#but this is my namesake right here that's my baby

[billykcplan]

Kathryn Hahn as Agatha Harkness and Joe Locke as "Teen" in the first look at "Agatha" spinoff.

#marvel #mcu #marveledit #WE ALL KNOW WHO TEEN IS GODDAMMIT #joe locke #kathryn hahn #agatha harkness #agatha coven of chaos #agatha darkhold diaries #mcuedit #idec this is all i needed to gif but maybe ill do some of the other parts #but this is my namesake right here that's my baby

[sunflower-butch]

Fun fact: my right shoulder CONSTANTLY has at least three (3) scratches because this HEATHEN MONSTER CHILD screams at me until I hold her, then proceeds to dig her claws into my skin because she kneads biscuits like they’re going out of style, but she will also throw a fit if I put her on my left shoulder.

#yes this animal #this animal right here #SHES A DEMONIC LITTLE HELLSPAWN #AND MY BEST FRIEND #but I only see her twice a month when I go to my parents house for the weekend #her name is Ophelia and she is every bit as dramatic as her namesake #stinky little brat baby #I miss her #but I have something to remember her by (accidentally scratched a scab damnit)

[corroded-hellfire]

Just a Spark - Eddie Munson x Reader

A Collaboration with my beloved kindred spirit @munson-blurbs🤍

Summary: Eddie takes his sons to watch fireworks at Lover's Lake for the Fourth of July. But when he notices you there with some friends, including some male friends, he can't help but be jealous.

Note: Thank you to my dearest @joejoequinnquinn for loving jealous!eddie as much as I do and for coming up with this lovely idea! I still find it funny that it's a Fourth of July fic and you do not live in the US, lol. I hope you all enjoy and happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans 💙

Warnings: older!eddie, dad!eddie, babysitter!reader, eddie being jealous hehe

Words: 3.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

It wasn’t often that Hawkins held activities that appealed to the whole town. The haunted houses around Halloween only appealed to the teenagers, the winter wonderlands at Christmas only mattered to young children, and the Thanksgiving Parade was something that everyone swears they got dragged along to against their will. Fourth of July in Hawkins was the one day a year that could be counted on to bring people of all ages out to Lover’s Lake for sunshine in the afternoon and fireworks at night. 

Kids would splash and swim together in the shallow area of the lake while their parents watched from picnic blankets spread out not too far away. Teens and college students would come with their friends, the college kids drinking beer out in the open while the teenagers had to hide sips behind a tree or behind a friend’s back. 

It was a tradition in the Munson household to grill up some hamburgers and bring them down to eat at the lake while they watched the fireworks. This particular year things seem to be off-track, though. Brittany had left the house early in the afternoon to run a few errands and pick up some charcoal for the grill so that Eddie could cook the hamburgers. After being gone far too long for just saying she was heading to a few stores, the phone rings and Brittany gives Eddie some sob story about how she ran into her sister who’s having a crisis and she needs to stay with her for a while. Eddie just sighed as he hung up, thinking to himself that at least Brittany wasn’t dumb enough to say it had something to do with work when banks are closed because it’s a national holiday. The only problem—because going out with his boys without his wife was certainly not a problem—he ran into now was that he didn’t have time to run out and get charcoal and make the burgers before they were going to leave for the lake. 

Improvising, Eddie swings through a Burger King drive-through on the way, making sure the three of them would still keep their tradition intact as much as possible. The boys don’t seem to mind the differences between this year and last, maybe just glad to have a chance to hang out with their dad while they did something as cool as watch fireworks. 

Eddie pulls his truck into the already-crowded parking lot and grabs the bag of fast food. As he and the boys get out, people walk by carrying coolers, picnic baskets, and a few types of inner tubes to use in the water. There are tons of people there—which Eddie expected. He takes Luke’s hand into his own and instructs Ryan to grab onto Luke’s other so they don’t lose anyone. 

“Eddie!” A familiar voice calls out and has Eddie whipping around to spot its owner. He quickly sees the Sinclairs; Lucas is waving with his left hand to get Eddie’s attention, with Tiffany on his right hip. 

Eddie nudges the boys. “Look who’s here!” Their eyes widen when they notice Uncle Lucas—who Eddie swears is his younger son’s namesake and certainly isn’t Luke Skywalker—along with Aunt Max and their baby. They practically pull Eddie across the lot to them. 

Clapping Lucas’s hand and pulling him in for a modified bro-hug so he doesn’t crash into Tiffany, Eddie offers his long-time friend a grin. “How have you guys been?” he asks as he gives Max a hug. 

“Good. Tired.” Max says with a laugh. “Tiffany slept through the night for about three days before she started teething.”

“Aww, poor thing,” Eddie coos, chuckling when Tiffany proves her mother’s point by grabbing Eddie’s finger and gnawing on it. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t last as long as it seems,” he reassures the new parents. 

“We’re just headed out,” Lucas explains, kissing his daughter’s cheek. “It’s this little lady’s bedtime, and we’ve gotta get home before the fireworks start.”

“We have no idea how she’ll react to them, and we’re not about to conduct that experiment in public,” Max chimes in, making Eddie laugh again. “But we’ll see you at Ryan’s birthday party next week!”

The Munsons and Sinclairs part with goodbyes and more hugs before Eddie and the boys head towards the lake. 

“I wanna sit near the water!” Luke insists, and Eddie winces at his high-pitched whine. 

“Think we might get a better view of the fireworks if we sit up a little higher.” It’s the truth; plus, he won’t have to worry about Luke flinging himself into the cesspool that Hawkins calls a lake. 

They find a shady spot right under a tree, and Eddie lays out three beach towels so they won’t have to sit in the dirt. He passes out the parchment-wrapped burgers and little bags of fries and sits back with a sigh. This is what he’d always wanted—family traditions with his boys. If only…

“Has anyone seen my sunscreen?”

Eddie freezes mid-bite, only remembering that he has a burger in his hand when his arm starts to ache from being in one position too long. He chews and swallows as though nothing happened, but his mind is racing. 

It can’t be, he thinks. He’s almost certain that this is all in his imagination—God knows he can’t get you out of his head—until he hears someone say your name. 

Just one look, Eddie convinces himself. A quick peek so I can see that it’s not actually her; just someone who sounds like her and has the same name…

His stomach flip-flops when he glances over and sees you in a low-cut red tank top and cutoff denim shorts. Oh, shit, it’s her. And she looks really, really good. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. He wishes he had a six-pack; a cold beer can always calm his jangled nerves. Okay, I can’t let the boys see. Once that happens, she’ll come over here and—

Eddie’s anxious thought is disrupted by the sight of one of the three guys you’re with applying sunscreen to the back of your neck. He’s got long, light brown hair—though not as long or luscious as his own, Eddie notes wryly. 

Long Hair spends far too much time massaging the lotion into your skin. Calm down, Buffalo Bill. She doesn’t need that much sun protection. 

The only other girl there plucks the lotion bottle from Long Hair’s hands, much to Eddie’s relief, and Eddie turns his attention back to his boys. “You guys ready for the fireworks?” He tries to keep the enthusiasm in his voice. “Sun’s setting, so they’ll be starting soon.”

Ryan nods, chewing on a fry. “I wonder what colors they’ll have,” he muses. 

“Well, I wonder what would happen if I sat on a firework!” Luke pipes up with a mouthful of burger. “Like, would I fly into the sky? Or would it blow up in my butt?”

Eddie laughs loudly. “My money’s on the second one, little man.”

Your laughter floats over to Eddie on the breeze blowing off of the lake. He mentally berates himself, thinking of how he should be enjoying this family tradition with his boys and not be wondering if any of those guys you’re with are your boyfriend or if you’re sleeping with any of them or if…

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” Eddie looks up at Ryan’s worried face and frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Your lip,” Ryan says, pointing at the bottom half of his father’s face. “You were chewing on it, and it started bleeding.”

“Silly me,” Eddie says with a forced chuckle. He grabs one of the napkins from the Burger King bag and dabs at his lower lip. Luke has shifted to watch a game of volleyball happening on a court that someone set up and it gives Eddie the opportunity to scoot closer between his boys, so his back is to you and your friends. Maybe now he’ll be able to focus. 

It works for a while. The three of them finish their burgers and Luke is immediately complaining that he’s still hungry. Eddie tells the five-year-old he has to wait and tries to play a game with them to distract his youngest son from his rumbling tummy before the fireworks start. 

“Simon says put your hands on your head. Simon says give your brother a high five,” Eddie instructs as the boys eagerly await the next command. “Simon says stand up. Sit back down. Ah! I didn’t say ‘Simon says!’”

“I win!” Ryan cheers as Luke sprawls out on his beach towel with a groan. The familiar twinkling tune of an ice cream truck approaching has him bolting up, though. 

“Ice cream?” Luke stands up and balances on his tippy toes to get a better view at the parking lot. When his suspicions are confirmed, he hops up and down. “Ice cream! Daddy, can we get some? Pleeeeease?”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says as if it’s a hardship for him to indulge his boys when in reality he’d already planned on getting ice cream for them at some point tonight. “Get me some too, okay?”

“Cookies and cream?” Ryan asks, citing his dad’s favorite flavor.

“Atta boy,” Eddie says, handing him a ten-dollar bill. Luke starts to walk away and towards the truck, but Eddie stops him with an, “ah-ah-ah. It’s crowded here. I don’t want you to lose each other so hold your brother’s hand.” When Luke opens his mouth to respond, a frown creasing his forehead and his nose wrinkling up, Eddie halts the whining before it even happens. “Hold your brother’s hand.”

“Fine,” Luke huffs and offers his hand to Ryan in the most limp, unenthusiastic manner possible. 

The two walk off and Eddie adjusts his position so he can keep an eye on his sons as they snake their way through the crowd and over to the ice cream truck that already has a line of a few kids in front of it. But from this new angle, Eddie can also see you out of the corner of his eye. A breath rushes out of him as if he’d been holding it since his eyes were last on you. Seeing you makes Eddie calmer and more tense at the same time. As always, your presence brings him comfort and happiness. But you’re with a bunch of guys your own age and the jealousy monster is rearing its ugly head like nobody’s business. Eddie looks down at his lap and his eye catches on his wedding ring, glinting in the fading sun.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Munson,” Eddie mumbles to himself. 

Unable to not look in your direction—I swear to God she’s got something magnetic about her, he thinks—Eddie sees you gazing out over the lake. You raise your hand above your eyes to shield them from the bright, falling sun and look around the whole area where people have settled in to have fun. Eddie’s just about to look away, not wanting to risk being caught staring at you if you spot him, when he sees one of your guy friends walking over to you. It’s not Long Hair from before. This guy is shorter and as muscly as the other guy was scrawny. Eddie can hear him calling your name, but you must be too caught up in your thoughts to hear him. Muscles reaches out and touches your arm to get your attention. As if seeing him just touching you isn’t bad enough, Eddie watches as you turn around to face Muscles, but the guy still doesn’t take his hand off of you. The tanned, muscular hand is slowly moving down your arm and a knot grows in Eddie’s stomach. If this asshole takes your hand, Eddie feels like he might throw up the burger he’s barely started digesting. 

Luckily, you move to walk back towards your group of friends before Muscles’s hand could reach yours. Eddie feels twenty pounds lighter. He turns back to look towards the parking lot and sees his sons approaching, Ryan holding an ice cream in each hand, and Luke holding one and holding onto the back of Ryan’s red t-shirt with the other hand. By the way his youngest son is rolling his eyes as they approach, Eddie realizes it was Ryan’s idea that Luke holds on to him. 

Ryan hands Eddie his scoop of cookies and cream, plopping back down to enjoy the mint chip cone he’d bought for himself. 

“DAD! OH MY GOD, DAD!!” Luke shouts, and Eddie nearly drops his cone. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

Luke points down towards the left. “Look at that doggy! He’s so cute!” Sure enough, a middle-aged couple is walking a golden retriever along the lake. Both boys sit up a bit straighter and watch as the owners toss a tennis ball into the water and the dog eagerly paddles after it. 

As Eddie’s heart rate steadies to a normal pace—seriously, he’s going to have to talk with Luke about using his “emergency voice” when it is not an emergency—he finds his gaze drifting back to you. He’s just in time to see Long Hair take the baseball cap from his own head and put it on top of yours. Eddie silently wills you to take it off, chuck it into the lake, set it on fire…but he’s utterly disappointed when you adjust it to your head and wear it proudly. 

Would she wear something of mine if I gave it to her? He silently wonders. He’s so engrossed in whatever flirtatious games you’re playing that he barely hears his older son trying to get his attention. 

“Daddy, your ice cream is leaking over the cone. Daddy! It’s getting runny and gonna drip! Daddy?”

“And whaddya keep looking that way for? The lake is that way!” Luke chimes in, face covered in cotton candy ice cream. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry, guys,” Eddie mumbles, but he keeps his gaze locked on you. A blonde guy wearing a puka shell necklace like he’s on Hawaii Five-0 points to a beach volleyball net that’s just been vacated, and you and your friends follow him. 

It’s two versus two; Muscles is serving as a referee for this game. You and Puka Shell are on a team, and Long Hair and the only other girl in your group stand on the other side of the net. You serve, the girl returns it, Puka Shell lobbies it to you, and you spike it back, surprising yourself. 

Eddie clenches his fist until he feels the ice cream cone begin to break when your teammate wraps his arms around you in a hug. Jesus H. Christ, whatever happened to high-fives? But he knows that he’d envy any little touch these guys got from you. 

He tries to distract himself, asking Ryan if he’s excited for his birthday, but he’s only half-listening. 

“What do you want for a gift?” he asks, raising his eyebrows when his sons look at him curiously. “What?”

“I just said I wanted a new Lego set,” Ryan says. He’s not annoyed, just confused. “Are you feeling okay, Daddy?”

“Maybe he has scurvy,” Luke suggests, “like the pirates in that movie we watched.”

“‘M fine,” Eddie reassures them. It takes a second for him to register what Luke’s suggested. “Did you just say I had scurvy?”

There’s no time for Luke to elaborate—not that Eddie necessarily wants him to—before your joyous squeal filters through the air. It seems as though you and Puka Shell won the game, because he’s twirling you around triumphantly. 

Does she want him picking her up? Touching her? Eddie’s inner monologue runs wild. Okay, she’s laughing and smiling, so that’s good. She’s fine with it; yeah, so that’s fine. Everything’s fine. We’re all fine here. She’s with her friends, I’m a married man here with my kids, and that’s all there is to it. 

The whistle and boom of the first firework lighting the sky is a welcome distraction. Ryan lets out a gasp as he stares in awe of the red shooting through the dark sky. Luke scoots backwards and plops himself in Eddie’s lap. He leans against Eddie’s chest and lays his head back on his shoulder as he becomes engrossed in the spectacle. It’s been a while since Luke’s sat in his lap like this, so it brings a smile to Eddie’s face. 

Mixtures of red, white, and blue fireworks crackle through the air, occasionally making shapes other than the usual spherical pattern that shimmies down. Eddie looks over at Ryan, who has a bright grin on his face. The red firework currently popping off leaves a scarlet shadow behind on his older son’s face. Beyond Ryan, Eddie glimpses a view of you watching the fireworks. You’re still with your friends, but you’re sitting a little bit in front of them with your legs crossed and your elbows resting on your knees. There’s a peaceful joy on your face and it makes Eddie’s heart give a few thumps harder than usual. Your friends behind you are talking but you couldn’t seem to care less about what they’re saying. You’re solely focused on the show in the sky. Eddie looks back at his kids and sees them just as mesmerized by the bursting colors. Luke snuggles back against his chest and Eddie is filled with warmth. He wraps his arms loosely around Luke and rests his head against his son’s smaller one as he looks up and joins in watching the celebration. 

By the time the fireworks are done, Eddie’s pretty sure his hearing is damaged. Didn’t I used to play in a metal band? Jesus, I’m getting old. Luke springs up from his dad’s lap and Ryan stands up and stretches his arms out over his head, releasing a long yawn. 

“How was that?” Eddie asks as he collects the beach towels they had been sitting on.

“So cool!” Luke says, jumping as if to emphasize his point. 

“I like the ones that make the fizzy noises as they go out,” Ryan says as he picks up the empty Burger King bag and balls it up in his hands. 

“My favorite are the ones that go pheeeeew,” Luke attempts to mimic the whistle, “then BANG!”

“What about you, Daddy?” Ryan asks. 

“Hmm,” Eddie hums as he considers the question. “The ones that were shaped like circles. They looked pretty cool. Okay, now come on and take my hands, guys. It’s gonna be like a stampede getting out of here.” Eddie tucks the towels under one arm and offers a hand to each son. 

They only make it about five steps before Luke is groaning. “It’s going to take forever to—hey! Look!”

Both Eddie and Ryan turn their heads to look in the direction that Luke is pointing. Eddie’s heart stalls in his chest. Luke’s grinning from ear to ear as he notices you walking with your friends. Ryan gives a gasp of delight when his eyes land on you as well. 

