” He sighs. “For as noble as a reason can be- It’s impossible that your life is worth risking for anything. Your life is the most important thing in my world.”
He easily pops the button of my pants off and helps me step out of them. He makes quick work of my undergarments, and when I’m fully naked he takes my hand and helps me into the bath, still kept warm by his magic.
I sink into the water and moan, the heat helping to relax all the well worn muscles. I rest my head on the side of the tub and look up at the man I love. “Do you understand?” Sebastian asks. “It’s not that your job isnt important. It’s just that to me- you’re more important.”
I turn my head to stare up at the ceiling for a second before closing my eyes. “I think you’re going to have to get over that.”
Sebastian drags over the chair thats next to my vanity, sitting down next to the tub. “And I’m working on that, but you’ll forgive me if it takes me a while to get used to it?” His hand laces through my hair, tugging ever so slightly at the root. I hum in satisfaction and nod, “I think I can give you a bit of grace.”
“Thank you, my love.” He sighs and keeps petting my hair, kissing my forehead every now and then as I relaxed in the tub.
When I make a move to get out of the tub he stands up, holding out his hand to step out of the tub. The water slides down my naked body, droplets running in the valley between my breasts.
Sebastian slowly works his way down my body kissing each bruise, nick, scratch that littered my skin. When he was done kissing every mark he moves his mouth back to my lips, more firm with his kisses now. “I mean how could I not think you are the most important thing in the world.”
He starts at my collarbones skimming his nose down my neck. My husbands hands run over my breasts his fingers pinching my nipples lightly. “Bad boy.” I smile, bringing his face up to meet mine.
“I’m apologizing.” He explains, going back to his assault on my neck.
And so Sebastian apologized.
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#gareth weasley#hogwarts legacy fic#sebastian sallow fanfiction
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NEW OC JUST DROPPED GUYS LOOK
—
Ok, so I don't even know how the idea even came into my head in the first place, but they have been using up every single one of my braincells since it did.
—
Basic Information:
Their name is Prism and their AU was destroyed a very long time ago. It’s because of this that hardly anyone knows its name
Their pronouns are primarily they/them, but he/him is acceptable
They’re over 100 years old, but they stopped actually keeping count a while ago so the exact number can only be found through a CHECK
Abilities:
Light creation
Light manipulation (illusions/lasers/brightness)
Bone attacks
Very weak blue magic (can hardly lift a person)
Transportation magic (teleportation/portals)
Some personality traits:
Introvert (ex. Avoids people)
Anxious (ex. Overthinks things)
Empathetic (ex. Easily understands others’ emotions)
Reckless (ex. Doesn’t always think things through)
Sneaky (ex. Good at hiding true intentions)
Other:
Their magic drains quicker in darker environments and slower in brighter
Stats and magic potency isn’t affected
The canisters on their belt are pretty much just flashbombs
They’re magic boosters and healers for Prism
They’re very socially awkward and avoid contact with AU residents
They spend their time going between the AUs that Nightmare attacked and helping to restore light. As they work and as more light is produced, Positivity is created as a byproduct. Think of those happy lights you can buy: you use them in the winter when there isn’t much natural light outside and the light produced by the lamp is supposed to make your mood better. Again, Prism has no direct hand in the creation of Positivity, it’s just made as a byproduct to their work.
Their soul is kinda just a glowy orb???
—
THERE WE GO!!
The post deleted once I was almost done so I had to redo it ;-;
Also this is just basic info, there’ll probably be more later :)
If you have any questions, please ask them!!! I’d love to talk about them more! :)
#don’t repost#my art#taco talks#art#taco art#taco oc#prism#prism!sans#prism sans#NEW OC THAT ISN’T A SHIP CHILD#WHOOOOOOOOOOO#they’re so cool#please ask me about them!!!!#even ‘weird’ questions#it’ll help me shape their character more#:))))))))
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ghosting ↠ txt
now playing ↠ your needs, my needs • noah kahan
He left you with letters. Envelopes that took you five years to finally read, acknowledge. They take you back through your past, forcing you to make moves not only for yourself, but for your family, for your children… His children.
part two of six ~ masterlist
word count ↠ 1396 warnings ↠ (same for all parts) 18+. mentions of drugs, alcohol, smoking. swearing. explicit sexual content. these people have kids, there’s family talk, pregnancy talk. absent dad, messy family ties. stepsib shit, stepcest. infidelity. if any of these things bother you, please keep scrolling. if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!! a/n ↠ if you are new to this story, don't start here! please go to the masterlist! major thank you to everyone who's read this story. <3 xo posted ↠ 6/9/24 ~ 12:50 p.m. est
~ january 2020 ~
A melody of Christmas music played from the tv, a soft joyful sound in the background to fill the noise between the babies babbles. The holiday was just over a week ago, the movies should be retired, but your boys couldn’t get enough. They bounced on their bottoms and giggled whenever the music would start all over again.
“Think I’m going to be singing Jingle Bells for the rest of my life,” Soobin said, his warm voice comforting you just as his arms around your shoulders as he settled on the couch behind you.
Cross legged you sat on the floor, keeping a watchful eye over your twins, Chan biting on the colorful blocks sprawled everywhere while Sunoo crawled around on the carpet exploring his favorite space in the house.