“I’m gonna go say hi!” Luke exclaims, and he’s already halfway to you before Eddie can even open his mouth. 

“Luke, I—ugh, shit.” Eddie mumbles the last part under his breath as he leads Ryan by the hand over to you and your friends. Luke is already in your arms by the time they get there. 

“And then the red one went higher than all the others! And I think it had the loudest boom, too,” Luke is saying. You look up and the brightest smile lights up your face as you see Eddie and Ryan standing there. 

“Hey, strangers,” you greet and Ryan dives in for a hug. You chuckle and wrap your arms around him too. 

Long Hair is standing to the side, slightly closer to Eddie than he is to you, and the rest of your friends are behind you. He gives a small chuckle at the intensity of the hugs the kids give you before turning to Eddie and saying, “You want a hug, too?”

You jab Long Hair in the ribs with your elbow, but that only makes him chuckle more and wrap an arm around you to pull you back against him. This time, Eddie notices, you don’t have the same enthusiastic grin that you had earlier in the evening. It takes everything in his power not to pry you from his arms. 

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, yeah?” you ask the Munson men, desperate to fill the silence. 

“Usual time and place,” Eddie says. The words would usually be accompanied by a wink or a smirk, but something about being around these college guys is grating on his nerves and it’s the closest he’s felt to being intimidated since he was a senior in high school—the first time. 

“Bye!” both boys call and wave at you before walking away with their dad. You wave in return, but it looks pitiful compared to their enthusiastic ones. 

As soon as they’re out of earshot, you pull out of your friend's arm and spin around to face him. “Peter, do you ever shut up?”

“Calm down,” Peter says, exhaling a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a scoff. “This guy’s old enough to be your dad.”

Tony smirks and rests a muscled arm on Paul’s shoulder. “Maybe she’s into the whole ‘daddy’ thing.”

The eye roll you give them is involuntary. “You guys are assholes!” 

Turning on your flip flop heel, you spin in the other direction and jog a bit until you catch up with Eddie and the boys. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” Paul asks.

A soft, gentle hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder and he looks back to see you offering him an apologetic smile. 

“I’m sorry if my friends were weird…and I’m sorry if I’m making this weirder.”

Eddie’s entire demeanor changes; despite having to watch you flirt with those douchebags—and then being mocked by them—he can’t help but soften towards you. “Nah, Sweetheart, you’re good. Be safe tonight, okay?” Be safe? Seriously, Munson? What are you, her grandpa?

You don’t seem to notice the way he bites his tongue, trying to quell the surge of embarrassment. “I always am,” you say reassuringly. “See you Monday?”

Eddie nods as you turn around to head back to your friends, utterly oblivious to the way your natural beauty outshines the brightest firework tonight. You’re everything he could ever want, but you’re young and gorgeous with a million better prospects than an old married man. 

He takes one last look at you before he brings the boys to the car. The passenger seat is empty, and he wears a sad smile when he thinks about you sitting there, excitedly chatting with him and the kids about the evening. Eddie would rest his hand on your thigh while he drives back home, and once Ryan and Luke are sound asleep, you and Eddie could make some fireworks of your own. 

Shaking his head, Eddie pulls out from the parking spot and braces himself for the holiday traffic. He grumbles some swear words under his breath, flicking on the radio to the first station that doesn’t have commercials. 

“…say I’m not so tough, just because I’m in love with an uptown girl.”

He leans back in his seat and taps out the rhythm on the steering wheel. Funny, he’s never really been a Billy Joel fan, but something about this song reminds him of—

“Dad! Luke’s looking at me!”

“He looked at me first!”

“Both of you close your eyes,” Eddie orders. He can’t see whether or not they listened, but the squabbling stopped, so he’ll consider it a victory. 

“Uptown girl, she’s my uptown girl…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWs

[0vergrowngraveyard]

“Y’know keed, I think you could reach the stars one day.”

The look Tails gave him made him chuckle. Big blue eyes stared at him with confusion and his head tilted to the side.

“What?” He asked.

“I said ‘I think you could reach the stars one day’.” He repeated, chuckling again at the bland look the kit shot him. Even at just four years old, he had a nasty stink eye.

“S’not what I meant.” Tails hopped off the branch he was sitting on and made his way over to where Sonic was laying in the grass. He sat down next to him and looked up at the beautiful night sky. “I mean what do you mean? That's way too high up! I can’t fly that far!”

Sonic held up a finger, “Not yet, maybe, but someday you’ll be able to!” He tucked the hand behind his hand again as a makeshift pillow,

The kit furrowed his brows as he continued to look at the sky, thinking about what Sonic had just said, until he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sonic looked up at the kit next to him. His big ears had lowered against the back of his head as he looked longingly at the sky.

With a sigh, Sonic opened his arm, a silent invitation for the kit to lay next to him. Tails quickly snuggled up next to him, his namesakes draping across him.

“Well, kiddo,” Sonic started, squeezing the kit closer to him, “You could do anything you put that big brain of yours to so yeah, I think you could do it”

The fox didn’t respond right away so Sonic turned his gaze back to the stars above. He almost thought that the kit had fallen asleep until he tensed up next to him.

“But it would be lonely up there…and I don’t want to be lonely…” His words tugged on the young speedster’s heartstrings. The kid had been alone for a while, maybe even longer than he assumed. In a way, they could relate to each other in that way. It’s not like Sonic had parents waiting for him somewhere, the only family he ever needed was laying next to him, cuddled up against his side.

Sonic wouldn’t let Tails be alone, not anymore.

“Then I’ll just have to go up there with you!” He said, giving the kit another squeeze.

Wide blue eyes turned towards him like he didn’t expect that answer. “Really?”

Sonic chuckled, “Absolutely! Always wanted to see what it looked like up there! And what better way to check it out than with my little buddy!”

Tails looked at him, considering his words for a bit before he smiled and nuzzled into his chest. “If you’re going too, then I’ll try my best.”

Sonic looked down at him to the best of his ability. “Yeah?”

Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn. “mhm…”

A fond smile spread across his muzzle as he looked at the stars, holding his baby brother close to him as the kit drifted off to sleep.

“I’m looking forward to it, lil’ buddy.”

——————

This wasn’t the most ideal situation to be in.

The hedgehog sat alone, surrounded by the rubble of an exploded Eggman base.

He wasn’t sure why it exploded. It was a little dramatic, and not to mention totally rude, of the doctor to blow up his own base while he and Tails were inside. All they wanted was to delete a few files and completely trash the place!

Sonic was worried about his brother, they had been separated during the countdown and he had no clue where the kid was.

He would be turning this place inside out looking for him if it wasn’t for the world spinning due to a head injury and his leg being broken.

Oh, and the metal rod stabbed through his side, causing him to quickly bleed out.

Yeah, it was far from ideal.

But it would be better once he knew his kid was safe and judging from the vitals visible on his communicator, it seemed like he was fine.

He just hoped he’d be able to see him before-

“SONIC!” A young voice called out. “SONIC! CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

A smile quirked up in his muzzle. Looks like dying wishes do come true.

“I’m…I’m over here, bud!” He called back. He cringed at how weak his voice sounded.

The sound of the fox moving debris around and making his way towards him filled the area until he watched the kit duck under something as he finally came into view.

A horrified gasp came from him as he looked at the hedgehog who was sitting in a small pool of his own blood.

“Hey, buddy…fancy seeing you here.” He coughed out.

“Sonic!” Tails was at his side in an instant. His breathing rapidly increased as he looked over his big brother, not knowing what to do. “D-don’t worry! I’ll get you out- I’ll get you out of here! I promise! Just hang on”

“Tails.”

The kit brought up his communicator and seemingly sent out a quick distress signal to anyone who would see it. “It’s okay- it’s gonna be okay. Let me…I- I can…“ Tears started forming in the kit’s eyes as he struggled with his words, the gravity of the situation crushing him.

“Tails.”

His little brother looked at him and oh how Sonic wanted to get rid of that expression on his face. He didn’t want those tears to be there at all.

“I’m so, so proud of you, bud.” Sonic smiled at him, “I…I didn't tell you that enough….”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Tails yelled, tears pouring down his cheek, “You’re gonna be okay! I- I promise! I’m gonna fix this! I- I swear—!“

His breath hitched as the hedgehog’s trembling hand weakly cupped his cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. Tails held the hand closer, eyes squeezed shut as he nuzzled against it as he whimpered.

“Hey.”

Tails opened his eyes and for a precious second, all Sonic could do was stare into them.

Next to yellow, Sonic’s favorite color was blue. Not because he was blue (at least that wasn’t the entire reason, only part of it), but because whenever he looked next to him, aside from yellow, that’s the color he saw the most.

Those big baby blue eyes of his little brother. He watched them go from dull, hopeless, and terrified to bright with trust and wonder. He would do anything to keep those eyes shining.

Though, they were shiny with tears now, which made Sonic sad. He didn’t want the kit to be upset, he didn’t deserve it. His kid deserved nothing but joy and the best the world had to offer.

“This isn’t on you to fix, lil’ buddy. Please—“ He took in a shaky breath, “p-please don’t blame yourself for this…”

Tails just cries into his hand, tears mixing with his brother’s blood. He chokes out apology after apology. Sonic doesn’t understand why he’s apologizing, he didn’t do anything wrong. The kit could never do anything wrong in Sonic’s eyes. Call him biased or accuse him of having tunnel vision all you want, he could never get mad at Tails.

Especially not for this, not for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“Bud, can I ask you a favor?”

Tails’ nods his head violently, face still nestled in his brother’s hand. “Mhm!”

It took a moment to find his voice.

“I-I want you to explore the world for me…”

He knew it was kind of an odd request to be coming from someone like himself, someone who traveled the world almost daily, but he had his reasons.

It was his way of telling the kit not to shut down when he goes. Not to hide from the world, but to continue to embrace and protect it.

To keep living in it.

Tails pauses as he slowly looks at the hedgehog, confusion etched on his face. “B-but…but you’ve-“

“I know…” Sonic weakly chuckles, “I’ve seen all over Mobius more times than I can count.”

“Th-then why-?”

“Because you haven’t, lil’ bro.” Sonic interrupts him, “I want you to see it all too.”

Sonic fights down a cough before he continues, “So can ya do that for me, bud? Go see the world?”

Continue to live. If not for yourself, then for both of us.

Tails once again nodded, pressing against his hand again, “Yes! I promise! I promise I’ll see everything! The tallest mountain, deepest cave, I’ll be there! I’ll be there…!”

Sonic smiled.

Good

He let out a sob, “But…but I want you to be there with me! I want to see it all t-together…”

The hedgehog let out a chuckle that almost sounded painful, “I’ll be there bud, always…just not, y’know, physically.” He coughed, “But you’ll n’ver be al’ne. I’ll ‘lways be right by ‘ur side.”

More tears fell down Tails’ cheek as his words started slurring. Looks like his time was almost up.

His smile wavered a bit. He wanted nothing more in life than to see what his little brother would accomplish in life. He wanted to stand there with him, to be his shadow for once, to watch the kit shine his light that’s been covered for so long.

It hurt knowing he wouldn’t get to see it. It hurt so much more than the metal rod sticking out of his side. It hurt more than the head or leg injuries he sustained. It hurt more than any little cut or bruise he had on his battered body.

But hey. It’s the thought that counts, right? He sure hopes so.

Chaos, he’s so cold. He didn’t even realize it until now. Someone should turn up the heater in this place or something.

There's only one part of his body that feels warm: the hand his brother is holding.

Tails was always so warm. He was lucky he had such thick and fluffy fur. Sure, it sucked in the summer when he would shed and overheat, but it was nice every other season. He loved his brother’s fur, his namesakes, his big ears and, Chaos, he really did love everything about him.

His kid really was amazing.

He silently beckoned Tails to cuddle up against his side, just like he’d do when the kid was having a nightmare.

If only this could just be a nightmare. Just a horrible, horrible nightmare.

The fox seemed to understand that his brother was freezing and he quickly curled up against his side. His namesakes draped across his lap and curled around him and he hugged Sonic, burying his face into the crook of his neck. He could feel his short fur getting soaked with tears but he didn’t care. He never cared about something like that.

He let his head settle on top of the kit and he closed his eyes. He was warm and cuddled up with his baby brother.

He couldn’t think of a more perfect way for him to go.

So with one last, and long overdue, “I love you” (the pained cry that came from the kit broke his heart), he let himself fade.

He couldn’t wait to watch Tails reach the stars from above.

#i did manage to finish it! #it’s a little rushed in a few spots but ignore that #blue boy angst is all that matters #anyway i sure do love parallels #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #unbreakable bond #the brothers ever #fic

[highvern]

Track 12: Wildflower - 5 Seconds of Summer

‘’I see the color in your veins // It makes me smile, it makes me shake’’

Pairing: Chwe Hanson (Vernon) x reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: stoner!vernon, camboy!vernon, camgirl!reader, stoner!reader, exhibitionism, mentions of facials and fingering, non-idol au

Length: ~600

Note: paying homage to my namesake

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

User: chewmeup is live with tastelikehoney !

The swirl of red and purple lights illuminates your scantily clad figure, shivering slightly in your boyfriend's hold as you watch viewers pour into the chat. Several you recognize as frequent flyers, but a few new names pop up here and there. Since you started streaming as a couple, both your accounts witnessed a rapid increase of subscribers. 

“Hi guys.” You smile, fanning the smoke away from your face as Vernon exhales before passing the bong to you. 

Taking a deep inhale, you read some of the comments while gently combing through your boyfriend's hair.

MILFMAKERGYU: hey pretty girl ;)

420jun: mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry

You roll your eyes at the usual antics. Vernon remains silent behind you, reading comments as you plant languid pecks across his cheeks and chin. Something about the camera and the intoxicating smoke filling your veins made you extra touchy, desperate to feel everything the man beneath you had to offer. 

hwasaJA: oooo is that a new set?

Vernon uses his nose to nudge you away and towards the computer screen, one of his hands settling on the back of your neck and allowing his thumb to stroke below your ear.

“It is!” You smile. “Do you guys like it? Someone sent it to our P.O. box last week.”

MILFMAKERGYU tipped $250

i.m.whatiam: ur welcome :)

Boowho donated $100

Boowho: lets get this show on the road

 “Someone’s eager,” Vernon tsks.

Usually, nothing happened until a certain number of tips came through but when one person tipped others immediately followed until dollar signs filled the screen and you hit the quota only a few minutes in.

Turning in place, you smirk at Vernon before standing. 

“I guess we’re starting early tonight, babe.” You say loud enough for the mic to pick up as you round the chair to stand behind.

“You don’t wanna ask them?”

Memyselfandbi: ask us what?

Memyselfandbi donated $200

MILFMAKERGYU: yes, i’ll be your third

Rolling your eyes, more curious questions fly through the chat window and so do tips; each attached with a request to decide whatever will happen between you and Vernon tonight. Auctioning off different things wasn’t new to your streams but tonight was a surprise to celebrate the highest earning month either of you had experienced.

“Since you guys are being so generous, we planned two options. If you vote for mine, you’ll get to see my baby treated right. And if you choose his, then we’ll all be bored.”

“Not for me,” Vernon grumbles.

420jun: i vote whatever you want honey!!!

“Aw that’s sweet,” you giggle.

Vernon snorts. The chat is full of people simping for you, trying to gain a second of attention with similar messages. Luckily, he isn't as easily swayed by your batting eyelashes.

“If you choose mine then Honey is gonna ride my fingers for the camera.”

“And if you wanna see me with cum on my face you should pick mine.” You sigh, tracing your nose along the curve of Vernon’s neck, nipping gently at his ear to make him jolt.

The chat descends into chaos as a moderator unlocks a poll. More tips flood in, attempting to sway your decision but you and Vernon spare a glance at each other with knowing smiles. 

No matter what they decide, they’ll get both in the end. A win win for everyone.

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #vernon smut #svt smut #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #vernon fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #vernon imagines #hansol vernon chwe #🫡 highvern

[berryhobii]

Welcome to PixieKiss

The Masterlist

CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION! I AM WORKING ON CONDENSING IT. Please bear with me as I make changes. 🩵

Ⓒ— My works are copyrighted and belong to me! If anyone wants to translate them, please ask me first just I can keep track of them! Thanks🩵

Disclaimer: Everything I write are works of fiction. I only use the idol’s physical appearance and namesake. Please do not take anything I write as serious depictions.

All of my works will be black!Reader and black!coded. I mainly describe brown and dark skin types but I will definitely be incorporating all skin complexions since we do come in all colors. If you have any questions, please don’t be afraid to ask! I want this to be a safe space for black and melanated readers to feel represented in fanfiction. I will not tolerate any aggressions or bullying.

In Progress: ✏️

Smut/Suggestive: ❤️

Fluff: 🩷

Angst: 🖤

More to be added as I expand my works

Kim Namjoon

One Shots:

My Person(boyfriend!Namjoon x reader) ❤️🩷

Summary: Namjoon was your person. And you were his. Here’s the story of how you fell in love.

Fics:

None Yet!

Drabbles/Asks:

First Time(My Person couple) ❤️🩷

Summary: #askberryhobii. Story of the My Person’s couple first time.

Pure(boyfriend!Namjoon x reader)❤️🩷

Summary: You were pure. He was not. He could change that.

Happy Weight(husband!Namjoon x reader)❤️🩷

Summary: #askberryhobii. When you put on happy weight.

Fire Burning(firefighter!husband!Namjoon x reader)❤️

Summary: #askberryhobii. Your firefighter husband comes home sweaty and you can’t help yourself.

Jealous(husband!Namjoon x thick!reader)🩷❤️

Summary: A stranger gets a little too close to your husband. He shows you exactly who he belongs to and why.

You’re Mine(boyfriend!Namjoon x reader)❤️

Summary: You’re his. No one else���s.

Kim Seokjin

One Shots:

Baby Girl(SugarDaddy!Seokjin x brat!reader)❤️🩷

Summary: Seokjin spoiled you rotten but how could he not when you were his baby girl?

Baby Girl: Show Out(SugarDaddy!Seokjin x brat!reader) ❤️🩷

Summary: You parade through the hallways of your sugar daddy’s company like you own it and it might as well be.

Nice Guys Finish…(ft. Kim Namjoon)(Roommate!Seokjin x Neighbor!Namjoon x reader) ✏️❤️🩷

Summary: Seokjin’s been secretly harboring a crush on his roommate. The only problem? So does his coworker who also happens to live right across the hall.

Games(Boyfriend!Kim Seokjin x reader)❤️

Summary: Your boyfriend isn’t giving you attention, too focused on his stupid computer game so you take matters into your own hands.

Fics:

None Yet!

Drabbles/Asks:

None yet!

Jung Hoseok

One shots:

Class In Session(DanceInstructor!Hoseok x Stripper!Reader) ✏️❤️🩷

Summary: Hoseok was excited to hear about a new teacher at the community center. He wondered what kind of person you’d be, what kind of class you’d teach. He also wondered what the hell you were doing on stage at a strip club.

Clouds(Strangers to lovers, soulmate au) 🩷🖤

Summary: Clouds drifted overhead, rain pouring over the monochrome colors of your life. Then the sun parted those clouds, showing you a rainbow.

Dessert(boyfriend!Hoseok x reader)🩷❤️

Summary: You and Hoseok try something new.

Fics:

Karma(Mafia!Hoseok x Assassin!Reader, Mafia/Assassin au) ✏️❤️🩷🖤

Summary: When a looming danger threatens the people you love, you have to come out of hiding and step back into your place as The Whisper; the deadliest assassin known to man. Taking people’s lives were easy, loving Hoseok was even easier, and having to face him once again after leaving would prove to be the toughest challenge of your life.

Prologue Chap 1 Chap 2

Drabbles/Asks:

I’m Not Done(boyfriend!Hoseok x reader)❤️

Summary: Hoseok wasn’t done with you.

Far from it.

Min Yoongi

One Shots:

Reconnect(husband!Yoongi x thick!reader)❤️🩷

Summary: Yoongi’s been so busy lately and you two haven’t been spending much time together. You bring him some dinner and reconnect on a deeper level. Verrryyyyyy deep.

Edible(Weedman!Yoongi x reader) ✏️❤️🩷

Summary: You were the picture perfect student; perfect grades, gleaming recommendations from your teachers, and the pride of your family. You didn’t get into trouble, didn’t go to parties, you’ve never even kissed anyone yet. After your friend forced you out of your dorm and to a frat party, you realized just what you were missing out on; in the form of a long haired dealer with delicious marshmallow treats.

Adrenaline(Rockstars!Yoongi and Lee Jihoon(Woozi) x reader)

Summary: The bass. The drums. The riff of the guitar. Their hands. Your lips. Leather. Belts. Adrenaline. Ecstasy.

Fics:

None Yet!

Drabbles/Asks:

The Dressing Room(SugarDaddy!Boyfriend!Yoongi x reader) ❤️🩷

Summary: #askberryhobii. Yoongi loves that dress on you. He shows you just how much.

MoonBeams(merman!Yoongi x mermaid!reader)🩷🖤

Summary: #askberryhobii. Every night you return to the water and every night you remember why you left. But you could never forget the sparkle of his eyes reflected in the beams of the moon.

Overwhelmed(fiancé!Yoongi x reader)🖤🩷❤️

Summary: Your day has been going horribly. Your fiancé helps you come down to earth

I Swear(fiancé!Producer!Yoongi x Artist!Reader)🩷❤️

Summary: Yoongi swore he’d finish before lunch time.

Silent Treatment(husband!Yoongi x reader)🩷❤️

Summary: You give Yoongi the silent treatment and he doesn’t like it.

Do Not Disturb(fwb!Yoongi x reader)❤️

Summary: You really need to remember to keep your phone on silent.

Park Jimin

One Shots:

Down Bad(FuckBoy!Jimin x reader)✏️❤️🩷

Summary:

Rule 1: Never go over the woman’s house

Rule 2: Never sleep over

Rule 3: Never sleep with the same person twice

These 3 rules are what Jimin lived by but then you came along and he was ready to break all of them.

Part 1 Part 2

Hurry Home(fiancé!Jimin x plus size!reader) ❤️🩷

Summary: You send Jimin some naughty videos during his night with the boys.

Fics:

Thread(Ares!Jimin x goddess!reader,Reincarnation au)✏️🩷❤️🖤

Summary: You were his oasis where the water never ran dry. He was the garden where blooms shone like diamonds. His lips were of the sweetest ambrosia that made you forget your sour past, your embrace a blanket that shielded him from the nightmare that was his life. Your souls were safe in the hands of one another. Nothing could ever separate you, the daisy chain you’ve woven entwining your fate and destinies until the end of time.

Prologue Chap.1. Chap.2 Chap.3

Drabbles/Asks:

Pool Party(boyfriend!Jimin x chubby!reader)🩷❤️

Summary: #askberryhobii. After a pool party at your friend’s house, you and Jimin go home for some private time.

One Margarita(husband!Jimin x reader)🩷❤️

Summary: Brunch with the girls was great but hot drunk sex with your husband was even better.

Favorite Thing(boyfriend!Jimin x thick!reader)🩷❤️

Summary: #askberryhobii. Jimin has a few favorite things about you.

Kim Taehyung

One Shots:

Lilac(ex-fiancé!Taehyung x reader) ✏️🩷🖤❤️

Summary: Your hands trembled as you tried to pick of the pieces of your heart that he had shattered. The saltiness of your tears made the wound burn, agony seeping into the crevices and cracks of your very soul. He had left you; broken and alone with nothing to remember him by except the lilac tattoo on your wrist.

Break Pads(mechanic!Taehyung x tall!reader) 🩷🩷

Summary: There were a lot about cars you didn’t know. Like apparently you were supposed to get your break pads changed every 35,000 or so miles. They didn’t teach you that in driver’s ed.

Visage(art student!Taehyung x nude model!reader)✏️🩷❤️

Summary: Taehyung didn’t think anything of it when he signed up for a nude painting class. He was just exited to get more experience under his belt. Your body was a canvas, and he, the brush.

Drabbles/Asks:

Distracted Driver (pornstar!Taehyung x pornstar!reader)❤️

Summary: Taehyung needs to keep his eyes on the road.

More (Distracted Driver couple)❤️

Summary: You and Taehyung film some more content

Jeon Jungkook

One Shots:

Late For Work(husband!Jungkook x reader)🩷❤️

Summary: Jungkook wakes you up and sends you off to work all hot bothered. Just wait until you get home!

Late For Work: Clocked Out(husband!Jungkook x reader)🩷❤️

Summary: You’ve clocked out. It’s time to go home.

In Motion(strangers to lovers, plus size!reader)✏️🩷❤️

Summary: Jungkook didn’t know you. Not even your name. What he did know though? That you had the most perfect ass in history and he wanted to see how you moved it.

Drabbles/Asks:

Candy Crush(Late For Work couple) 🩷

Summary: #askberryhobii. How the Late For Work couple met.

No Nut November(Late For Work couple) ❤️

Summary: The Late For Work couple attempts No Nut November.

Unaware(Late For Work couple)❤️

Summary: You hardly pay much attention whenever you’re with Jungkook. He does though.

Every Time(Late For Work Couple)🩷❤️🖤

Summary: #askberryhobii. Jungkook would be there whenever insecurity came to haunt you. Every time.

Mood Swings(husband!Jungkook x pregnant!reader)🩷

Summary: Jungkook’s grown used to your mood swings.

OT7

One Shots:

7 Different Sheets(FuckBuddies!BTS x reader)❤️

Summary: You have 7 fuck buddies. How did you fit them all into your schedule?

Fics:

Insatiable(BTS x Succubus!reader) ✏️🩷❤️

Summary: Poised and dangerous, you stalked your next meal. Like flies to a web, they all became ensnared in your delicately laid trap. You eat them up until there was nothing left and they’d give until you were satisfied. Anything to placate your insatiable appetite.

Drabbles/Asks:

None Yet!

—————————————————————————————————————

I don’t own any of the photos.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts x black reader #bts imagines #masterlist #masterpost #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut

[littlemissmanga]

A Teasing Echo

This is gonna get spicy, so I'll put it below the cut

Echo is the kind of dom who will softly tease you. And the main way he'll do that is his namesake -- he'll repeat every request you make back to you so you can hear how filthy your needy little pleas sound in his gruff voice.

Because of this, he'll tell you to use your words often when you're intimate.

Sometimes, you'll get a "good girl" and his response is sincere, a way for him to confirm your consent, His tone is soft, gentle but he still feels his stomach twist pleasantly at seeing how flustered you get at the sound.

"You want to ride me, love? My good girl knows how to ask so nicely for what she needs. Of course, baby, come sit right here."

But other times, it has a mocking edge as he actively seeks to get a rise out of you, to push you just that little bit more to losing control. Watching how your usual wit is drowned out by pleasure until all you can do is whine and moan for more all because of him.

"Oh? You want me to fuck you from behind? Fill you nice you nice and deep as I make your ass bounce on my cock? Well, how can I say no?"

He's never actually been able to tease you to your breaking point because his own usually ironclad patience runs out long before yours does. That's because he can't find it in himself to deny you what you want for very long, especially when he wants it just as much.

Either way the night unfolds, Echo will make sure you get exactly what you asked for.

Afterward, he pulls you into the shower with him, cleaning you off gently and showering you with praise -- telling you how good you were for him, how perfect you were, how happy he is and how glad he is that he could make you feel good. Just turns the softness up to the max before settling in bed with you.

Taglist: @dreamie411 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream

#tbb echo #arc trooper echo #tcw echo #echo headcanons #spicy #clone thirsting #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11d

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

While Glorfindel talks further to Eluréd-and-Elurín/Alphsîr-and-Alphlîn and Celeborn hovers awkwardly to the side, everyone else finishes setting up camp and tries not to gossip too obviously.

A top matter of discussion is why Eluréd and Elurín are using different names.

Risyind figures they wanted to use different names to suit the different lives they were taking.

Khitwê suggests they might have thought someone would react to the "Elu" negatively, as he gathers their namesake is somewhat… contentious?

Legolas says Thingol isn't that contentious… but if they didn't want history and politics following them everywhere, well…

Zuste says she was just assuming they couldn't remember their original names.

Oh right peredhil may not experience elvish clarity of childhood memory.

Elladan and Elrohir (and Arwen) actually have very elf-typical early childhood memories, or at least feel like they do. How much that's organic and how much that was helped along by family and community patching up any holes is impossible to say at this point.

Which is to say, both Celeborn and Glorfindel know about the peredhil childhood memory thing, but they don't know know about it. It may not have occurred to them. Elladan figures someone should probably remind them later.

(Sharlinnu thinks automatically forgetting infancy sounds like a pretty good deal at this point but elects not to bring it up and inevitably derail the conversation.)

Gimli as well as the Hirnedhrim had no idea that elves did remember their infancies. Gimli and Zena would like to be able to remember; Zuste and Dyn would not.

"—And I'm surprised you do, Zena. What are you expecting to remember that you would want to?"

"Maybe I want to know if Dielina is telling the truth about baby you biting everyone you met."

(Dielina is five years older than Zena, who is three years older than Zuste. The goblin-men of Dunland mostly came in runs like that — three to eight inside a decade or two, then longer gaps. …While the Fair Orc was busy being dead, apparently.) (There were, of course, a number of older yet siblings around to raise them, at the time. They're just all dead now.)

Elladan steers the conversation onto safer (if irrelevant) ground by starting to recount all the biting Dúnedain children he had Elrohir have met over the centuries.

(The Sons of Fëanor do not say anything.)

(In addition to not wanting to attract attention, Celegorm really doesn't have anything to say.)

(Maglor knows knows about the peredhil childhood memory thing, having been witness to Elrond and Elros realizing they had lost things. They tried not to make a big deal out of it, especially in front of him, but. He knows knows.)

(He also knows that two small children focused on each other will not, necessarily, use each other's names enough to be well reminded of them.)

(Maglor is quite sure they don't remember whose name was whose.)

(He is saying nothing.)

*****

Elladan and Elrohir make the nightly palantír-call to Arwen as quietly and unobtrusively as they can, and report the confirmed arrival of their great-uncles. Swan-uncles.

"They don't seem to want to talk to anyone right now," Elrohir says.

"They don't seem to particularly want to be here," Elladan adds. "I don't think they would have come if Caraxitári — the Queen of the Geese — hadn't pushed them to."

"I think she's hoping they'll… re-acclimate?" Arwen offers.

(Re-imprint. The Queen of the Geese is hoping they'll re-imprint on the correct species.)

"I'm not sure whether there's any chance of that if they don't want to…"

When the conversation dies down, Gimli comes over to see if he can talk to Aragorn for a few minutes. He needs to share Celeborn not only calling Gimli a 'hero of the last war' but calling Gimli's people 'staunch allies'.

"Did he mean my people at Aglon? Erebor? The Line of Durin? Longbeards? He can't have meant all dwarves—"

"Honestly I think he was probably just trying to emphasize that they could trust you specifically…"

Meanwhile Zena is, by popular Zuste and Dyn's request, retelling the story of That Time Four Of Our Siblings Went Up To Those Marshes Where The Border-River Meets The Greyflood And Had A Survival Horror Experience Involving The Local Swans.

****

Glorfindel gets as far as showing Alphsîr and Alphlîn what it looks like when he gathers his power in order to apply it. He's starting to talk them through the process when one of the Geese circles overhead.

"That's Caraxitári," Alphsîr says. "She means it's time for us to sleep."

He still sounds very stiff and awkward but that is definitely disgruntlement.

"If you're living like swans that does make sense?" Celeborn offers. "Would you like to overnight here, or return to the Geese?"

"…We'll stay," Alphsîr says finally.

They turn back into swans, and settle themselves in the grass.

After a while they fall asleep.

Celeborn sits down right where he was standing. "What's the strongest thing we have to drink?"

Glorfindel: "…Sorry, but we didn't think this was the sort of journey that would allow for alcoholic indulgences."

Glorfindel is not saying: Also you and Maglor between you have polished off at least half of Imladris's remaining liquor stores since this whole thing started and I might want some of that at some point, did you ever think about that!

Celeborn: "Legolas Thranduilion. Do you or do you not have a few skins of Mirkwood moonshine somewhere in your baggage."

Legolas: had not realized Celeborn knows about that

Glorfindel: "If you're hung over tomorrow I'm not explaining it to the twins. Either twins."

#a tolkien tag #orc bank #orc bank unforsaken

[toskarin]

I got a few questions about what was going on with SUGARBABYLOVE, so I started typing it out and then stopped and realised it'd be much funnier to do an extremely granular point-by-point explanation of nearly every single reference and influence in it

how serious am I being? either entirely shitposting or being completely transparent. intentionally left blank as an exercise in reader imagination. nightmare post below the break

all lovers make the same mistakes

BLUE SIDE

Sugar Baby Love, Les Blue Belles - the namesake of the piece, and also where I colourpicked the original background from

Komeiji Satori, Touhou Project - the Łucja on the left's personality is inspired by Satori

Fuura Kafuka, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei - not actually referenced directly in Łucja's design, but a later reference makes this important to point out now

Litchi☆Hikari Club - I didn't realise it until after I finished, but I was 100% unconsciously focusing this image on hands because of L☆HC

Las dos Fridas - somewhat inherited imagery from the Komeijis, but I did have it in mind

Subarashiki Hibi ~Furenzoku Sonzai~ - the background, faintly visible at the top of the image, is based on a certain cool hideout. also note the Łucjas' eyes, for no particular reason

Thurible - the cross at the centre of the image rests on top of a thurible. because the top and bottom of the middle section are obscured, it rests mostly out of frame

Embryonic Rabbit and La Vierge au Lapin - the smoke enveloping the central cross is taking the shape of an embryonic rabbit, not quite fully developed, not quite corporeal

Fuura Kafuka, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei - the X pins on Łucja's hat are actually hairpins that she moves up when wearing the hat. in this image, the second Łucja has swapped hers for straight pins

Komeiji Koishi, Touhou Project - the left Łucja's exhausted expression has been switched out for an empty smile. cute!