They were a year and almost three months old, having celebrated their birthdays back in October right here in their home. Your entire family showed up, Joy and Jin popping in an hour earlier than expected with piles of wrapped boxes in their arms for your boys to open later. Later finding out they were boxes of clothes and shoes, specially ordered from a designer Joy was currently hyper fixated on, along with a check in the card for an amount of money you and Soobin positively could not accept, and a promise to redo the boys bedrooms as they grew older.
The clothes were nice, as were the shoes. You’re sure Sana accepted these kinds of gifts when her baby’s were turning a year old, but your boys simply wouldn’t last. They’d get all but one use out of each outfit with how careful one needed to be with the fabrics. You were raising twin boys, twin boys that were just learning to stand and still needed assistance with eating. Blow outs were still a common occurrence, both you and Soobin were tossing out multiple onesies weekly.
Both Chan and Sunoo hated shoes. Hated them. Once they were slipped on, they were kicked off. Soobin began keeping track of when the boys did it, when they were frustrated by sensory things, even though they were only a year old. Both of them, to a certain degree, were already showing signs of sensory distress.
Important things to pay attention to, Soobin had told you one night after a day of fighting with the little ones to put any kinds of clothes on.
He reminded you that they were still babies on top of everything else that flooded your brain, leaving you in equal distress. Somehow his words relieved you for the time being.
About a week ago, Christmas Day, your mother and step father insisted on the stacks of presents you and Soobin’s disapproving eyes fell upon. Many of the gifts weren’t even for your twins, but for the two of you, and they were unseriously backhanded.
A brand new toaster the two of you couldn’t even begin to afford, to replace that old thing you’ve had since college, Soobin! A blender, an ice maker, an air fryer, a whole new set of silverware… All things you and your husband didn’t want. Things you didn’t need.
Things you accepted with grace, and gratitude. Though you joked a few times about selling them online to add to the boys bank accounts. As much as you appreciated the gifts, helping with the boys' futures was ideal, and something you’ve mentioned. Many times. Soobins mother was the only one to listen, and she could barely afford to do so herself.
Taehyun and Sana didn’t come around for Christmas, they spent it down at their home in Avida. Sana’s parents and apparently many members of her family spent it there with the family of four, or so as Joy informed you while the two of you each cradled a twin as your husbands cooked dinner. It didn’t surprise you to learn her family stayed there, their house could fit a plethora of couples within it, the thing was giant, nearly bigger than the one you were raised in.
You hadn’t seen Taehyun since the twins' birthday party, only him and his son, Minho, who was five years old making an appearance for a couple of hours before Sana called him home. They mostly stuck to themselves, Minho exploring around the twins' toys for a bit, or snuggling on his grandfather's lap.
Few words were exchanged between you and your step-brother, who was surprisingly sober.
Hopefully for the sake of his son, Soobin had mumbled, having exchanged no words with the man dressed in black. Those two had it out for one another, whether your intuition over Taehyun’s aversion to Soobin was true or not.
Taehyun watched the boys crawl around, watched them interact with Soobin’s family, and kept his eye on them all while hugging the walls, like he was collecting recon. From time to time he’d send messages on his phone, and you wondered if it was to his wife, or to one guest invited not in attendance.
A boy you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.
Behind you, Soobin pulled you closer between his legs, either one settling by your sides. You slotted in perfectly between his knees and allowed your head to lull backward onto him. Looking up at him from where you sat on the floor, you gave him the smallest of smiles, one he returned. Leaning over you, he pressed an upside down kiss to your lips, staying there for a few seconds before he pulled away and pressed one to your forehead.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against your skin. A slight pain speared through your heart, one that made an appearance on your brows. Soobin clicked his tongue and kissed you in the same spot, willing the discomfort away. “None of that. Look at our boys.”
Our boys.
Lifting your head, Soobin wrapped his arms around your chest and rested his chin over your hair. You both let out a laugh at once as the twins suddenly became aware of one another occupying the same space. Sunoo had crawled in front of Chan, the two sitting on their bottoms smiling at each other. They babbled incoherently at the same time, making the other laugh. Then, Sunoo lifted a hand and attempted to grab onto Chan’s foot, making his brother squeal and kick his legs like crazy. The oldest of the two watched his twin make a scene, then copied him.
“They’re best friends,” Soobin said quietly to not distract the boys. “Two happy little best friends, how lucky are they?”
“So lucky,” you whispered, holding onto his wrists with a grip that had potential to leave a mark behind. The little ones wouldn’t be here smiling at one another if it weren’t for the man wrapped around you.
The pain within was too much to bear. The dizzying nausea, the crippling, stay in bed type of sadness that infected your limbs every single day. The heartbreak that came in waves, typically crashing whenever Soobin held one of the boys, or both, rocking them to sleep, or soothing their cries. An emptiness, a disconnect that kept you so far away from accepting his love no matter how hard you tried, making you wonder if the guilt was ever going to leave, or, if you’d be forced to live your life stuck this way, in a push and pull of loss, shame, and gut wrenching heartbreak.