Altarpiece - the layout of the image is inspired by an altarpiece, albeit with certain sections obscured. accordingly, the piece centres on an (embryonic) rabbit wrapped around a cross

ORANGE SIDE

Berserk - it's kind of hard to include eclipse imagery without pulling from Berserk if you're poisoned. it goes without saying that I am poisoned.

Mushi, The Stalin - this album art was always really striking to me, so it was only natural to homage it. I'm actually a pretty big fan of The Stalin, so references to them show up in a (kind of embarrassing) amount of my creative output

Trash, The Stalin - the mass of gory hands is kind of self-explanatory here

De fornas likgaldrar, Bekëth Nexëhmü - this one requires extra explanation because I fucked up and got a story wrong. during the recording of an album, one member of this duo tried to strangle the other and they broke up the band for a while. the problem is that I misremembered, because it wasn't De fornas likgaldrar that got delayed, it was De dunkla herrarna. so this is an entirely aesthetic pull now.

Eastern Cross and Brazen Serpent - this one's kind of hard to explain if you don't know what Bartholomew's crosier looks like, but it's being gestured at with Ophian imagery as things get more chaotic towards the centre of the image

Gleb Sysoev - while the straps aren't visible in this image after colouring, the outfit both Łucjas are wearing is somewhere between a gakuran and the outfit Gleb often wears while performing with Ultar

Squigly - the snake wrapping around the right Łucja emerged after I got frustrated with how out-of-place her crab claw looked and opted not to include it. I still wanted one really confusing thing in the image, and I ended up landing on using Squigly's Parasite

That One Fucking Scene From Gokseong/The Wailing - another case of me misremembering something, except this time it was the context of the scene literally warping my memory of it. you know the one scene in the cave? I thought it included a much closer shot of the stranger's eyes. I might have mixed it up in my head with that one scene from Insidious, but oh well lol

Angel's curse whispered in the edge of despair, Envy - it got drawn over to the point where it's not entirely obvious, but the background behind Łucja was originally based on this album art

Melty Blood: Actress Again: Current Code Character Select - honestly kind of self-explanatory I hope

why'd you read all that

#doodles #you can read this as a case study in what happens when someone tries to include a few references and ADHD takes the wheel

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

The Producer

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 2, 137

Summary: it’s my birthday and wanted to do something fun, alsothis was my excuse to create my dream cast for a live-action Powerpuff Girls film!

Warnings: random celebrity cameos, lots of adorableness, Dieter being Dieter so some saucy suggestions

Check out masterlist here

“Dieter, who is that?”

“No one.”

Clara immediately popped up waving, “Hi mummy!”

You scooted over and kissed her on the cheek but kept that scolding glare on your husband.

“How many times have I told you not to bring her on set?”

“She wanted to see you.”

“Jojo!” she exclaimed.

“Did someone bring me a baby to cuddle?” Jack Black was already under a layer of makeup to portray said character, minus the big brain. Dieter plopped the eager toddler onto his lap which immediately started to jiggle.

“Pudding!”

“I’m 50% pudding!” Her laughter made it hard for you to be mad.  Eventually you took her from the soft clutches of the actor.

“Say bye to Jojo.”

“Bye Jojo!”

You handed her off to Dieter. “Put her back in daycare before we start getting complaints,” you gave her another kiss on the cheek but kept up the stern face.

“Okay,” Dieter sighed and begrudgingly took Clara back to the on-set daycare.

It was a wonderful idea, an on-set daycare. Wonder why it wasn’t thought of before. It was thought up by the writer who had a child of their own and didn’t want to leave them with nannies. This brought several great people on to the project as they now no longer had to worry over who would look after their little ones of various ages. The director herself had a toddler and was overjoyed to have her close by and would bring her little Bianca on set. You were signed on as head of special effects makeup but mainly your job was bringing Mojo Jojo to life. Dieter was playing Professor Utonium and Clara had finally accepted the fact that her father was still the same person even though he had shaved his beard. Occasionally she would still glare at him with suspicion.

The whole cast and crew were very friendly, and everyone got on well. You had yet to meet the writers or producers, but they didn’t have to be on set as much as everyone else.

You read through Dieter’s script and absolutely loved how the film started as the Powerpuff girls were growing up and going to high school in Citysville while Professor Utonium had a mid-life crisis which gave Mojo Jojo the opportunity to lure his old creator into being a villain. But underneath the fun, cartoon-like joy was the fear of girls being made to grow up too quickly and losing childhood. You shed tears over Blossoms speech critiquing those who stole the chance for girls to be safe and not letting them stay children.

Right now, you were looking at the psychedelic set which was having its backdrop changed.

“Oh wow, it’s like Colour Out of Space!”

“It is,” you turned to the man next to you, “Wait, you’ve seen that film?”

*****

Dieter saw you in deep conversation as he left the set for the day and made his way over to the on-set daycare. Dieter loved the daycare as he loved being able to see his daughter almost anytime and give her a cuddle.

Clara had made several friends already as they had similar interests, mostly bugs. Bianca, the director’s daughter, had curly brown hair and brown eyes which immediately made them twins.

Dieter went over to the two girls, “Hello there Clara,” he said to Bianca.

The girls both giggled. “I’m not Clara,” said Bianca.

“You’re not?” he turned to Clara, “Hi Bianca.”

Again they both giggled. “I’m Bianca!” exclaimed her namesake.

“Daddy silly!” said Clara.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bianca,” Dieter said to his daughter who burst into even more giggles. He picked up the right little girl and gave Clara a big kiss on the cheek. Both of them waved bye to Bianca and Dieter gave an interested glance at her father who just walked in as Dieter walked out.

“Hello cupcake!” he carried her out to the car where you were waiting for them.

“You were being chatty with the producer,” Dieter said as he got in the car.

“Oh that was the producer? We were talking about Colour Out of Space. I don’t know anyone who’s watched it and I was so excited to talk about it with someone!”

Dieter mumbled something incoherent but shrugged it off.

“There’s something familiar about him but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. He is somewhat adorable like you.”

“Adorable?”

“Not as adorable as you. No one is as adorable as you. Except Clara.”

“She can out-adorable anyone.”

*****

Dieter had snuck Clara onto set the next day. He was going to introduce her to his on-screen daughters.

“This is my baby girl, Clara. Cupcake, these are the Powerpuff Girls.”

Clara looked at the three actresses and pointed accordingly, “Bubbles, Blossom, Buttercup?”

Emma Myers, Halle Bailey and Shioli Kutsuna reacted the way one would when meeting the small, adorable offspring of Dieter Bravo, they cooed and fawned over her.

You hadn’t noticed all this as you were having another nerdy discussion with the producer.

“I’m sorry, I never really got your answer before but, what is your favourite film?”

“The question really should be what is my favourite film at the moment?”

He had a look that seemed similar to when your husband had discovered you put Kit Kats in something. “Wow, no one has ever asked me that before.”

“I always thought just narrowing it down to just a handful makes it really hard to decide.”

“Exactly!”

Dieter however, noticed this as he snuck Clara back to the on-set daycare.

“I saw you being very chummy with the producer today,” he asked you later at home.

“Oh we were having this discussion over The Wicker Man and wait, Dieter are you jealous?”

“No,” he mumbled.

You put your book down and looked at your husband. “Dieter, you have nothing to worry about. I’m ridiculously in love with you and nothing will change that. If Mike Flanagan showed up with a cheeseboard, I’d say thank you, but no.”

“But you’d take the cheeseboard?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

*****

The on-set daycare was filled with children eager for their parents to take them home. Clara made another friend called Ari. Her curls were golden honey so sadly she wasn’t a twin but her and Clara were best friends as they both loved spiders.

Clara saw her father enter the room and ran up to greet him. Upon getting closer, she realised this was not her father.

“Daddy?”

The man kneeled down, “I’m sorry bonita, I’m not your father.”

Ari came up beside her friend, “Papa!” She was welcomed with open arms by the man who looked like her father. Suspicions were already forming in her two-year-old brain.

You were picking up Clara today as Dieter was still rehearsing some last-minute choreography for the big crazy musical number where Professor Utonium has his mid-life crisis while also being seduced by all the Townsville villains including Him who was being portrayed by Yanis Marshall (aka, the dancing Deadpool in the Ashes music video, the voice provided later by Crispin Freeman and Kari Wahlgren) You walked into the room and found Clara in her one-sided glaring competition with the producer. She managed to break her glaring when you picked her up. She pointed at the man, “Not daddy?”

“That’s right, it’s not daddy. He looks nothing like him.”

But Clara went back to her evil glaring. The man who looked like her father but was not her father could only result in one conclusion.

“Evil daddy.”

“Why do you think he’s evil? He’s a very nice man.”

This man must be her father’s evil clone, it was the only thing that made sense. But it was hard for a toddler to explain this to her mother and the thought of explaining this made her feel tired and confused so she ended up just burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you said to him. “Usually her dad picks her up, so she thinks you’re her dad. But he had to shave his beard and she must be missing it and saw yours so...” you shrugged.

“Oh no, that’s fine,” he turned to the girl in his arms. “Is this your friend?”

She nodded, “Spider.”

You both looked confused until you properly introduced your daughter.

“This is Clara.”

“Oh, nice to meet you Clara,” but she was too busy being tired and confused over the thought of her father having an evil clone to acknowledge this man.

Thankfully Clara had recovered when she was in the arms of her father, although he was confused when she was calling him real daddy.

“She’s missing the beard, as am I.”

He kissed both of you on the cheek, “I’m missing it too.”

Clara was overjoyed to see her actually father and not some evil clone.

“Not evil!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Not evil?” he gave you a confused look, but you replied with an I’ll-explain-later look.

*****

The next day, you were immersed in your new book while on a tea break.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude your reading, but I couldn’t help but admire your book.”

Lifting your head, you came face to face with kind brown eyes, it was the producer who had become your new friend. There was a sort of familiarity to his eyes. You lifted up the book to show the full cover: Golem, Caligari, Nosferatu; A Chronicle of German Film Fantasy.

“My husband got it for me because he knew I’d love it. And I do.”

“So you’ve seen The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari?” he asked.

“Oh yes. Old films just have a certain quality to them modern films can’t replicate.”

“I completely agree. Is it one of your favourite films at the moment?”

“It is but I really like Nosferatu, mainly because it’s an early depiction of vampires. Oh, do you know the film Shadow of the Vampire?”

“Of course, a masterpiece to honour its original film,” you nodded in agreement. “Nicolas Cage produced that film.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he grew up with all those silent films.”

“How did I not notice?”

*****

It was the end of the working week and you and Dieter did not have to get up early the next day, so you indulged in tonight. Dieter was putting his heart and soul into every kiss. He’d been looking forward to this and slowly kissed down your neck. You were running your fingers through his hair, but suddenly, as your mind cleared, a forgotten thought entered your mind. You knew it would occupy until you found out, so you gently pushed your husband off you. Rolling off you in confusion, he watched as you left the bedroom. He quietly padded his way through the house, where he found you looking through your DVD collection.

“Honey cakes, what are you doing?”

“I just remembered something that I need to look up. My brain won’t shut up until I do.”

He sighed sympathetically, “I’ll turn the TV on.”

You followed him with your Shadow of the Vampire DVD. You pressed play and stared intently as the opening credits played. You paused when you found what you were looking for.

“There!”

Dieter squinted at the screen, “Nic Cage produced this?”

“Yeah I only just found out. I don’t know why I didn’t notice this before.”

“No one really pays attention to opening credits.”

“That’s true. Until they point out that there were clues hidden like in Malignant.”

He kissed your forehead, “That’s what trivia pages are for. Is your head feeling good?” You nodded. “Would you like me to give you some now?”

“I’m sorry I interrupted us before.”

“No need to apologise. We’ll just back to what we started,” he started nuzzling your neck.

“I just need to…”

“You put away the DVD and I’ll turn the TV off.”

*****

It was the start of a new week, and everyone was back to work, and the children were happy to be back with their friends again.

Once again, Dieter found you deep in conversation with the film’s producer. He wasn’t jealous. Why would he be? He had occasional immersive conversations with his wife but not lately. You were both working on the same film so you’ve both been so busy with that and dealing with a toddler. The two of you were still intimate but Dieter still felt like something was missing when he saw you talking with such animation in your whole expression. It’s not like he wanted to punch the man in the face, but he liked thinking about it.

You were once again deep in conversation when you saw Dieter approaching the two of you.

“Oh, hey Dieter. Have you met the producer?”

He held out his hand, Dieter reluctantly took it.

“Hi, I’m Javi Gutierrez.”

~

Yes, that’s right! Javi is now part of the Love of Horror Universe! To find out what he’s been doing, check out @cevans-is-classic because they have this story!

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @glshmbl @cupcakehp @gswizzsstuff @nicolethered @blueeyesatnight @wannab-urs @meveispunk @morallyinept @djarinsimp

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #dieter x honey cakes #love of horror fanfic #love of horror universe #love of horror #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #the bubble netflix #the bubble

[sunkissedlucida]

beautiful boy

Miles Quaritch x baby! Miles Socorro x deceased! Reader

— Life has lost its color to Quaritch since your recent passing. He continues to mourn over the loss while raising his infant son. But one night and a John Lennon song later, he feels a little more hopeful for the future.

A/N: Been simping for this man longer than I knew what love was. Guess I'm adding another fandom to my list!

Miles wakes up in the middle of the night. Flood lights of the base peek through the slightly open curtains. The starry night sky of Pandora remains visible during early hours like this. He looks over to the crib beside the bed, where he sees his baby boy fussing and crying.

"Shh," says Miles, still half-awake. "You're okay."

He sits up with a grunt. He walks over to the crib and reaches out to hold his son. The baby squirms and wails under his hold, reaching for comfort.

You were always a light sleeper, so you would usually wake up before him when the baby cried. You'd comfort him better than the colonel could. But now you're gone, leaving your husband half of what he once was. One of the few people keeping Miles together is your one-year-old son, who is also his namesake. Your little miracle and greatest joy.

The baby's diaper needs changing, so Miles puts him back down to get a new pair. His hands are shaking from exhaustion, but he manages to change the diaper without much struggle. Afterward, his son's cries diminish to whimpers and sniffling. Miles carries him and walks over to the couch. He sits down, sighing at no sight of tissues on the coffee table. He moves his hand under his shirt and uses the fabric to wipe the snot off his son's nose. If you were here, you'd be complaining about how he couldn't just look for one in the cabinets you painstakingly organized. What he'd give to hear you again.

It's been months since your death, and nothing has changed for the better to him. The world stops turning whenever the baby cries, and he can barely bring himself to eat. With his wife gone, it feels like he's not doing anything right anymore. It's simply harder to get through the day.

Miles looks down at the little one. "What's wrong, Junior? Had a nightmare?"

He looks back at his son's wide, glassy eyes. His lip quivers like he can read his father's mind. The infant nuzzles his chest with a tiny fist gripping his shirt. The sight tears his heart to shreds, knowing things can't go back to the way it was. No form of revenge against who or what killed you can bring you back. It's a lesson he learned the hard way.

"I miss her too, kid." Miles holds Junior tighter, placing kisses on his forehead.

He whispers, eyes brimming with tears, "Mommy's gone now, but I'll never let anything happen to you. Stay strong, alright?"

The child calms down and snuggles into his shoulder. Miles strokes his soft curls, closing his eyes as the two sit in silence. His calloused hands envelops his son like a blanket. Later, soft snores put his mind to rest. As his body relaxes, the tears finally stop threatening to fall.

The silence haunts him. It reminds him of how you'd fill it by playing your favorite song before bed. It is old, but it is a classic, as you would say. Miles hums the tune to himself, trying to keep the memories alive even though you're not here to show him the right notes.

"Close your eyes,

Have no fear,

The monster's gone,

He's on the run, and your daddy's here."

As he rubs the infant's back, he wonders if his son will remember that song. Will he grow up to carry the same love for music as you? Maybe one day, when he's older, he'll tell his father that you were the reason why he fell asleep every night. That the melody made him feel safe and brought him comfort. A reminder of the love that he had, and one that would always be there.

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy."

He's not sure how long he's been humming the song, but he realizes he's singing out loud. He hears the familiar lyrics coming from his throat.

The baby stirs in his arms, smiling as he snuggles closer. Miles smiles too, looking down at his son and crooning,

"Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way, it's getting better and better."

The world around him disappears. All that remains is the happiness he feels at being loved by someone he created with you. Something tells him that things are going to be okay, even if it's not now. Someday, both of them will be alright. For now and always, they have each other.

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy."

#colonel quaritch #avatar quaritch #miles quaritch #quaritch x reader #avatar #avatar movie #miles socorro #spider socorro #spider avatar #sunny writes

[bird-inacage]

LOVE IN THE AIR | Sky x Prapai Fanfiction

An Admission of Surrender

Summary: Here it is. I’m giving you all the power to hurt me. But you won’t hurt me, will you? Maybe that’s partially the reason he held onto those words for so long, because they are the final vestiges of safety he has remaining, before he’s completely given himself over, before he’s whole-heartedly and willingly surrendered himself up to be hurt all over again.

Details: Canon, based on TV series knowledge up to Ep11. No novel influence.

A/N: *NOW AVAILABLE ON MY AO3 ACCOUNT HERE* I will be continuing the post fics there. (I’d like to dedicate this to @shipsaremylifesource, @prapaiwife, @fortpeat and @moonchildridden, who have been the absolute most darling supporters, and just overall awesome, hysterical mutuals to be sharing the delirium of this pairing with. To my fellow members of the Insane & Deranged Prapaisky Victim Support Group/Comrade- in-Arms/Family).

-----------

“Aren’t you going to say it back to me?”

Sky startles, notices the slight quirk in Prapai’s brow which is laced more with bemusement rather than any serious concern, before it dawns on him that he’s been silent for more than a few minutes. His heart feels skittish in his chest, so he dodges Prapai’s eyeline in an attempt to calm the tightening sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Prapai’s fingers are lightly massaging Sky’s hand. He waits a beat before nudging, “Did you hear what I said?”

He knows Sky heard what he said. He’s teasing. As per usual.

The first time Prapai said it, had been nearly a fortnight ago. Sky had proposed to bake a cake for his family dinner that week. He never liked to show up empty-handed, and though it was never anything fancy, Plerng and Phan had been all too keen (if not overly, slightly suspiciously so) on receipt of everything he had brought with him so far. He still hadn’t decided if the siblings were simply humouring him or there was some other joke at play that he was not privy to. Prapai had insisted on helping once Sky had made the suggestion. And as a matter of fact, he had been attempting to teach Prapai how to cook as of late.

As a responsible boyfriend, Sky felt it was only right to equip Prapai with a basic means of survival, which meant venturing beyond simply frying an egg or boiling a bowl of ramen without assistance. Prapai would just cheekily retort that he had Sky didn’t he? Sky was fully aware that Prapai was unlikely to ever be in a position where he would go hungry, with significant wealth to rest on eating out for the rest of his life, but still... It had been to Sky’s immense surprise, that the request had come from the man himself.

The downside unfortunately was that the kitchen always became a war zone when collaborative cuisine was attempted, despite Sky’s futile efforts to maintain order. He blamed Prapai, obviously, as his namesake came with a tornado-like aftermath as far as cooking was concerned. Whilst Sky had dubiously handed Prapai over the task of piping cream, a healthy smattering had somehow ended up on his face. Smiling, Sky had taken a kitchen towel to Prapai’s cheek, wishing he had seen for himself how cute Prapai must have been as a kid. All lop-sided, impish grins most probably. He could only entertain his imagination, based on the baby pictures Prapai’s mother had all too enthusiastically presented to Sky on his first visit.

It was only after a minute or two that Sky realised Prapai had been uncharacteristically quiet, and was about to chide him for not listening, when he turned to find Prapai watching him in a bit of a daze, clearly having done so for quite a while.

Sky felt that now familiar and sudden rush of heat to his chest whenever Prapai caught him off guard like that. Sky immediately swiped a hand across his cheek, “Do I have something on my face?”

Prapai had continued looking at him, eyes all soft and wandering and noticeably vacant as his gaze did an excruciatingly slow once-over across Sky’s face before finding his eyes.

Sky had shifted restlessly in his seat and instead turned towards the ingredients spread across the table, deflecting in an attempt to save himself from possible humiliation. “I can’t decide whether we should go for a berry jam or maybe something less sweet like a lemon curd? What do you think? Your Mom has less of a sweet tooth, so perhaps we could even do a bit of each?”

“I love you.”

Just like that.

It took Sky a moment - a few moments before he fully registered what Prapai had said. But to his astonishment, he hadn’t felt the cold fever of panic seize him in its grasp like it used to. Something had fluttered in his stomach, a nervousness of an altogether different kind.

As much as his mind had been going into overdrive, he would never doubt Prapai’s honesty. The man was a notoriously bad liar anyway. The reason Sky was dumbstruck was not the fact that Prapai was in love with him. He'd known that for a while now. But why Prapai had chosen to say it then, when Sky was certain he was powdered in billows of flour, hair still a bit mussed from their lie-in this morning, and fashioned in an old t-shirt and apron he’d thrown on as it had been laundry day.

Sky’s apparent flustering only made the grin on Prapai’s face even wider. But to the other man’s credit, he had not dwelled on the sudden declaration, which made Sky wonder if he had heard it at all. As if to test that theory, Prapai had proceeded to say it a few more times since, each delivered at an exceptionally mundane moment where Sky had not been anticipating it at all, and every time had without fail proceeded to send Sky into a small meltdown. Sky was beginning to suspect that Prapai was purposely trying to get that reaction from him, for it seemed to delight him no end.

“You’re ignoring me again.”

Prapai tugs the hand he has hostage up to his lips and presses against the raised line where Sky cut himself with a scalpel last week. The knot in Sky’s chest soothes a fraction.

Sky’s gaze quickly sweeps across the far end of the room, to the clock sitting on the dresser. “Don’t you have a meeting this morning?”

The attempt to change topic doesn’t elude Prapai, who now knows him far too well for comfort. Prapai rolls his eyes, which Sky immediately catches. He’s definitely rubbing off on the other man, and he doesn’t like it one bit when that attitude is directed at himself. Undeterred and still punchably smug, Prapai closes the distance between them by another inch or two. His eyes are bright, an ever present hint of mischief there, “I said I love you.”

And the confession bellies Sky once again. The utter sincerity of it. How Prapai manages to say this so easily, as if he were commenting on the weather or what he ate for dinner the night before, baffles Sky. It isn’t that Sky doubts his conviction. Not in the slightest. But mostly Sky’s brain is still stuck at The Why? The Why that has been festering in his gut ever since it dawned on him that Prapai wasn’t going anywhere. The Why every time Prapai stares into his eyes like there’s nothing else that exists on this earth but him alone. The Why when Sky considers that Prapai has the means to pick anyone he wants and for some demented reason (possibly due to some serious cognitive defect), has chosen him.

He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud until he notices Prapai’s nose scrunch up slightly in that annoyingly endearing way.

“You’re asking me why I love you?” There’s an edge of admonishment in Prapai’s tone, like he’s genuinely a bit upset by the implication but quickly returns to his usual lilt of amusement, which grates because it usually means Prapai is about to make fun at his expense. “You want me to list all the reasons? Because I can if you want.”

Sky rolls onto his back and huffs.

Prapai simply follows, looming over him and takes a moment to search his face, before a smile tugs at the sides of his mouth, “I love how easily you get wound up and the way you tell me off. Because you’re usually right and I usually deserve it.” Sky shoots him a ‘oh you don’t say?’ face. “I love the really focused expression you get when you’re concentrating really hard. You’re always so engrossed in what you’re doing, you forget everything around you.” Prapai stares pointedly at Sky’s injured finger. “Sometimes even me,” which is delivered with an added pout.

“I love it when you get that ‘deer caught in highlights’ look in your eyes. Like you’re suddenly a kid again, lost and helpless and desperately searching for something - or someone”, which earns a small scoff. “It always reminds me of the night I first met you. I love the way you sneak glances at me when you think I’m not looking. It’s very sweet. It’s incredibly adorable actually. Haven’t I told you that you’re more than welcome to openly gawk at your stud of a boyfriend all you want? Why be so shy about it?”

Sky’s skin bristles with embarrassment, the telltale heat of a blush rising up his neck, and he flings a hand in Prapai’s general direction to try and halt the onslaught, “Stop.”

He hates how lovely it is when Prapai says things like this, and without any degree of hesitation. Hates how much it makes him squirm because it’s cheesy and sappy, and so bloody sentimental. But mostly he hates how much he likes it.

“I love how wickedly smart and quick you are. I love the dynamic you have with your friends, and watching you bicker with Rain. It’s welcome entertainment for both me and Payu actually. I love it when you take control, it’s extremely sexy. I love everything you cook...”

Sky’s eyes begin frantically searching around him, desperately wishing he had a dictionary or something substantially heavy within arm’s reach that he could use right now to knock his boyfriend out.

“I especially love the way you moan my name when you c—”

Sky’s eyes widen and he uses both hands to give Prapai a firm shove in the chest, “You have no shame!”

Prapai buries his face into Sky’s neck, hair fluffing in disarray as he laughs heartily into Sky’s collarbone, “Joke’s on you, you’re the one who fell for this shameless asshole”. The sound goes straight to Sky’s heart and he feels momentarily dazed, like he’s the one whose been clubbed on the back of the skull. Prapai re-emerges, rising only the few inches necessary to allow him to talk unheeded, but his weight atop Sky’s has them both breathing a little heavier than usual.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you. I just love you. I love you fiercely, madly.” Prapai’s face is surprisingly earnest all of a sudden as he lightly combs Sky’s bangs away from his face, “You have absolutely no idea just how much.”

Sky feels himself go loose and pliant like he always does when Prapai stares at him like that, like he’s delving into the depths of Sky’s very soul and seeing him laid completely bare. His eyes dart between Prapai’s eyes and lips, lulled by the comforting thud thud of Prapai’s heartbeat. His hand is drawn to sit there, right in the centre of Prapai’s chest, where he can feel the steady thrum beneath his fingers. Warm, comforting and so very alive. Something in Prapai’s eyes turn molten, the thinly veiled desire behind them drawing Sky further and further away.

A shrill ring cuts through the fog like a knife, dousing them both alert, and Prapai let’s out a low groan. No doubt his secretary calling to chase. They both eye each other for another moment longingly before it is eventually Prapai who makes a move, swiftly planting a kiss on Sky’s forehead before plucking himself out of their shared embrace.

Sky registers the pang he feels at the loss of contact, the empty space that Prapai vacates in the very air around him. He sits up, perching his chin on his knees to watch Prapai fish for a clean shirt. Sky unconsciously dips his nose against the sleeves of the top he’s currently wearing - one of Prapai’s long-sleeved whites - and lightly inhales. It smells of Prapai of course, which eases the ache in Sky’s chest slightly. It’s why he began wearing Prapai’s clothes in the first place, because it’s comforting to feel close to him in this small way. But also he just likes how Prapai’s eyes twinkle when he notices Sky wearing his clothes, and how that makes him tingle all over.

He continues to follow Prapai’s movements, making no attempt to avert his eyes as he watches the rippled muscles along his boyfriend’s back disappear beneath cotton.

“You have a workshop this evening don’t you? I’ll drive by and pick you up afterwards. We can grab something to eat together—” Prapai stills when he meets Sky’s gaze, and his eyes go instantly soft. He offers a warning tut, “don’t do that.”

Sky is aware that he’s becoming increasingly reliant on Prapai, and that growing realisation is starting to seriously hurt his pride. So accustomed he was to being independent, he now feels handicapped by that fact. He distinctly remembers the first business trip Prapai had taken once they’d started dating, and the uneasiness that prospect had stirred within him at the thought of being left behind. Prapai’s eyes had been immediately apologetic when he told him the news, hand smoothing across Sky’s cheek in an attempt to soothe, “The shortest I could bargain for was three days.”

Sky had been mortified by just how humiliatingly needy he must seem for making Prapai feel bad for doing his job. He hated the idea of being the classic, desperate, clingy boyfriend, and so he’d plastered on the best carefree smile he could manage, “Seriously, three days is nothing. As if I haven’t spent a short lifetime living alone before I met you. You should be prioritising your work or your Dad will have a go at you again. Go for as long as you need to.”

Prapai had looked at him in a way that meant Sky had not convinced him in the slightest. “I’ll call every day okay? Multiple times a day. I promise.” He had then proceeded to kiss Sky all over, and nuzzle sulkily into his neck like a small, dejected animal. The irony was not lost on Sky that Prapai appeared to have taken it much worse than he did. Though he had to eventually admit that those three days had proved to be much, much harder than Sky had initially anticipated, and as soon as Prapai had returned, he didn’t detach himself from Sky’s side for a solid week.

That little knot of worry which persistently forms in his gut every time Prapai has to leave him (even briefly), is something he recognises akin to abandonment, which he knows is silly, ridiculous even, —paranoid definitely. He’ll be back Sky.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“You stop that, now.”

Sky blinks from his spiralling reverie, “Stop what?”

“That.”

Sky nibbles into his bottom lip, “What?”

Prapai leans down and levels his gaze, something disapproving flickering across his face, “That thing you do with your eyes. I can read each and every thought in your head.” Prapai’s hand reaches out to stroke the back of Sky’s head gently as he lowers his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, remember?”

Somehow Prapai knows. He always knows.

His phone rings again, incessant and demanding, and Sky can only imagine the exasperation on his poor secretary’s face. The same expression she’d made when she had walked in on them kissing across Prapai’s desk, which Sky can safely say was wholly Prapai’s fault. It had been his idea to drag Sky along to his office, and Sky should have known better that he was not going to behave, even when in a professional setting.

Prapai hisses audibly, eyebrows raised in displeasure, which Sky responds with a wry smile, “Go.”

Prapai never expects anything from Sky. He may tease, but he'll never truly push which Sky is endlessly grateful for. He’s all too happy to offer up his heart and serve it on a platter even if Sky doesn’t ask for it. The fact that Sky has not said it back to him yet has not appeared to phase him in the slightest. And that’s the part that makes Sky feel increasingly guilty. Prapai soothes and coaxes all his jagged concerns away without expecting anything in return, and is surprisingly patient even when Sky is unable to match his pace. Worse yet, the man seems perfectly content with that, and Sky knows he has ample reason not to be.

He wants to be able to do more. Give more. But Sky is self-aware enough to recognise that he’s still a bit broken, and though he may want to, his anxieties haven’t allowed it.

It’s whilst Prapai is collecting up his scattered belongings from around the bedroom, that an urge bubbles up inside Sky like a shapeless thing that begs to be released. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about those words. Thanks to Prapai, they’ve rolled around in his head an awful lot recently, but he hasn’t been able to find a means to command their influence.

Something twisted in Sky’s gut says; what if he walks out that door and something were to happen to him and you regret not saying it? What if something were to happen to you, and you regret that he never heard it? He’s not sure exactly what type of unhealthy scenarios his mind is conjuring up to terrorise him, but the fear is all too real. Sky is no stranger to the creeping suspicion that this is all far too good to be true, and he’ll wake up soon or Prapai will come to his senses. After everything Prapai has done for him, he deserves more. Sky wants Prapai to know that he cares about him and appreciates him just as much.

As Prapai locates his jacket and car keys, he shoots Sky another one of his reluctant-to-leave-you smiles as he finally retreats towards the door, clearly dragging his heels. “Get some more sleep okay? I’ll call you later.”

Sky knows he’s exceptionally partial to sentimentality whenever Prapai has to leave, and his anxieties converge on him to act without thinking. Sky stares at that handsome, warm, loving face and feels himself overcome with affection.

It takes him a moment before he realises the three words have slipped out without prompt. Quiet. Tentative, and quite frankly a bit fumbled. As if he had only been planning to test drive the words on his tongue. Not at all as assured in tone as the same three words Prapai said to him only moments ago. Something in Sky panics, feels frantic all of a sudden. He tries to reassure himself that this is the least that Prapai deserves, to hear Sky say it back and more importantly, Sky wants to. But as much as Sky hates to admit it, it’s not so much an admission as much as a plea.

Here it is. I’m giving you all the power to hurt me. But you won’t hurt me, will you? Sky already knows the answer to that question, but it still crosses his mind like a bad omen. Maybe that’s partially the reason he held onto those words for so long, because they are the final vestiges of safety he has remaining before he’s completely given himself over, before he’s whole-heartedly and willingly surrendered himself up to be hurt all over again (despite everything he’s been through and suffered, despite his deepest, darkest fears)... After this, Prapai will well and truly have everything he possibly has to give.

He just wishes he had sounded more confident when he did eventually say it. Now he’s worrying himself stupid that it may have come across uncertain or questioning, and the last thing he wants is for Prapai to think he’s doubtful about his feelings.

Sky spots Prapai’s hand clenched round the door frame, where he had swiftly stopped himself mid-exit. Sky immediately flushes, diving back into the duvet, suddenly acutely aware of what he’s possibly done, and the havoc he may have just caused.

“You should go now, you’re already late—”

The keys in Prapai’s pocket jingle as he takes three long strides back towards the bed. Prapai’s breath is hot against his face as he presses Sky bodily back into the sheets, but not before he gathers him absolutely flush against him, and kisses him desperately on the mouth. Sky’s coherence spreads paper thin as Prapai’s hand skirts beneath the fabric of his top and along his spine to pin him closer, whilst the other tilts his jaw up to meet his eagerly. Sky’s hands curl into the fabric of Prapai’s shirt, fingers occasionally wandering into the hair on the back of Prapai’s neck, as he allows the man to completely engulf him.