10/7/2020
…You’re getting so big, you’re walking already, that means you guys are smart. That means you guys are taking after your mom because no way in hell will you be getting any smarts from me. Part of me feels guilty writing this all down on paper instead of saying it to you, when I could be saying it to you, but I know one day you’ll understand why. I have no clue what comes of these letters, these pieces of me to you, so I have no idea when you’ll ever read this, so I’ll spare you your dads complaints. It makes me so happy to see your mom smile. Last time I saw her she was smiling, she was happy. You make her happy. Soobin makes her happy. You’re living a beautiful life, and that makes me happy. You’re safe, taken care of. You deserve that. Don’t forget to love her…
☼ AO3 | wattpad | support | share with me ☼
thank you so much for reading. <3
#txt fanfic#tomorrow x together smut#tomorrow x together angst#txt angst#txt smut#txt x reader#txt x you#txt x y/n#soobin x you#soobin x reader#soobin x y/n#soobin fic#soobin angst#soobin fluff#nmwid#cruel summer
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So I came to the realization today that I am not going to get anymore work on this trunk done this year. I still need to finish stripping the paper inside and redoing that, but it's just. Not happening until spring. With that realization, I decided it's time to finally bring it back inside, put all the junk on my floor that used to be in it back in it, and guys
It looks good.
This is going to be a summary post of the project, so let's go back and remember what I started with. Back in, like, 2015 or something, I bought this dome-top steamer trunk at a missionary shop for $65
Yeah. Rough. But underneath that paint it was sturdy, and the only thing missing was the lock and the right-side hasp. While I lived overseas this sat in my parents' house, and when I got back I kept meaning to do something while storing all of my yarn and cat food in it. When I finally got my own space (almost a year ago now!) with my own garage, I finally decided: it was time.
Heads up, this is a long post under the cut.
Did a lot of research online, grew to hate how generative AI has even permeated niche topics like how to refinish a vintage steamer trunk, WHY is there generative AI for that, PLEASE stop, went to Lowe's and bought some supplies (I used Citristrip for the paint stripping, it worked VERY easily), and started stripping that hideous brown* away.
Almost instantly I could tell how good it could be. The tin looked amazing, and for most of the stripping process I wondered why on earth someone would cover it with any color. It took multiple layers of stripping, and I got better at it over time.
I did also start to see some oxidation issues with the tin that made the purpose behind the paint job a little more understandable.
One side was particularly bad, but I will never forgive the decision to paint the entire thing one single color.
At first, the flat metal seemed okay, but the longer I worked on stripping, the longer it was exposed to air, the rustier it started to get. I had already planned on coating it, and I ended up getting some Rust-Oleum Rust Reformer spray paint. Instead of removing the rust, it bonds to the oxide and stops the process from continuing. It also happens to leave it a nice matte black that didn't need additional painting. I taped everything off, then sprayed.
Then it was time for the tin. I looked for ideas, and the best one I found was Rub'n'Buff. It's not so much a paint as a pigmented wax, with the idea that you can buff it to a higher shine. As I was stripping paint, I found a spot under one of the slats that the painter missed, and the original tin had been painted a gold color, so I used that to decide on color. I decided on Grecian gold, though I used the antique gold as a kind of base to make sure the Grecian stretched far enough.
I originally started applying it with some craft foam brushes, but they didn't really want to work for me, so I ended up buying a pack of makeup sponges, the little disposable wedge ones, and the finer texture worked much better. I had to trim them down pretty frequently, because the wax would build up and stop applying as nicely, but there were more than enough in the pack to finish the job.
The coverage is amazing for this stuff. This side was the worst of them, and one layer of the stuff was almost perfect. The Grecian gold was almost a bit runnier, though, and ended up needing a second layer to cover some patches that were almost too thin, thus the other underneath.
This tin is so pretty though. I still kind of regret that it needed it; the places that weren't oxidized were so bright in a way that the Rub'n'Buff had no hope of emulating. There are some places you can still buy the embossed tin for rehabing trunks like this, but I haven't found one with a pattern quite like this, and this one is so much nicer than the ones I've seen. I'm very glad that it was all intact except for where the lock goes.
After the tin came the slats. I knew from sites like Brettun's Village that I wanted to use tung oil, so I had bought what I thought was tung oil. Turns out Minwax gets to call their tung oil finish that even though there's. No... tung oil. in it. ? So uh, if you want actual tung oil, do NOT listen to Minwax, they're lying, I don't understand why it's allowed. It still looks nice enough, but quite annoying.
Speaking of Brettun's Village, they not only do their own restorations AND provide a guide, they have a very extensive supply of recently furbished and original parts. They happened to have a nearly identical hasp to the one that was missing (so nearly identical I only noticed after my dad pointed it out) and an old lock also similar to my original, made in the late 1800s/early 1900s.
The next step was to tackle the inside. Instead of just adding more paper on top (like the last people did, so now there are two layers, one of which hides some original stickers ;3;), I decided to try to scrape that out, and I've found some structural issues that the metal and slats outside have held together and kept hidden.
The top split in the wood is an actual crack on the front that needs fixing. The middle split is just the gap between the planks. The bottom is also a crack, but not as extensive as the top one.
So the final steps, when I get the motivation again come spring, is to finish getting as much of the paper off as I can. Then my dad is going to help me use some bondo to hold the cracks, and I'll find a removable wallpaper I like. Then I can sort out what I'm going to do with the lock. That top split runs right through where the lock should go - you can see some of the wood filler we already put in from where the original was ripped out - so we can't try to put anything there or it'll crack worse.
But I brought it in today!
It looks so good, I glance over and get to feel so satisfied; I did that.
*I don't like to call any color hideous, because a lot of the time it really depends on the context, and it's an okay brown. But for THIS? It was probably the worst brown they could have picked. Mixed with the orange of the paint stripper it looked like I was scraping diarrhea.
#long post#vintage trunk#steamer trunk#antiques#antique restoration#antique refinishing#I tried to look up the lock again for the dates they had but they don't have the old stock ones anymore#so my timing was good#mom has wanted some quilting projects so I suggested something for under this#cause it has the original roller wheels! three of them anyway o3o;;;#but I'm afraid that the very old roller wheels will scratch the floor#i gave her the measurements and double checked idk how it ended up so skinny ;3;#but it's good enough#is there a chance that now that I've brought it inside my adhd will think “hey good enough” and never finish the rest?#yes#yes there is absolutely a significant chance#but I am beyond positive that no more work is going to get done before winter#so why leave it out in the garage over winter where it might expand and contract and force those cracks wider#I BARELY tapped the door frame on the way back in and it chipped the door frame though#like what kind of cheap materials did they use how was that even POSSIBLE#rude#oh oops I'm awake too late again tonight I gots work in the morning
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holy shit! Its done! Ive worked on this for about a month and a half now? I think? Its a somewhat redo of this post from exactly a year ago :) I hope you like it !!!
(List of symbols below the cut. Slight warning: It's a bit long)
Biana
The bird earrings and the goldish triangles in the background are supposed to represent the vacker crest and how her family name is always sort-of looming over her.
The background could be interpreted as a mirror or stained glass. a mirror because of nightfall, and stained glass because it's the kind of rich people thing the vackers would have.
The cracks in the mirror are very faintly outlined in gold. It's supposed to sort of represent how the constant pressure to be perfect and "golden" kinda fucked up her and her family, especially with regards to Alvar.
The mix of teal and purple in the mirror and the roses is supposed to symbolize the constant fight between being herself and being who her family and the rest of elven society wants her to be.
The flowers are roses because something something Biana is pretty but definitely has thorns. She can hurt you.
The butterflies are actually there for multiple reasons! Theres the obvious, being that butterflies are beautiful. But they're beautiful because their colors come from camoflauge. They look pretty to hide from predators. Also, the belding in could go with her vanisher ability.
I know it's a bit unclear, but the squigglies beside the butterflies are supposed to be snakes! Snakes are dangerous, but you don't usually notice them until it's too late. They sneak up on you. Sort-of resembling how no one would suspect Biana of being dangerous, and how being a vanisher lets her sneak up on people.
Fitz
He has matching earrings with Biana. This is sort-of to go with the whole "family comes first" thing with the Vackers. The birds are also to represent the family crest! (You can also see the crest in the squares in the corners)
His color scheme has a lot more teal than Biana's did. This is mostly because of the two, the family legacy effected him more. He was always going to be the golden child. The one true Vacker kid.
The swords on the sides are supposes to sort of symbolize his fighting. He's been almost nonstop battle training for a lot of books now, and even got an actual sword in the ending of stellarlune.
The swords are wrapped in roses. It's supposed to represent Sophie, since the Ruewen crest has a rose. She is what made him realize that the elven world was really shitty, and that there's a better world worth fighting for.
The feathers beside the swords are also supposed to represent the bird in the family crest.
The scales at the top are because of mr.snuggles mostly. Dragons have scales, so i thought it'd be fun. They could also represent a snake skin, and how throughout the series he's been growing and changing.
Below the scales are little thorns. These were supposes to symbolize all the littlethings he's said and done to hurt others, even if it wasn't intentional. His anger is a protects him, just like thorns protect a rose.
In the top right corner, there's a circle with a broken heart inside. It's supposed to be his cognate ring, and all the drama that's happened with Sophie.
The objects above his shoulders are crowns! bc vacker royalty or whatever!!
There's a broken heart behind him. The most obvious comparison for this would be his relationship with Sophie, but it could also represent his connection to Alvar or Keefe. Honestly, it could represent his entire relationship with the Lost Cities.
Keefe
The black dripping down the circle in the background is supposed to be shadows + quintessence. It could go with the scene in Legacy where his abilities are activated, or just represent how his life has been slowly getting darker and darker. Everything being overshadowed by the Neverseen.
The heart in the middle of the darkness can either be his empath abilites or how he's still trying to be a good person, despite everything that's happened.
The candles are a tie in to the Sencen crest, hand holding a candle. They could also represent how everything that's happened to him over the course of the books is slowly burning him out, and yet he's still desperately trying to help, and be a light for his friends.
The shapes surrounding the circle could be eyes, to represent the neverseen, or the petals of a flower. The flower would be to represent life. He's still alive and he's still going despite everything. His entire life was built on Gisela'a dream for the neverseen and her own plans though, hence why the petals are eyes.
The flowers on his necklace are a tie-in to the flowet bead necklace he made for his mother when he was little.
The petals are in a sort-of gradient from white to green. This is supposed to symbolize all the shit that's happened in recent years, and all the deaths and sadness that have piled up. There's still a ring of white though, to represent that throughout this he's still the same person. That he's still a good person.
Only one of his eyes is showing, and it's wide open. It's supposed to look a bit like the neverseen symbol.
In his outfit, you can see little heart symbols in the pattern, because he's an empath.
In the very back, the mismatched stripes are sort-of supposed to be the chaos and confusion that sort of goes with his character. His entire life is a mystery that only Gisela knows, and it's been a mess trying to figure it out. He doesn't know who he is or really why he even exists.
His eye earring is supposed to go with the Neverseen, and his sun earring is supposed to symbolize Icarus.
Sophie
The little pattern on her outfit is supposed to look like moonlark feathers !
Her outfit is blue because like. Red is her color, canonically, but her whole thing is supposed to be going against whats expected of her and making changes, so! Blue.