When Prapai releases him momentarily, his freshly laundered shirt is a crumpled mess beyond salvation. His smile is positively beaming - everything will be alright - that boyish charm creeping in which always makes Prapai look instantly younger and sweeter than usual.

“You really—”, and it irks Sky that it takes another attempt before he’s able to find his voice again, “You really have to go now—”

“Nnn mmn, one more,” before Prapai angles in to kiss him again, and the jackass takes his sweet time. Languid and probing, it sets Sky alight. They break apart briefly to breathe before Prapai impatiently leans into him again because he’s full of shit, and once is never just once.

Sky feels scattered and light-headed when Prapai draws back just enough to allow himself access to Sky’s throat, voice slightly husky against his pulse. “Say it again. Please.”

“I jsst—”

Sky vaguely considers if Prapai may be attempting murder if he doesn’t comply, because he’s struggling to draw air or even formulate one complete thought whilst Prapai continues to assault his lips. If they don’t stop soon, there’s not a chance in hell that Prapai’s going to make that meeting or work at all.

“Again,” Prapai demands but his eyes are achingly tender.

Sky is once again winded by the sheer elation in that gaze, that he cannot possibly bring himself to deny him. So he musters his courage, takes Prapai’s face in both hands, and despite the blush he can feel colouring his cheeks, he meets those eyes evenly and steels against the sheer pounding of his own heart.

“I love you.”

There. Better.

Something in Sky seems to fall into place then. Because all the fear and worry falls away and all that’s left is him.

Prapai’s eyes are brimming with reverence, pride and adoration.

“My Sky.”

The endearment would usually make him inwardly wince with embarrassment, because if there’s something Prapai has an innate talent for, is saying the most corny, toe-curling declarations of love without so much as batting an eyelid. But right now, Sky can’t resist that all encompassing love wring him utterly boneless, weightless, senseless...

You’re mine, it says, and Sky couldn’t be happier at the declaration.

------------

I hope whoever has the patience to read this, does enjoy!

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #LITA fanfiction #love in the air fanfiction #bird-inacage pens a fic #prapaisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #canon-compliant #tv canon only - no novel knowledge #let me know what you think guys #this is a long 'un #ive already got a possible second part loosely written #prapaisky fanfiction

[classickook]

more könig headcanons

a/n: i literally cannot get this man out of my head lol i wrote this with civilian!reader in mind and it ended up getting pretty specific (flower shop au???) but i hope y’all still enjoy <3

<< prev | next >>

- idk how the two of you meet but i’m imagining a quaint little town that’s far away from any sort of battle that könig stumbles upon while on break

- let me set the scene: you work in a floral shop or market and spend most of your day planting, nurturing, and arranging a variety of flowers <3

- könig sees you one day and is immediately drawn to your kind smile and sunny aura (no wonder the flowers are so beautiful when they look upon you for sunlight and nourishment, he thinks) and finds himself a bit extremely nervous to introduce himself

- you notice him shuffling awkwardly by the door so you greet him warmly and ask if there’s something you can help him find

- i just know our gentle giant is blushing like crazy at this point; being so close to you and hearing the soft timbre of your voice has his blood pressure skyrocketing

- he shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how shaky they are and tries to act all casual but ends up accidentally knocking over an arrangement next to the door

- the poor guy is BEET RED now and wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, he’s so embarrassed :(

- he apologizes profusely and feels SO awful for ruining your pretty arrangement, he even offers to pay for it but you wave him off easily as he picks up the broken vase and crushed petals

- “don’t worry about it,” you offer kindly. “it wasn’t my best work anyway.”

- könig still feels like absolute garbage and you can clearly tell by his body language that he feels terribly uncomfortable and kinda curls into that massive body of his to appear smaller

- “did you know that the gladiolus symbolizes strength and integrity like the gladiators of their namesake?” you ask as a way to distract him from the little accident. his pale blue eyes settle on you as you continue, lightly stroking the baby soft petals of the arrangement nearby. “they kind of remind me of you, soldier. valiant and strong yet undoubtedly beautiful.”

- they also represent infatuation is what you don’t tell him, afraid to voice your immediate crush on the man who quite literally stumbled into your floral shop

- “they’re pretty,” he breathes, however, you notice his gaze is not on the flowers you’re showcasing — it’s on you

- your breath catches in your throat at the unwavering contact, stunned into silence as he cautiously reaches forward to brush his gloveless fingers across your cheek; and he’s pleased to find that the velvety-smooth sensation of your skin is incomparable to that of any petal on earth

- from there on out, könig spends most of his free time in your shop, asking about the meanings of every flower, buying a bouquet of your recommendations each day, and carefully placing them on the counter for you before he leaves

- he finally builds up the courage to ask you out, properly, to which you very quickly agree, and the two of you are inseparable after that

- you spend most of your time with him, going for walks in the park, visiting cafes in the area and laughing loudly when könig plops a fingertip of whipped cream on your nose just to lean forward and kiss the sweetness into his mouth, leaving you a blushing mess

- calls you his blümchen (little flower)

- he definitely strikes me as the type who would follow you around like a puppy and do anything you ask! könig aka sunshine/golden retriever bf we all deserve <3

- want him to carry your purse? done

- need some help around the shop? no problem

- you end up buying too much at the store and need him to hold everything for you? you got it

- someone bothering you? consider it already taken care of

- he’s basically your bodyguard and takes your safety very, very seriously; the epitome of scary boyfriend privilege right here

- this man adores you and worships the ground you walk on!!!! enamored doesn’t even begin to express his feelings for you

- literal definition of a simp

- would do anything and everything for you; i’m talking he would kill or die for you (he’s a bit dramatic but we love that about him)

- he loves holding your hand, playing with your fingers, brushing your hair as you lay on his chest ! könig goes crazy for that stuff :)

- especially loves skin-to-skin contact because he wants to get as close to you as possible; he just can’t get enough!

- as i’ve said before, this man’s love language is physical touch and he uses it as a relaxant if he’s anxious or on sensory overload

- extremely observant and can read you like a book (as can you; the two of you just get each other, ya know? match made in heaven fr)

- perfect for cuddling ! literally more comfortable than any pillow or bed, so you end up sleeping on him most of the time and he’s 100% okay with that

- könig loves having you in his arms, especially if he’s just recently come back from a mission, and it makes him so unbelievably happy that you feel safe with him :’)

- has a picture of you in his wallet that he pulls out every single night while he’s away from you on a mission. the poor photo is so wrinkled and faded from the number of times he takes it out but he refuses to throw it away even when you suggest on replacing it; he would never pass up on more pictures of you but i can guarantee he would keep all of them (scrapbook king <3)

- he’s as much of a lover as he is a fighter and i stand by that

- would never ever raise his voice at you; if the two of you get in an argument, he would simply take a breather and maybe go for a walk to clear his head before coming back to hug you and apologize and make things right

- if when he eventually proposes, i know for a fact that it would be with a family heirloom that holds a lot of history and sentimental value (because he’s sweet like that)

- he’s such a good guy, i love him to death!!!! (men all over the world: take notes)

#könig #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #call of duty fic

[arabaka]

MAAM IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT TOO!! It feels weirdly poetic for a man who is an absolute fraud and liar about having psychic powers to end up having a child with said powers because?? He’d be so good at raising that child??? I love it and the thought as rotted my brain.

YESSSSS HE'S SO GOOD-

imagine reigen getting ready for work in the morning, shaving foam still fresh on his face when he hears your voice, shrill and worried, call him from the other room, "a-arataka! come here!" he nicks himself in his rush to you, leaving a trail of lather as he runs. god, your parents were right when they told him having kids dials everything up to 100. but he gets to the room and there's... nothing wrong? nothing that he can see, you're standing there trembling but it's only when he follows the tilt of your head that he sees your child. floating.

your 4-month-old baby, still swaddled in their monkey-face blanket (a gift from his namesake), looking as peaceful as ever as he hovers in the air, closer to the ceiling than he is to any of you.

his jaw drops to the floor.

"yes, shishou?" mob's voice is a stark contrast to the frenzy going on at the other end of the line. "mob! i need you to get over here quick! shigeo's on the ceiling and- don't get on the ladder, you just had a baby!!"

#im sobbing this is ALL I AM GONNA THINK ABOUT #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mob psycho #reigen arataka #reigen #reigen x you #reigen x reader #reigen arataka x you #reigen arataka x reader #mp100 imagines #mob psycho 100 fanfic #mob psycho x reader #mob psycho 100 x reader #arataka #arataka reigen #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 📮 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ*⁀➷ ꒰ mail time! ꒱ #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 💌 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ⁀➷ ꒰ love letters to reigen! ꒱

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 Pretty when I cry

Chapter 12 of Sandstorm

A/N- I'M SO EXCITED FOR WHAT'S TO COME!!!

Warning- Sswearing, fluff, incest, violence, ANGST, death!! Dark magic and sacrifice, talks of pregnancy and THERES ALSO CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

There’s a ruined Red Keep that you stand in, two cradles stand in the middle. Snow falls through the gaps on the ceiling, this time albeit it’s slow and so life-like, the bitter breeze that swirls the snowflakes on the ground actually feels cold. Once again just before you can see the babies inside their cradles, the fire begins to grow around you, but this time it's flames actually provide heat and slightly blind your eyes.

You expect the dream to end there and then as it always does, but this time the fire lingers, you don’t abruptly wake up, the fire only grows taller almost as if trapping you inside. The heat intensifies, making you turn your head away and shield your eyes. The silence lingers thereafter and the fire's heat doesn’t change anymore, so you slowly turn your head and put your arm down, that’s when you catch a figure in the fire, it grows taller as it gets closer.

This hasn’t happened before, you never stayed this long. This is…different, something new. Is it the meaning behind this dream?

You narrow your eyes out of curiosity even if your heart is beginning to race out of fear. The figure grows taller the closer it gets, and then when it reaches the edge a shadow casts on the ground before an armored metal boot breaks out of the fire wall. Instead of stepping away even if you have nowhere to go, you stay put and watch the rest of the figure walk out of the fire, revealing herself as a slim woman with silver-gold hair; braided and bound in golden rings. Her eyes are an intense and unique pale lilac color that almost seems to burn as hot as that fire as her glare pierced in you. She shouldn't be unfamiliar but you do recognize her now as the fires light basks her intense majestic face.

It’s Queen Visenya Targaryen.

She is your namesake.

What is she doing here? In this dream? This isn’t an answer, it's only more confusion.

Yet before you can grow mad with confusion, from the corner of your eye you catch another figure emerging from the firewall at your right side. this time it’s a man, a very tall man with a thick and broad appearance, he’s built like a bull. His hair is blond, and his eyes are a deeper lilac. His gaze is as intense as the Queens, but he looks even more intimidating. And just like before, you recognize him too, he’s King Maegor Targaryen.

But why?

“What’s going on?” You ask the pair, the mother and the son.

But there’s no answer, instead a third person appears this time from your left side. It’s a woman, she’s older than the others, slimmer than Queen Visenya, she has a fair complexion and a high forehead. Her eyes aren’t the same color as the others, they’re blue. And like the others there is a name that comes to mind, Queen Alysanne Targaryen.

“What’s—” this time you don’t finish your repeated question because another figure emerges from the fire between Visenya and Alysanne, it’s smaller and the moment their face shows your face falls with disbelief and your eyes fill with tears, and your heart….that shattered thing begins to fill with joy and warmth.

“Rhaenar?” Your voice quivers.

He moves his arm away from his brown eyes and finds you in the middle of the fire circle, and instantly smiles. “Mother!” He exclaims, and before you knew it you were both running towards each other to meet with a tight embrace.

“Oh my sweet boy,” you cry and hold onto him, you draw in a deep breath and take in his scent. “My Rhaenar.” Your breath shudders.

The boy laughs softly and holds onto your neck with force.

“I’m sorry,” you interject and pull back to grab his cheeks and face him, now you notice that his face isn’t burnt, his face is okay here. His curls are so neatly formed and all over his face. “I’m sorry. I failed you, I’m so sorry.”

Rhaenar wipes your tears away and shakes his head with a sweet smile on his face. “It’s alright mother. I’m okay, I’ll be fine. Don’t cry please. I’ll always be with you.”

You shake your head and now grab onto his shoulders. “No. No I’m not ready to be without you, I need you with me in real life. Not here, not in my dreams.”

Rhaenar draws out a deep breath. “They’re not dreams really.” He scoffs. “It’s all real in a way. This place, it’s just been different for everyone, but for you, grandfather says it’s different, you’re the only one who’s seeked far enough to reach all of us. This plane.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, and your eyebrows furrow in comfuson. But the first thing you question is what he mentioned moments ago. “Grandfather?”

Rhaenar’s grin widens. “I’m not alone here mother, I have so many people here, family. But most importantly my grandfather! He’s been with me the entire time.” He nods and then looks back, when you follow his line of gaze you see the man he speaks about with so much glee, Rhaegar Targaryen, your father. He emerges from the fire too, with his long silver-gold hair, his deep blue eyes, and a faint smile on his pale face.

His presence fills you with nostalgia, familiarity, and there is a spark of joy, but that soon gets overpowered by the anger, burning fury.

“I know,” he says in that voice you’ve missed hearing sing to you. “I know you’re upset my girl, but—”

“No!” You cut him off and stand up to your feet to stride towards him. “No! You!” You sneer and point at him. “It’s your fault! It’s your fault I grew up without my mother, it’s your fault my sister and brother died!” You reach him and shove him back with that same anger. “It’s all your fault this all happened to us! To our family! You left me! You left us! You left! How could you do that?!”

Your father ducks his head out of shame and swallows thickly. “I will never forgive myself for what happened to your mother and your siblings, but it’s something I won’t regret.”

You scoff and step back.

“It had to be done. To complete the prophecy. Which it has, Jon, Daenerys, you.” He lifts his head and meets your gaze with awe. “Three heads to our dragon, my darling. We did it.”

You clench your jaw and shake your head. “At what cost?” You snap at him. “My son is gone. He’s dead! Daenerys killed him! He was only 10!” You rebuttal. “It’s true the dead are gone and I’m glad that they are, but nothing else matters anymore because so is he. So I ask what now?”

“Now you rule,” a different voice cuts in. When you snap your eyes to where it comes from you notice that it was Queen Visenya. “You will revive the Targaryen dynasty. You will take back what your father destroyed.”

You swallow thickly and rebuttal. “Daenerys rules now. Isn’t that enough? I can’t lose more, Jon, my children that have yet to be born.”

Footsteps step forward from your left side and a sweeter but still rather stern voice speaks. “You stay there in Winterfell and you’ll die too. Your children will always be a threat to her, will you see them die too?”

You snap your eyes to the left and meet Queen Alysanne’s gaze with a glare. “Like hell. I won’t lose them. But you have her, let her rule, it’s not like our family hasn’t killed their own kin before, why not her? Why me?”

“Because she killed your son,” a different voice adds from the fire.

You look towards the flames again and see a different women come out from within them, this woman had a thicker waist compared to the other two, her silver-gold hair was in a long braid as well. She was ethereal as all the others, but also intensity followed within her gaze. You knew her too, a lot quicker than the others, after all she was one of your favorites, that is before she actually ruled; Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“Because you are the one meant to restore our glory, rule like we couldn’t,” she says and begins to approach you. “If she rules, she’ll commit the same mistakes and wipe out the Targaryen name. It’s you who is meant to sit on that throne, your children shall follow, the ice and fire that our prophecy foretold. I know,” she mutters softer now. “What it is like to lose a son…but you aren’t me, use your anger, use your power, use your kindness and take what belongs to you, for your son. For all of us.”

You let out a shaky sigh, but don’t let anymore tears fall now since you’re beginning to be filled with inspiration and anger once again at the memory of what Daenerys did.

“You have a good heart my dear,” your father interjects, pulling your attention to him again. “Use it, be noble, don’t lose what you already have. Those you keep close will carry you through this, but remember to be firm, fearless, stern and unforgiving to those who truly deserve it.”

You sigh but nod. You then look at Rhaenar, but before you can speak your last words to him, a deep husky voice cuts in from your right.

“Don’t be like your father, girl,” Maegor says and begins to walk around you, as if he’s stalking you, a prey. “Don’t be foolish, and don’t live in the clouds,” he scoffs and shoots your father a dirty glare. “Use your fury, your dragon is your best friend, use your strength and power. Take care of business like me.” He stops by his mother and shoots you a malicious smirk before he looks at his mother with a smirk. “Burn her. Burn Daenerys Targaryen.”

You offer him a nod and shoot him a faint smirk before you face Rhaenar one more time. “I will always, always love you my sweet boy. I’m sorry.”

Rhaenar smiles at you and wipes away that stray tear that falls from your eye. “I love you too, mama. Tell Jon that it’s okay, that I’ll be okay, yes?”

You grin and nod. “Of course.”

He then throws his arms around you and you don’t hesitate to hug him back with all your might. You don’t close your eyes in hopes you’d stay, and it’s why you notice Queen Visenya approaching you one last time. She meets your watery gaze with an intense and burning determined glare.