I tried to make her hair like. sunrise-ish colors. Since shes sort of like? A new beginning for the Lost Cities? If that makes sense?
Her little hair part has the silhouette of hope.
The circle outline in the back is supposed to be the cognate ring.
The shapes surrounding the circle are little wolf claws, to go with her dire wolf Team Valiant symbol.
The stars inside the circle are supposed to be her three human family members, and then her star off to the side.
The three blood drops are supposed to be the three main deaths that have effected her. Kenric, Calla, and Forkle 1.
The three leaves outlining the circle are supposed to be Edaline, Grady, and Jolie. Something something theyre leaves because wanderlings and Jolie's death was all they could see before Sophie came to them.
The leaves are right next to the fire because Brant killed jolie with fire !
Fire in the bottom right corner because. Every single fucking thing that has happened to her regarding fire. (Also Fintan possibly being her dad)
There are 11 stripes in the top right corner for her 11 main friends.
The rose is supposed to be the rose in the Ruewen family crest.
The red stripes in the top left corner are supposed to sort of look like her inflicting lazers.
The feathers are swan feathers.
The white triangles in the bottom left corner are alicorn horns (hence the sparkles).
Dex
The 4 circles on his necklace are the triplets and him. The bottom one hanging down could be either Dex or Rex, I think.
His shirt is sort of funky? I wanted it to be a bit like Slurps-and-Burps, I guess. A tiny bit different from the others.
Stars on his shirt! For when he and Sophie went star-gazing for a homework assignment.
The branch in thr background is supposed to be from his wanderling.
Fire! Because of his whole thing with it bc. You know. Tortured by it and shit. Also, just in general, this series can't go five minutes without fire being mentioned. So.
The little oval above it is supposed to be a bit linke a finger print? Because he still has that mark from when he got tortured. It was also supposed to look a bit like a sand dollar, because he got kidnapped on the beach.
Swan at the top! (It doesn't look much like a swan bc I did it with no reference. :()
It has a green eye because Neverseen! And how they've caused all this death and shit in his life.
Theres a gear at the top because he's a technopath.
In the back it's a bit hard to see but. There are little lines throughout thr black spaces. They were supposed to look a bit like wires. Technopath.
The circle inside the gear is supposed to be his Team Valiant gem, in his circlet.
Three water drops for the triplets.
Theres water at the bottom, partly because of the beach where he got snatched, but also partly because of like. His somewhat melting relationship with his mom after the Black Swan reveal? Since shes a Froster.
Behind the drops there's five stripes, to represent his whole family.
Idk theres a lot of family symbolism in this because its like? Such an important part of his character? Their reputation is what makes up so much of his motivations, especially in the earlier books.
Marella
Her hair was supposed to look a bit like fire.
Fire shapes on her outfit.
She has a little heart pin on her outfit because of her earlier ambitions to be an empath.
Eyes on her necklace for the neverseen. The orange triangles are for fire and thr blue ovals are for water. Because of her training practice with Linh.
The 3 dots on either side of her outfit are for the other three horsegirls of the apocolypse. Linh, Maruca, and Stina.
The wrinkles on her sleeves were also supposed to look a bit like fire? Not sure how well that worked out though.
There are 5 stars on her earrings to represent the five pyrokinetics deaths that caused the ban on her ability. They're stars bc her name means star of the sea.
The pink/yellow/blue stipe on the left is supposed to represent the torch she had in the ending of stellarlune, bc those are the colors is turned.
Exillium beads above the stripes to represent her relationship with Linh and how she was angry that Sophie didn't ask her to come with her in Neverseen.
The waves above the beads are supposed to tie into her "star of the sea" name.
Above that is Fintan's ear :). The moon earring hanging down is supposed to be like, controlling the waves? And they're supposed to represent Marella's name so it's like. Fintan manipulating her during their training sessions.
The sun at the very top because like. fire. sun.
Little wind at the top right corner for her dad, Durand, whose a guster.
The shape on the right is the balcony that her mom fell off.
The vines growing up it are supposed to sort of represent death? Her mother didn't die, but I'd assume they probably mourned her a bit like they did with Alden. She's not totally gone but she'll never be the same as she once was.
Theres a salamander climbing up the balcony because of the myth that they're immune to fire, and how pyrokinetics are supposedly immune to fire but can still be effected by everblaze. If that makes sense?
There are little yellow dots scattered throughout the background that are supposed to be like. Little sparks from fire.
Linh
She has a moon earring to sort of represent control over waves and shit.
Same thing goes for the moon above her head!
Her registry pendant is like? Simpler? Compared to the others, since she was banished and all that.
Dots on her outfit are exillium beads if it wasnt clear. :)
The symbol on her jacket (?) are rainclouds.
The lines on her sleeves are supposed to look like rivers.
Purple handprint in the background because of her exillium placing.
The stairs behind it are supposed to be the stairs at Tiergan's house. There are 6, one for each person who lived there at some point.
The little red/blue drops and sea are like. The blood slowly turning into water/ her taking control over her ability.
It could also be all the ogres she probably killed when she flooded Ravagog.
The 6 stars beside the moon are to represent all the Endal-Alenfars.
The darker star is Rayni.
The plants at the top are supposed to sort of represent the gnomes they lived with. They make a dome shape, to sort of symbolize the dome surrounding Atlantis.
The flowers at the ends of the vines(?) are supposed to represent her and Tam.
The cattails at the very top are because they grow near water and Linh had to grow up near the water, even though she couldn't control it yet because of her parents.
The dragonfly was Diras idea :)
The purple and red in the background is sort of like. Who she was at exillium and in general (sweet, helpful, whatever, etc.) vs like. That darker part of her that flooded Ravagog.
Tam
He has a sun earring to sort of parallel Linh's moon. The sun has like. A bit to do with shadows if I remember 4th grade science well enough.
Exillium beads on his outfit :)
He's wearing the Endal crest because like. I think they're more important than his actual family will ever be. (It also annoys me a tiny bit that him and Linh are wearing the Song crest in almost all of their official art.)
He and Linh have the same like. Set of earrings. One gold and one silver.
Like Linh, his registry pendant is also simpler compared to the others.
The blue/black color scheme on his outfit is supposed to sort of go with him and Linh's ability colors.
Two buttons on his outfit for him and Linh.
Behind him is a shadow, to go with his ability. There are also like. Smaller shadows throughout.
Above the shadow's head is a crown. It's supposed to be the one from Legacy, when Tam had to blast Keefe.
Above him are like. 2 stars and 4 little dots. The stars are him and Linh, and the rest are the other Endal-Alenfars.
The line in the middle is supposed to represent his ambi placing in Exillium.
The top right corner is Eternalia/ the Tribunal Hall, where Linh got banished.
The top left is Exillium.
The sky like? Gets a bits brighter as it transitions from the Tribunal to Exillium to sort of represent how they were more free? I guess? Even if it wasn't ideal, they were away from their parents and they had power over their lives at least a bit.
The bottom right is the river that they lived beside in book 4 that Linh parted for them.
Beside the river are little pebbles in sets of twos for Tam and Linh.
In the bottom left is the staircase to Tiergans house.
Around the line in the middle are little flowers. From left to right they represent: Wylie, Rayni, Tiergan, Prentice, and Linh.
and that is the end of the list 👍 thank god
Tag list:
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#Maybe ill do the other 4 sometime later :)#But i was actively dying and couldnt get this done on time if i did them.#So we'll wait and see! If I do them it will probably be much later#Seriously hope you guys like this! My blood sweat and tears went into it#i dont think ive ever done something this big before.#Happy pride btw!! :D#kotlc fanart#Sophie foster#Keefe sencen#Fitz vacker#Biana vacker#Tam song#Linh song#Marella Redek#Dex dizznee#Kotlc
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"Strength (Bell Donner Gives Her Word)"
I posted this short story on LJ back in 2007, and I said I'd repost it here for Halloween. I did an audio reading 15 (!) years ago that I'd like to redo in better quality in the near future; I'm also curious to see what it would sound like now that I'm the age I imagined the main character to be. This version is lightly revised, but the story is mostly the same.
That fall a number of people in Chesterville were mauled to death by some kind of wild dog or coyote—the kind that apparently wasn’t too afraid to go right up to people as they took out their trash at night, or let their own tame, domestic dog out not too long after dawn. But it was a small town out in the sticks, verging on farm territory: quiet. Not like a wild animal was marauding up and down Times Square or anything. Not like it was in plain view. So people just started being more careful—not venturing out alone until midday, or not venturing out at all without a loaded shotgun—and things were all right for a while. Then, in late October, the animal came back, and this time, someone survived.
An old lady by the name of Edna Mayhew—well, yes, she lost her arm from the elbow down, but she came out of it a damn sight better than any of those who’d come before her. And she said that it was a wolf, definitely a wolf, but it had come at her on two legs, and when she had smacked it in the face with a veiny little fist, it had held her down with two arms and bitten her forearm clean off. The only thing that saved her, she declared, was her neighbor Bill “Thursday” Thurston, who had heard her screaming and come out with both barrels blazing. He claimed that the thing he saw ran away on four legs, but that it was, in fact, Goddamn Huge. This was about the time that that new photo of Bigfoot lumbering around on all fours came out, which several professors and scientists swore up and down was just a bear with mange. Eddie at the Red Brick printed out the picture and taped it up by the bar, and the next time Thursday came in for a beer, he said, yeah, the thing he chased off Miz Mayhew kinda looked like that. Maybe it was a wolf with mange. Mange was a terrible thing, after all. He’d managed to hit it with at least one shot, though, so he didn’t think it’d trouble people too much after that.
So, going into November, that was where things stood. Whatever it was, it had mange, and it had probably gone off and died quiet somewhere. Bell Donner wasn’t terribly worried about it when she went outside one morning to get more wood for her kiln. She threw artisan pottery out on a little farm a few miles to the west of Chesterville anyway; every week or so, she’d go into town for groceries, mail out her online orders, maybe stop at the Brick for a burger and a drink, and hear what was to be heard. She had little to tell about herself, but folks like to tell their stories, and she knew Miz Mayhew from the post office. She learned that people were keeping their guns out, their doors locked, and their pets inside; she heard the recitation of tales. But whatever the thing that Bill Thurston shot had been, it and its mange were not likely to bother Bell. Or so she thought, until that morning when she was piling kindling into the crook of her arm, looked up, and saw it standing at the edge of the yard.
It didn’t have a human face, but it was standing—on two long, lanky legs that curved back into hocks like a dog’s. One—arm?—was held close to its belly. Probably protecting wherever Thursday shot it, thought Bell, her brains feeling thick and logy. That was the best reaction she could dredge up: Yeah, six-foot man-shaped wolf thing hunched over in my yard, probably not feeling too good right now. It didn’t have a human face, but it did have a very human expression—desperate, she thought, and cranky. Maybe resentful, even. And hungry.