“Burn your dead, mourn your losses. You are Queen now.” She mutters before the darkness quickly surrounds you at one second before you’re thrown back to the cruel reality, back to your room, back to the coldness.

At least the sun is out today, it’s light is soft but not warm since it is still dawn. It should’ve provided an ounce of happiness, but the natural light finally breaking from the clutches of the winter clouds doesn’t affect you now.

You sigh deeply and wipe your tears away before you look at the bed and find the spot next to you empty, and when you touch it you notice it’s cold, letting you know that Jon has been gone for a while. And since he is your only source of motivation to keep going right now you get up and change to go look for him.

Yet when you reach the crypts he’s not there. You walk to the gates since maybe he’s out with Rhaegal, yet you don’t want to walk all the way over to hills where the dragons are if he isn’t, so you look up and speak to the guards at their post. “Excuse me?!”

A man reaches the rail and looks down. “Princess,” he calls out in surprises and straightens up.

“Has Lord Snow passed the gates?” You ask.

The guard shakes his head. “No, but I did seem him walk towards the Godswood earlier today.”

You hum and nod. “Thank you, sir.”

The guard nods, and you then head towards the Godswood. When you arrive you see the new planted trees begin to sprout where the ashes of the olds ones once stood, leaving a clear view of all the Godswood, and Jon kneeled at the front of the Heart tree.

As to not interrupt his moment of prayer you make sure to slowly approach him, but stop by the frozen lake that’s by the red leaved tree.

Nevertheless, Jon hears your footsteps and turns around. When he notices it’s you his gaze softens for a moment before the sadness on his dark eyes returns.

“Good morrow,” he greets.

You offer a small smile. “Good morrow,” you return and meet him in the middle of the snow covered field. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Jon takes your hands and shakes his head. “I was…done already. What are you doing out here? It’s cold.” He touches your belly and smiles. “Are they giving you fuss?”

You grin and shrug. “Always, but that’s not what got me to awake up.”

Jon lips pull to a bigger smile and he scoffs softly before he drops his gaze and stares at the snow below his feet with a deep sorrowful frown that makes your sadness return, and brews curiosity.

“What is it?” You probe.

Jon lets out a deep sigh and then meets your gaze with a watery look. “I asked for forgiveness from the gods, but it’s you that I truly need to apologize to.”

You slowly knit your brows together in confusion.

“Please,” he continues with tears escaping out of his eyes. “Forgive me. I’m the reason your son is dead. I didn’t reach him in time, I didn’t get rid of the men fast enough. I’m sorry.” Jon drops to his knees and keeps holding your gaze. “I can never make up for what you lost. I’m sorry.”

Tears threaten to come out of your eyes, but you hold them back and just feel your throat sting more as you slowly get on your knees, and cup his cheeks. “What happened is not a guilt you need to carry on your shoulders Jon...” you pause and swallow back thickly. “My life will never be the same without my boy. It is true, but don’t blame yourself. He’s okay.” You muster a soft smile. “He appeared in my dreams, he said he was okay, he told me to tell you that it’s okay.”

Jon slowly grows perplexed, but he knows better now so he accepts what you say is true. “But you—”

“I’ll…heal soon, but I do know that I have nothing to forgive because I don’t blame you, nor should you blame yourself. Please.”

Jon hesitates, so you press your forehead against his and whisper.

“It’s okay, my love. It is. I need you for what’s to come.”

Jon lets out a shaky breath, and then slowly cups your cheeks and keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he stays silent. You know he won’t doubt you, or try to discourage your new plan so you don’t explain what’s on your mind, you linger in the silence and relish in the warmth that radiates from his hands, from his lips, and from his body.

You don’t linger long though since it is cold and the funeral is today. Since you don’t have the stomach to eat so much breakfast is quick, it’s the getting ready that takes time. It’s not easy for you, no matter if you did see Rhaenar in a dream, to get ready for his…funeral, to mentally get ready to say goodbye one more time. But you still do it, you let the handmaidens dress you in a white dress that is dipped in red at the bottom, so the white-beige color flows to a blood red. You let them put on light makeup and fix your silver-white hair, you put on your gold jewelry, and then before you walk out of your chambers you grab Helios from his cage.

His eyes search the room for the boy he was once bonded to, he calls out for him in soft cries that only smash those heart fragments to smaller pieces. And there’s nothing you can tell him to comfort him. Absolutely nothing because you know he also knows deep within his little heart.

“Come on,” you whisper to Helios. “Let’s go.”

Once you step out Jon is waiting outside of your shared quarters, he holds your gaze for a moment before he takes your hand to interlace it with his before you begin walking outside, past the gates, to the top of a snowy hill. People begin to part once they see you approach, the Starks and your sisters then break away from their spots behind the crowd and follow you towards the funeral pyre where Rhaenar’s body lays wrapped in a white shroud.

Time moved normally before you walked through the crowd, but once you begin to walk past the people gathered to reach the pyre time began to move slowly as your mind still tries to comprehend that this is all real. That you’re going to say goodbye to your boy forever.

Tears even fail to fall at those moments you walk forward, even when you reach him your tears don’t break out from your eyes, no. Even if your heart sinks and a shaky breath escapes from your chest, you don’t cry. Instead you let Jon’s hand go and place Helios on Rhaenar’s chest one more time.

The dragon knows, he knew the moment Rhaenar drew his last breath that he was gone and they’d never see each other again. But the dragon like you held onto hope. It’s why Helios crawled to Rhaenar’s neck and sniffed him before he began to nudge his jaw so he’d wake up.

You knew you were being foolish, but you waited for a response. When it doesn’t come and Helios lets out a broken whine, is when you can’t hold back anymore and let a sob escape from your mouth.

Eraxis feeling your sorrow, cries out and fills the silent air with her melancholy song. Helios follows and sings about his own grief, and Rhaegal then joins them too and all three dragons fill the winter air with their sorrow filled songs.

You then drop your forehead on Rhaenar’s and clutch onto his shoulders, you cry and cry until you can’t breathe properly, until you can’t even stand. That’s when Eraxis leans her head forward and tries to wrap her neck around you for comfort and support. It startles some people from the crowd, after all, all they knew about dragons was that they’re fierce, not that they were also comforting and filled with many complex emotions. It got those who weren’t crying already, to shed tears for a boy they hardly knew.

And it was thanks to your dragon's comfort that you were ready, so you scoop up Helios, and as Eraxis raises her head in the sky you turn and walk down the pyre to hand Arya the orange dragon. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “He won’t harm you.”

Arya pulls the dragon back towards her and holds him fearlessly and with slight pride. Now, as you face Rhaenar again, you take Jon’s hand again and lift your chin to sniffle before you part your lips. Yet you can’t muster the word, only sobs.

“It’s okay,” Jon whispers and begins to rub your back. “Take your time.”

Your bottom lip wobbles, and your chest begins to feel tighter and heavier to the point you can’t breathe anymore, you turn to Jon and bury your face in his chest. He quickly wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head as he caresses your back softly.

“May he soar the skies in paradise,” Jon interjects. “May he rest and find peace, may he watch over his family. I’m sorry Rhaenar…”

A moment longer passes before you can face the pyre, before you can part your lips and mutter out the right words that tore at your heart. “Dracarys.”

The white dragon draws in a deep breath before she opens her mouth and breathes out fire, bathing the pyre and Rhaenar in her hot and bright red-orange flames.

You stand there in front of the fire, you bask in its heat and let more tears fall out before the anger returns, before that burning fury begins to boil your blood again, bringing back that dream you just had and everything that was said, especially those venomous words spoken by Maegor; “Burn her. Burn Daenerys Targaryen.”

You won’t hold onto hope for your rekindling anymore, you won’t ask for forgiveness. You’ll seek revenge and what truly belongs to you.

Which is why you slowly turn and face the crowd still gathered in front of the pyre. You meet the gaze of Jon before you face them all with a scowl. “I was asked to fight for the throne by all of you,” you interject loud enough so they can all hear. “I declined out of hope, and a dream that I would know a peaceful life and receive Daenerys forgiveness for my future, for the future I carry within me. But now, after she took what I held so dear in my heart, my first born. Now she will know my wrath, and I hope you all can follow me in my path to the throne. It will be another war, devastating no doubt, but once it is done we will finally know peace because she is just like those that came before her, a tyrant lost in her way.” You sigh, but muster a malicious smirk.

“I hope you all follow me. For my son, for you, for me.” You finish.

And thus, without hesitation the crowd begins to cheer, shouting out only one phrase. “Queen Y/N!”

——

*DAENERYS. KING’S LANDING*

A knock raps on her door, echoing in the tense silence that filled her quarters.

“Come in,” she welcomes the visitor, hoping it was successful news of the ambush. Waiting for the news has been keeping her on edge, she could hardly sleep, or keep in one place, she needed to know.

“My Queen,” a familiar voice she hasn’t heard in a long time cuts through the silence.

Daenerys turns quickly on her heels and comes face to face with Daario Naharis, a man she had left long ago in Meereen to enforce peace, a man who’s appearance hasn’t changed, and someone who she can’t deny is happy to see. After all he is one of few who hasn’t betrayed her, he’s remained loyal even after she broke his heart.

“Why wasn’t I advised you arrived?” She responds with a quirked brow and a faint smirk playing on her lips as he doesn’t fail to make her body ignite with lust.

Daario smirks wider and pulls his hand from behind him to show her the wildflowers he held in his hand. “I came on a faster ship apart from the others because I wanted to surprise you.”

Daenerys hums and watches the man slowly begin to approach her.

“I’ve brought these,” he says and pushes the flowers towards her.

Daenerys breaks away from her spot to slowly walk towards him, stopping just before she can reach him to let him get close to her instead. He offers her the flowers and she hesitantly takes them from his hand to then raise her chin and hold his warm gaze.

“I would just like to say that you look even more beautiful than before,” he adds. “The crown suits you.”

Daenerys places the flowers down on the table beside her and crosses her arms over chest to now press him with her gaze alone.

“Ah,” he says and clasps his hand behind him. “Right. The ambush happened, yet I’m disappointed to say that Lord Snow managed to escape with a couple of his men. The ship burned, most of his men aboard died, and a boy traveling with them perished in the fire.”

Daenerys blinks and furrows her eyebrows. “A boy?” She queries.

Daario nods. “Yes, I’m not sure who, but Lord Snow made great effort to take his body.”

Daenerys lips slowly begin to fall, and her arms slowly unfold from her chest as a name begins to circle her mind.

“Were there dragons in the sky?” She asks him with her gaze begining to narrow.

Daario nods. “Yes. The creatures burned our ship and helped them escape. There was three of them, a white one, Rhaegal, and a small orange one.”

Daenerys swallows thickly and turns around abruptly to look out at the gloomy white sky, and sighs deeply as sorrow begins to stab at her heart and pain fills her mind.

“What is it?” Daario instantly asks and takes a step towards her.

“Wheres Greyworm?” She avoids his question.

“I let him take a second break so I could deliver the news to you personally.”

Such a radiant boy he was, young prince Rhaenar. Regardless of the tension that existed towards the end of the relationship between you and Daenerys, he never was rude to her, he was kind and caring. No matter how short of time she had with the boy, she still cared for him because he was family, and now he’s gone and you're heartbroken.

And she can’t cling onto the hope that the dead boy is someone else, why else would Jon be so desperate to the take the body, why else would Helios be with Jon. Helios is a small dragon still very much attached to who he’s bound to, that dead boy is Rhaenar.

“That boy who perished,” Daenerys mutters and approaches her window with tears clouding her eyes. “Was the son of my niece. It was y/n’s son. How did it come to be? I said just kill Jon and the men he was with.” She stops and exhales deeply before she turns to face him.

Daario stays in his spot and shrugs. “I can’t be certain. You know how battles are? Unpredictable. All I know is that a fire started on the ship. It was an accident.”

Daenerys scoffs and shakes her head. “She won’t see it that way. No one on her side will. If she was ready to make peace before, now we can forget about that, especially with Sansa whispering in her ear.” Daenerys clasps her hands in front of her and drops her head.

“You sit on the throne now,” Daario interjects and steps forward. “They’ll follow you.”

Daenerys snaps her head up to face him. “No,” she snaps. “They won’t. The Reach will rally behind her because of what she gave them, and the future commitment that once bonded them. We can’t even count or try and sway Dorne, even dead they’ll never follow another king or queen that isn’t her or descended from her bloodline.” Daenerys turns and approaches the balcony to gaze out at the city below.

“The Vale of Arryn will follow her because of Sansa, meaning the North is also supporting her,” Daenerys continues to tell Daario. “And the Riverlands…they’ll follow the Starks, making for Five great houses rallying behind her, leaving us with two, the Westerlands if I keep Tyrion alive, and the Stormlands...” she pauses and sighs deeply. “That is if I make our commitment periment with a marriage proposal to the new Warden.”

“And so you shall have it,” he assures her with no argument, and finally closes the gap between them to grab her shoulder and turn her to face him. “You have a fleet, more men. And a dragon experienced in war. You can win this, you only lose if you give up, and I know you’ll fight with fire and blood before that happens.”

Daenerys holds his gaze and hums, feeling relieved that she once again had someone she can trust and talk to.

“We’ll get to work right away, fortifying the walls, whipping the men to shape, and making alliances.” Daarios continues to assure her. “No one will take that throne from you.”

——

*WINTERFELL*

Jon’s voice echoes out from the hall, his words are passionate you know they are because he gives good speeches, but right now his words just don’t register in your mind, all that you can think about is Rhaenar, the new future that you are now paving with this choice. Anger still fuels you and it's what’s pushing you, whilst that motivation after seeing your father and ancestors burns in your veins, waking up something that was dorement before, determination to take what’s yours once and for all.

It’s why you don’t frown, you don’t express sadness in your eyes either as Dornish guards make a path and line up across from each other all the way to the end of the hall where Jon, and the maester awaits with your crown. It’s that burning determination, and that grief that brings you pride as you stand at the end of the lined up guards, with your head up high.

Horns begin to play inside after Jon finishes his speech, letting you finally break away from your spot and create a footprint on the sheet of snow as you begin to stride ahead in between the guards.

The blades they hold above your head begin to fall when you pass them, leaving them to see only your back and the tail of your red dress. When you step inside the warm hall, slowly the people viewing your coronation kneel as you walk past them.

Being here was something you never dreamed about, at least you always thought you’d stand on the platform waiting for your husband to get crowned. Now that you’re here though, now that you see all the people kneel, as you see the guards metal blades glistening against the firelight, you can’t help but smile inside. And the moment you take Jon’s hand as you reach the platform a faint smile finally forms on your lips.

Jon mirrors your gesture and then leans forward to press a kiss on your cheek before he shifts to the side and helps you to your knees. Once you’re secured he moves to the side and lets the maester step forward.

“May the Warrior give her courage,” his voice booms throughout the hall before he daps oil on your forehead. “May the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield,” he continues and adds more oil on your forehead with each saying. “May the Father defend her in her need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom.” With that last saying instead of oil he dabs blood on your forehead by your request as a sign of your goals, battles to come, and revenge.

When the maester finishes he turns to set the bowls down to instead grab a golden crown forged partly by the gold jewelry that Rhaenar owned so you’ll always carry him with you through this journey as Queen. The maester then turns with the shining gold crown in hand, causing the red shining rubies that are decorated around the crown to twinkle against the firelight. As he lifts the crown you see two small winged dragons holding the red ruby at the center. The moment he places the crown on your head you feel the heavy weight fall on your head, bringing some discomfort.

“Let the Seven bear witness, Visenya Targaryen second of her name is the true heir to the iron Throne,” the Maester adds, causing the crowd behind you to quietly agree.

After that is over Jon leans over and offers his hand, you gladly take it and let him help you to your feet. He then quickly lets you go and kneels before you. It catches you off guard for a second, but you have to remember that you are Queen now and it’s going to happen more often.

Alas, Jon then stands up and drifts his gaze to the crowd. “All hail her grace!” He exclaims. “Visenya, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm!”

You draw out a small breath and turn, catching the crowd and the guards kneel. You drift your gaze to the right front row and see Elia and Sarella kneel, Sansa curtsy whilst Arya kneels too. You then look to the left front row and see Ser Jaime kneel, Ser Brienne and her ward kneel, Ser Davos takes goes down too, and then as on cue, Eraxis fills the silence and air with her prideful roar, making you finally smirk.

“Long live the Queen!” Elia is the first to exclaim.

“Long live the Queen!” Ser Jaime follows before everyone inside repeats those words as they get up and clap.

Those who carry swords lift their blades in the air and shout. “Queen Y/N!”

Those words fill your ears and bring happy tears to your eyes as you tug your lips to a smile. When you sit on the wooden chair that was placed on the platform more people cheer, and Ser Brienne approaches the stairs that lead to the platform. She gets on one knee and meets your gaze.

You throw your hand out to silence the crowd, and they don’t fail to listen, letting Ser Brienne speak.

“I swear toward the Queen,” she interjects in a loud confident voice. “With all my strength, and give my blood for hers. I shall take no husband, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side and defend her name and honor.”

Chills travel down your spine, and a soft smile tugs on your lips. You rise up again and bow your head, letting her stand.

“I appreciate your loyalty and devotion, Ser Brienne. I’d trust no one else but you to be my Lord Commander of the Queensguard.”

Ser Brienne breath draws in a small breath and can’t help her proud smile at the mention of the title you just bestowed upon her.

“I leave it to your judgment to choose the other six who should join the Queensgard. When you have chosen the right people you may bring them to me.” You let her know.

Ser Brienne nods in comprehension and stands back up to return to her spot, leaving you to address the crowd to give them an announcement. “Every ruler needs their most trusted advisor at their side, a friend to confide in. A hand when one’s pair is full. Someone who is not afraid to hide their thoughts or pass judgment. There are many here that I trust to be that with me, but there’s one person who I know won’t fail me, Lady Sansa Stark.”

It was a choice that you had discussed before, and one she took with the condition that when this war is over, and if it is you who sits on the throne then she would step down to be Warden and Lady of the North.

“Lady Sansa, I name you hand of the Queen.” You finish saying, making said person head to the front to kneel. You then turn and grab the pin from Jon to walk towards his sister and hook the golden pin on her chest.

The crowd makes commotion in support of the choice.

“You honor me, Queen Y/N,” Sansa says and stands back on her feet.

You offer her a smile and watch her return to her spot so you can continue to announce to the people who else will be a part of your court. “Now with these battles to come I trust no one else to be my Master of War but my dear husband, and your King Consort, Jon snow.”

At the announcement of both new titles the crowd cheers for Jon, while you look over at him and grin. He breaks away from his spot to stand before you and bow his head. Your smile widens, and you’re filled with glee as you get to finally reveal your gift.

“Arya,” you call out and meet her dark gaze. “If you may please.”

Jon looks back at his sister in confusion and follows her every move as she makes her way to you. You fill with more joy and excitement as she reaches into her sack and pulls out a silver crown that looks similar to yours, but is a bit thinner, and has a golden dragon and a golden wolf holding a ruby at the center.

“Now,” you continue and take the crown from Arya. “I know that you aren’t one to be so flashy, and you’d be content without one, but it is gift from me to you.”

Jon holds your gaze and sighs softly, but he can’t help his faint smile before he kneels, letting you carefully place the crown on his head.

“There,” you say and clasps your hands before you. “Handsome.”

Jon scoffs softly and then stands back up to fall back at your side, letting you continue so you can finally finish and announce your master of whisperers, Bran Stark of course, and lastly your Master of coin Lord Ben Ashfords son, the heir of the Reach, Bernard Ashford. As to the other positions well, you still have yet to fill. Hopefully you’ll get to find the right people soon.

With that said you turn away and head to a different chamber where you will have your first small council meeting that consists of your sisters, Jon, Ser Brienne, Sansa and her siblings, and Ser Jaime.

“You know you did not have to get me this,” Jon breaks his silence as he walks by your side to the meeting quarters. “This crown is not necessary.”

You glance at him and smile. “You are my King Consort, my love, a King needs his crown.”

“I would’ve been fine with a ring,” he counters, making you giggle for the first time since Rhaenar passed.

“I told you,” you retort and hook your arm around his. “It’s a gift. You don’t need to wear it all the time, I just wanted you to have one.”

Jon meets your gaze and hums softly before his gaze softens. “You need to rest, you’ve been on your feet for far too long.”

You roll your head to the side and draw out a deep breath. “Yes, perhaps I should, but there are meetings to be had now. You know this isn’t easy. But for your comfort after this meeting is over we can retreat to our chambers and take a warm bath together, hm?”

Jon nods softly in agreement. “Sounds like a plan,” he assures you. “Not like I could actually refuse you now. You are the Queen.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Don’t start with me Jon.” You chuckle softly, causing Jon to watch you with a soft and admiring gaze and smile since he likes the look of your smile and the sound of your laugh after seeing how much you’ve been suffering.

Yet it is short lived since that sweet look on your face fades away, and gets replaced by a sad confident look when you all enter the meeting quarters.

Now the burden falls on you, after so much that your family did to try and get you on that throne, and after trying to avoid the burden, you wear the crown now and lead thousands. Now rather than listening on the sidelines you sit at the center and have all eyes on you.

“Thank you all for coming,” you address the group as they find their seats around the table. “You’ll have to pardon me for the next couple of meetings. As much as I have studied I still am not used to ruling,” you huff softly and clasps your hands together.

The people around the table don’t say anything to you so let out a deep sigh and continue.

“Let’s get to business then. I know not so long ago I turned down Ser Jaime’s requests of retrieving his brother from the clutches of Daenerys, but now with the sides being drawn, the Westerlands are left undecided. The Lannister’s may not be a strong house, but their name still holds much value, having both men at our side can benefit us. So,” you say and look at Jaime sitting in the middle.

“Ser Jaime, I grant your leave. You won’t have men though, it will attract too much unwanted attention.”

Ser Jaime’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you begin to smirk. “Sarella,” you name, causing the woman to straighten up. “Arya, you are clever, discreet and able to hide well. Will you accompany Ser Jaime to smuggle his brother out?”

Sarella without a fault nods. “Of course, sister.” She assures you, letting you shift your gaze to Arya. And when your eyes land on her a small smirk tugs on her lips.

“I will,” Arya agrees. “Thank you, Queen y/n.”

You offer her a smile and a small nod.

“Excuse me, your Grace,” Lord Royce cuts in. “The plan is great and all, the Westerlands may not be the largest land, but they are the richest. It will benefit us well, but with sides set, and Daenerys with a patch of new soldiers, entering the city will be difficult.”

You nod and can’t help your smirk from widening. “Yes. I know. It’s why while the three of them enter the Red Keep, I will lead a distraction.”

The members of the council all share confused and concerned looks at the mention so you explain your plan, and assure their worry. “It won’t be a big army, there won’t even be men, the distraction will consist of only women. I unfortunately won’t join the battle at the ground, I cannot,” you scoff and reach down to caress your swollen belly. “I’ll be in the skies with Jon, while the women go in pretending to seek refuge and help from Daenerys. Her army will come out and provide assistance, they won’t suspect such brutal attacks from women,” you begin to smirk smugly. “They’ll think of them as weak, fragile. That’s when the army women will strike, I will go in later and burn what remains of the small army. After that Jon and I will lead them out before more men can come.”

“If it pleases your grace,” Ser Brienne interjects as she takes a step forward so you can see her. “I would like to lead the attack on the ground in your stead.”

You catch the disbelieved stare of Lord Royce, but you have faith in her; just because she isn’t like every other typical woman doesn’t mean a thing. It’s sad that men here don’t see such a thing.

“Of course you can, Ser Brienne, the army will consist of Dornish women warriors and northern women who volunteer. Any other woman from the other armies of different houses can also join if they please, but we need to keep the numbers small.”

“Understood,” Ser Brienne agrees.

You drift your gaze back to the other members. “We will make that our first attack after the lords pledge their loyalty. With that said, Sansa, what can we expect from the Riverlands?”

Sansa raises her head and parts her lips. “My mother was a Tully. Our uncle still lives and rules now in my grandfathers stead. I expect we will gain their allegiance, but I think we should still go in person and ask.”

You nod. “Alright. We can go after our first attack, that way Daenerys doesn’t get word of our attempts until after. What about the Stormlands?”

“Given Daenerys gave the Stormlands to Gendry and declared him a legitimate Baratheon,” Jon interjects. “I doubt we can count on his allegiance.”

“But the boy doesn’t know a thing about ruling a kingdom or people,” Jaime argues. “Nor does he have the right connections.”

“But he has the Baratheon name now, he may be a bastard but some people will follow his family name,” Ser Davos defends the man. “Surely the staff at the castle would help.”

“I assume not long, any lord could usurp him,” Jaime counters. “We can use that to our advantage.”

“Aye,” Lord Royce agrees.

You look over at Sansa and ask her a question. “Could we send an envoy to any of the other lords?”

Sansa sighs. “We could, but we have to think about the risks, if Gendry bends the knee it would benefit Daenerys to strengthen the alliance with a marriage. She’d burn any rebellion attempts. We have other kingdoms that take priority if it comes down to a battle .”

“We could get rid of Lord Gendry,” you suggest. “That breaks the alliance—but also turns the Stormlands against us.”

“Then we leave them,” Jon adds. “As far as resources, it’s only fighters they provide. We have the numbers, we don’t need them. If a lord reaches out to us then we can think of a plan, until then we count them as traitors.”

“Anyone disagree?” You ask without trying to argue Jon’s suggestion.

The people around the table shake their heads in disagreement, letting you continue on. “ Bran, do you know anything?” You ask the quiet boy.

Bran nods stiffly. “Only confirmation that Daenerys plans to marry Lord Gendry. As soon as he arrives at the capital.”

Just as Sansa mentioned.

“Smart girl,” you comment. “With the Stormlands off the table, we also can’t count on the Iron Islands. With luck we will gain the Westerlands and the Riverlands.” You let out a small breath and then continue. “Anything else someone would like to discuss?”

Everyone looks around, but no one adds anything, thankfully leading this meeting to an end for today.

“Alright, well you all are dismissed, thank you for attending.”

Everyone disperses out of the room, and you wait for them all to leave before you can. However, Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime, Jon and your sisters linger behind.

“Excuse me, your Grace,” Brienne directs and bows her head as she addresses you. “But is it okay if I take my leave for today? I would like to start finding the other members for the Queensguard.”

Right that.

“Of course uh, Sarella, Elia,” you call out. “May you introduce Ser Brienne to some of the commanding officers of the Dornish army. There are some great fighters there you can choose from.”

“Yes!” Elia exclaims all too excitedly. “I would love to go.”

Of course she would, she likes to gawk and flirt with the men.

Regardless, they leave but Ser Jaime stays behind still. He takes a moment before he says anything, first he slowly makes his way towards your chair before he finally reveals his thoughts.

“I know I have probably said this, but, thank you. You have been too kind, more than I deserve. You have given me a second chance, and it’s one I don’t deserve and one I will live my life repaying. So thank you, Queen Y/N.” He reaches for his sword and then kneels with his hands on his pommel. “My sword is yours, my Queen. I may not be a great fighter anymore, but I have experience that can be just as valuable. I want to serve you.”

You share a small glance with Jon before you stand on your feet. “Then you shall. I need all the help I can get. And I value your thoughts, Ser Jaime. Just promise that when you see me straying from my moral path that you will help rather than betraying me. Remind me of the people I fight for because some rulers tend to forget who really keeps them in power.”

The corner of Jaime’s lips tug upward before he nods in agreement. “I will. I swear.”

“Great. Then if Jon wants you can help him with the armies. You may also help train the soldiers.”

Jaime gets to his feet and accepts before finally leaving Jon and you alone.

“Now,” Jon says and take your hand. “Can I have you to myself?”

You grab onto his arm and drop your head on his shoulder. “Please, I beg you.”

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

With the anger fueling through your blood, with fury clouding your mind, sleep was impossible, that hunger for revenge kept you awake and raised a desire in you for something to be done. Something that you haven’t touched in a long time, dark magic.

Rhaenar was your son, he was your little boy, and Daenerys took him, she will pay with blood, you will rip everything she has ever loved from her hands so she can feel what it is you feel.

So while the castle is sleeping, while no one can interrupt you, you use the chambers where Daenerys had stayed in to conduct a spell.

“Did you bring it?” You ask Sarella.

Sarella nods and unhooks her cloak to show the small baby in her hands.

You trusted no one else but them, besides the others would only judge you for this dark magic. Elia and Sarella won’t.

“It’s sick,” she mentions. “Mother dead, father drunk and with no love for this child.”

You nod stiffly and take the blade from the flames, and watch as the metal gleams red and orange with how hot it is.

“A dragon will never compare to the love you have for your own children. I want her to feel that love, that joy when she holds her child in her arms for the first time. I want to see her care for that child so much more than her own life so she feels an ounce of what I feel.” You sneer to the flames. “Blood for blood. Son for a son.” You glare at the flames and clench your jaw.

You then turn to grab the bowl off the floor, but just before you can you come to a sudden stop as you swear you see Rhaenar’s face in the flames, you swear you see his sweet brown eyes. And a small frown on his face. It’s only for a second, but you swear you do.

“I’ll use my blood that connects us,” you mutter and put the bowl over the fire. You then put your palm in front of you and use the sharp edge of the blade to cut a slash on your palm.

The pain stings and burns, but you just clench your jaw and keep quiet as the blood begins to spill out of the cut. After the slash is made you put the blade down and put your hand over the fire and fist your hand to make the blood pour over the bowl.

“Now, Elia give it to me,” you interject and put your uninjured hand out.

Without hesitation the girl comes to you and hands you a brush. One Daenerys had left behind when she left Winterfell.

“Now I’ll use her hair to connect this spell to her.” You add and pull the strands of hair off the brush and throw it in the bowl. “Now,” you sigh deeply and feel some hesitance and regret. But your pain is much deeper, so you turn regardless, and Sarella hands you the sickly baby.

“The sacrifice to complete this spell,” you continue and pick up the knife from the floor. You swallow thickly and without thinking deeper into what you’re going to do you slice.

The blood trickles out so you push it towards the fire and let the thick scarlet liquid spill over the bowl. Once the bowl is full you hand the lifeless body back to Sarella. “Feed it to the dragons.” You tell her.

“Now it’s time to finish.” You put the blade down, and put your arms out, you close your eyes and lift your head to begin chanting the needed spell in High Valyrian.

At first you start off quiet, but you get louder and louder, whilst the fire suddenly enrages and sends off sparks and thick smoke as it engulfs the bowl and what it contains inside.

The heat intensifies, bringing sweat to break out on your face, making the dress stick to your skin. The fire's light brightens, making Elia and Sarella shield their eyes.

But the act doesn’t last long, it then ends and the heat and brightness fades back to what it was before. Now nothing remains in the bowl anymore. Now the spell is complete.

“There,” you let your sisters know. “She’s barren no longer. She’ll have a child now and fear my pain. Soon she’ll pay. Son for a son.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Now do you guys think Daenerys will have a child with Daario? Or one with Gendry?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie e @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarsslut @stargaryenx x

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfic #got fanfiction #game of thrones #chapter 12 #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #daenerys targaryen #daario naharis #jaime lannister #ser brienne #visenya targaryen #maegor the cruel #rhaegar targaryen #Sansa stark #Arya stark

[bi-animated]

The Patakis Week Day 2!

I’m honestly so proud of this one, I just finished it today so I can post it in time. (I really don’t wanna fall behind like Inktober ☠️)

Following the prompts, here is the scenario:

Arnold and Helga are volunteering at PS 118 for their summer program that is essentially just a glorified baby sitting gig, which is why they’re letting high schoolers do it in the first place. We all know why Helga took the job, and it has nothing to do with kids. So when a young student in her cluster, Daisy May*, becomes overly attached, Helga exploits Daisy’s love of pudding. Arnold has been watching Helga too, and notices that she’s up to her old tricks. “You can’t just sit the kid in a corner with a pudding cup, how is she going to learn?”

“That’s how Bob did it and I turned out fine”

“Okay Helga, just be big enough to clean the mess”

*Fun fact: Daisy May is the name of the love interest in Lil Abner, where Arnold’s pet pig gets his namesake. Daisy May pursues the main character even though he shows no interest. It’s a Helga-ception.(credit to my bf for that)

One thing that I LOVE about Helga is her tenacity to break the rules (law😝) for the sake of her personal mission. Since it’s just a blurb for a picture, I didn’t get too detailed with the plot but I’d like to think that Helga was getting up to something Football related 😏

I wanted her face to look frustrated for being caught out, but also totally elated that Arnold was paying attention to her 😍

@opthepatakis

————————

Since I’m using my Tumblr as more of an “art diary”, I’d like to include some more info behind what went into this piece:

Much like Inktober, I’m using this challenge to learn more about Procreate, experiment with brushes and figure out what’s “right” for me.

To be frank, it has been a mildly frustrating experience internally because I already know that my weakness is color. Digital painting and traditional are just not the same, they don’t work the same (to me anyway). The interface of Procreate is so different from Photoshop too, finding and remembering to use tools isn’t a simple transition, either. It makes me self conscious of my art, even though I’ve gone to art school, and it throws me off to have to stop and Google stuff. But! I think with this piece, I’m FINALLY in a good groove of how I want my art to look and how to get there.

TLDR; I cry bc the lesson I refuse to learn is that you never stop learning 🙃

PS - skipping Patakis Week Day 3 to put the amount of effort and time that I want to put into Day 4’s prompt, however, I’ll still post something fun! 💜

#shortaki #procreate #thepatakisweek #commissions open #fanart #fan art #nicktoons #nickelodeon #hey arnold #hey arnold! #helga pataki #the patakis week #90s #90s cartoons #cartoon #romcom #school #fan fic #teen #comic art