Bell put down her armful of kindling and picked the axe back up.
The thing staggered forward a step or two. It was still a good twenty feet away.
“Go on, now,” she said. “Get. Ain’t nothin’ here you want.”
The thing gazed at her, its eyes watching the axe; it almost seemed to—calculate? She’d seen it, after all, and it was hungry. A human murderer wouldn’t have let her live, and this wasn’t even human.
Bell hardened her voice and rode over a quaver like it was a speedbump: “Go on now. I won’t tell nobody if you just go.” It was on the tip of her tongue to offer it some food—she had a pot roast from the other night, and she was still knee-deep in leftovers—and then she thought, You dumbass, you feed it once and you’ll never get rid of it. “G’on now,” she said, her hands tight on the axe handle. “Just get. You got my word. I won’t tell nobody.”
It was still standing there, reckoning. And then it stepped back, making a tactical withdrawal into the brush at the back of the yard. She saw it drop back down on four legs and lope away awkwardly towards the thicket out behind the farm, a scrubby bit of forest that led into some of the foothills. Probably some good caves in there, she thought. The wolf-thing wasn’t the only one out there who could calculate. And when the attacks started in Chesterville again, and then moved a bit north—northeast of Bell’s farm, and then back down to Chesterville, and then southeast of her farm, and then back to town again—she knew it was being careful. It knows better than to shit where it eats, she thought to herself. Or eat where it slept, more precisely, but the saying held the same. There were some people at the sheriff’s office who probably would have given a lot to know about a thicket in the foothills west of Chesterville, particularly since Edna Mayhew was still the only survivor. But Bell Donner had given her word; she valued her word almost as much as she valued her life, and they were pretty much the same thing in this case, she decided. After all, it’s one thing to know where something lives. It’s another when something knows where you live, and a deal was a deal where Bell Donner came from.
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Portrait Of A Woman
Yes, another version of this. Deal. 😆
I'm always changing and growing, revising my life and what I'm blogging about. I joke that I'm a gossip columnist (because I do refer to other celebrities besides Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles), but it's only to share my other interests.
So what are my interests? The purpose behind this blog?
Many things. I title it Ramblings Of A Writer for a reason. I write and boy, do I ramble!
I’ll also be redoing my masterlists to make it easier for folks to find certain posts. I won’t be redoing posts—no need to do that, but perhaps reposting information being redone. Like “Version 2 with new stuff” or better organized information and having those on the masterlists instead.
Let's begin with me:
Who am I?
My online nickname: Raye
Pronouns: She/her
Astrology: (Western) Pisces, (Eastern) Metal Monkey
Country: United States
I am anti (and I make no apologies):
Anti Danneel/Anti Elta
Anti Misha
Anti AAs
Anti Destiel
Anti Hellers
Anti Cockles
Anti Abuse
My ‘custom’ tags:
#Jensen Supportive (I believe I'm the originator)
#Music Choices by lightofraye
#lightofraye on abuse
I also frequently use #Jensen Concern, though I am not the originator (like I thought I was!).
What I’m reading:
Fictional: The Dresden Files, currently Battle Ground and Peace Talks
Non-fiction: The Body Keeps The Score
Where am I at with my writing:
BA Script: Judging by the math… 1/2 of the way through. Loving it! First draft!
Pre-plotting my horror/thriller
Vikings? VIKINGS!
So many more planned. Someone knock out my muse. 😅
What am I watching?
Burn Notice (finally getting the last season!)
Daredevil (again!)
Once Upon A Time
Supernatural (forever and ever, ahem)
The Good Place
A Discovery of Witches
About this blog:
I really, honest to gods, did not start this blog to be an anti. I know my anons would disagree with me and claim I always “hated” Danneel, but that just isn’t the truth. I came to Tumblr to find a new kind of social media as I was feeling soured by Facebook, disliked how Twitter had changed, escaped Livejournal years ago, not a fan of Reddit, and the “newer” social media sites weren’t my thing. Plus I’ve kept seeing hilarious screenshots from Tumblr on Facebook and decided to check it out!
I initially started by following pages about Supernatural, Sam and Dean Winchester, the actors Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. I did not go seeking anti-Danneel posts; they more or less fell into my lap. When I started reading a few posts, something clicked in my mind, explained why I was struggling with how I felt about her. I kept analyzing her behavior for a long while, what she said, and thought maybe something was being seen by fans that wasn’t being seen by me.
The explanations made sense. I felt I could breathe again. That’s when I remembered the least recognized method of abuse: emotional and mental. That fit Danneel to a T. Especially the more I looked into what she’s said and wrote over the years and saw how Jensen behaved around her in videos and photos. Even when they were supposedly trying to push the “happy couple” narrative, it just did not look true. Especially given Jensen’s talent as an actor! If he couldn’t even fake being happy or in love with her….
So I’m an Anti-Danneel. I’m also Anti-Misha for his behavior over the years, towards Jared, towards Jensen, the lies he’s peddled and keeps peddling. (For instance, no, Castiel would not have ‘fucked’ Dean upon pulling him out of Hell. No, CW was not being homophobic.)
I am absolutely very pro-Jared and pro-Jensen. I know, I know…. “But Raye, you’ve written posts criticizing Jensen! How can you be pro-Jensen??”
My answer is a variation of this: “Because I care! I am not blind to the flaws of either men! I am wildly concerned about Jensen, about what seems—to me—as excessive drinking, ‘empty’ eyes, unhappy and stressed smiles.”
For the vast majority of the AAs, it seems I’m not pro-Jensen if I don’t see him as flawless, a god upon the perfect pedestal, the Ken doll That breaks my heart. He is flawed. He is imperfect. I see more than just the pretty mask. I want to see and know the man. He isn’t just a beautiful trophy for us to ogle.
He’s caught in a rock and a hard place and I acknowledge that hard. It’s just only the negativity is seen and not the love and support. 😕
What can I tell you about me?
I could say so much. I’m the third child of a family of four kids, and the only daughter. (So that was fun.) I’m a gamer, read comics (still read a few, such as ElfQuest), got into reading fantasy books (Dragonlance’s War of the Lance was my first!), have a massive interest in psychology, in wanting to understand the human mind. I’m fluent in two languages—English and American Sign Language.
Ah, that last one might surprise some folks. No, I am not deaf—but my parents, two of my three brothers, and everyone on my mother’s side of the family are. I half-joke that my first language is ASL, not speaking with a voice. It’s not a joke though; it’s more or less accurate.
I’m a writer. I’m working on several screenplays, have plans for novels, dabble in poetry. I’m an amateur artist—have sketched with pencil and Photoshop. I haven’t done so in a while, but I love art. I do a lot under the creative umbrella, and most of it is as an amateur—photography, wishing to learn pottery, and so forth.
I’m a mother. I’m divorced (happily so, trust me). I have born children of my body and I have children of my heart. I have suffered loss deeply profound that I wish people would talk more about so we all realize we aren’t as alone as we fear.
I’m an advocate for better, stronger laws against abuse, of the protection and services for survivors. Largely because I’m a survivor, but also because I give a damn about people. I’ve experienced it all, starting from childhood to my (thankfully) now-ex-husband. I am hoping to start a series of reels explaining the red flags of abuse, how to recognize them, how to get out if you are in an abusive situation, and what organizations exist to contact for help (if any do exist). Keep an eye out for those when I start posting them!
A link to the ever-in-progress masterlist.
First masterlist, largely anti Danneel posts. (My first true anti Danneel post, highly recommend reading it. I am reworking it.) Second masterlist, more anti Danneel. Third masterlist, assorted posts. The links will be defunct due to changing my Tumblr name. So just switch out rrahuntersblog to lightofraye and it'll work. I'm reworking those too! Bear with me! My first About Me. My second About Me Redux.
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WAR IS OVER | MICK SCHUMACHER
“the worst was over, my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the great war”
not my gif :)
summary: you’re forced to announce your retirement, but at least the great war is over and mick is here to tell you that
pairing: mick schumacher x ex figure skater!reader
notes: this my first ever post on tumblr & this piece of writing is severely rushed, like severely rushed because i had this idea in my head and so it is really bad and short. i might redo this when i have more time. also loosely based off ‘the great war’ by taylor :)
warnings: small mention of injuries, a little angst, (let me know if there’s anything i’ve missed out on), unedited work
—
cameras pointed in your direction and journalists gathered in the room with their notebooks, you took a deep breath. “i’ve called this emergency press conference to give an important announcement.”
the room had instantly become quiet, chatter dying down quickly as all eyes turned to you. there was no going back.
“throughout the years, i have managed to accomplish many things in figure skating; i have done jumps, spins and win competitions only my younger self could dream of. however, i have also put my body through many things— i have suffered from many injuries which i had chose to train and compete through…” you paused, taking a deep breath in as you felt tears well up in your eyes slowly.
cameras flashed as journalists scribbled furiously on their notepads. it was never your intention to make the announcement so soon, having the initial plan of pushing through another 2 seasons, but here you were in front of the very same crowd which you used to face after winning gold medals.
“…unfortunately, the consequences of it all has caught up to me. due to my health and injuries, i have lost almost all my ability to skate as i once did. i have caused both physical and mental damage to myself,” you took a deep sigh, reciting the script you had memorised at the top of your head after nights of crying over it. “it is against my wish to have to make this announcement so early but i have ultimately decided to retire from competitive figure skating.”
voice hoarse, the tears that flowed from your eyes were uncontrollable as choked sobs filled the room. throughout your relationship, mick had never seen you so distraught until then.
“i’m sorry,” mick spoke, finally finding the right words to say. “you shouldn’t have to retire so early on, you’re still so young…but i’m proud of you. i know it wasn’t easy but i’m glad you’re finally putting yourself first. sports isn’t everything.”
“i just…” your voice came out as a mere whisper, “i’m sad that it’s over but i’m also happy that it is. i no longer have to put myself through so much anymore but i can’t help but feel like i simply failed to perform. i could’ve tried to push on more…”
“you put yourself through too much,” mick let out a sigh, recounting the many stories you had told him and the training schedule you had before you had met him those 2 years ago. “i know it hurts to have to retire this young, but this decision is for the better.”
his heart ached for you, knowing just how much you tried to keep your career alive especially in the past year or so with the countless training hours that could easily challenge his.
“the war is over now,” mick comforted, using his thumb to wipe the tears away, “we’ll never go back to those horrible days again, never again.”
#mick schumacher#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher imagine#f1 fic#formula one fanfic#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula one x you#formula one x reader
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