#Violet gets a pass because she was born into it

[its-actually-minicika]

Dragon Sickness

Part 2;

Pairing: Bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader;

Warnings: No usage of Y/N, bookcanon Greens, potential spoilers for Fire&Blood (but not really), dubious consent, allusions to sex, to male masturbation and oral from Aemond (female receiving - he just wants to tickle your pickle with his fingers and mouth but yk), slight angst, minor and major character death, vague descriptions of death by asphyxiation;

For the sake of keeping characters as close to canon as I can, the eye that Aemond lost was his right, not his left!

Word Count: 7k+;

Author's Note: Repost because yeah...

Reblogs would be really appreciated, since I believe I was shadowbanned :") ♡

Sorry for taking so long with getting this next part out ♡ I wanted to make sure it's perfect (or as close to perfect as I can get it), because the last thing I desire is to post something I'm not proud of/I wouldn't personally read :")

This gif was made by the love of my life and the moon to my sun - @aemondx here on Tumbr ♡ if you aren't already following her, definitely follow her right now now. I'll wait. The story will wait. She is absolutely amazing, and the sweetest person ever.

I also dedicate this chapter to my literal soulmate @diamantesprincess , who beta-read this whole shit-storm for me, and supported my insane antics ♡

Young girls dream about their wedding day. And women prepare themselves for the humiliation bestowed upon them by the night.

Her cheeks flushed with the expectancy that was thrown before her – the avid sting that prickled her skin, flooded her veins and broke her soul. She could feel her smooth-green gown stick to her contorted form. The horrid fires of lashing out already licking at the corners of her downturned mouth.

The Velaryon thus swallowed thickly, whilst flickering her eyes by nigh to each corner of the squaring table. She needn’t glance into the silver plating to ensure what she had known, simply owed to the salacious heat that downed her heart in poisoned terror. How vexing it had been for her to hear the former Queen about – darting to her wedding night, hinting at her lack of purity. How terribly uncertain she’d felt, when Aemond all but abandoned her on that rueful and exerting night.

She’d searched feverishly for his company, trying to converse with him, to allude him to take interest, to inspire him to like her. But her attempts were answered with indifference, with clumsy lines of conversations, which never led her far in musings.

“– Even so, I trust that you understand your duty.”

She couldn’t have been quiet for long. For she felt how her mouth lulled opened, if only to blurt out a passive admission to Alicent’s extended words. Still she felt the decades pass, turning her old, and mean, and cold, as an ample flood of pain engulfed her sparring and incisive heart. The Queen Dowager sighed, either by lack of blitheness or by wry exhaustion, and merely shook her head at the sight of the conflicted bastard.

She supposed she should be grateful – for a private bedding brought across no prying eyes upon her form, upon her skin and womanhood; upon the shame she would soon feel, to spread her legs for the Qybor who slayed her kin. But a private bedding meant she'd have to be alone with him. A private bedding was unsafe, for it meant her maiden blood wouldn't have to be the one staining their rivetting sheets. And Aemond had killed men before, his flesh and blood, innocent spawn – so was there anything that would ensure he wouldn't cut her very throat?

A silent tear obscured her view, and one of Helaena’s beetles boldly flew nearby her plate.

Satin green and oryx white, silky blue and striking violet.

To be born a female was a wright cursed account.

Upon her birth, she belonged to her father. And when he died, she fitted Daemon. She suited to her brother, Jace, to the whims of the New Seven, and very soon to those of Aemond.

To be born a female stripped one of all crass autonomy.

When she was young, her Septa was the one to tell her the story of her cursed birth – how she was good and quaint and quiet, how she had not ensued hard labour. How her mother cried when she saw her small and portly face. And how she sighed with great relief at the notion of her naked sex.

Benevolence was to be found within the weakness of a poor female.

‘The girls are easier than the boys,’ The woman nodded as she spoke, ‘They're less rowdy and quick to anger. Easier to marry, too.’

To be born a female meant a deconstructive marriage. Simply something that must happen, not a matter of debate.

To be born a female meant fantasizing about that marriage. Salaciously filling your head with hopeful dreams of charming knights, or handsome princes and comely lords.

To be born a female was underestimated work. Work put up by sons and fathers, whose sole purpose of providing to the girl was to find her a well-suited husband.

A future to be well decided, set in stone and judged quite harshly – all in valour of a missing cock, and a lack of tiny stones.

When Rhaenyra married Daemon, she was happy for her loving mother.

‘I want to be just as beautiful on my wedding day!’ Her voice chirped through the halls of Dragonstone, whilst rotating about the room, chased by an ongoing Jace, ‘We’ll have a pigeon cake the size of a young hatchling, and a venue bigger than that made of the smallfolk of King’s Landing!’

‘Maybe one that smells better, though,’ Jace snickered inside her ear, earning a brisk tickle from his younger sister, ‘But you’re right, it’s better to stay realistic!’

A loud fit of giggles erupted from the waiting children. Rhaenyra only glanced at Daemon, who in turn shook his head, bemused by her swallowing visions.

‘Whatever prompts you to even believe your mother and I will allow such a thing?’ The Rogue Prince graced her with a trumping smirk, as the girl’s face fell in a childish and pathetic slouch.

‘I’ll have to get married one day!’ She rebutted her stepfather, ‘With a strong knight in shining armour, or a chivalrous Lord from an important House!’

‘There will be yet some time before that happens, sweet girl.’ Rhaenyra grinned at her daughter’s eagerness, pushing down the bittersweet feeling that gnawed beneath her bludgeon gown. She placed her hand atop her cheek and gingerly grazed the youth’s plumpness with a soft, motherly touch. ‘A couple of years from now on, at best!’ She hummed into her tender caress and opened her mouth to speak again, but Jacaerys’ mellow voice cut the base of her dream short.

‘I would be very careful with what I want,’ He mimicked a serious and grieving tone, ‘So far you could only marry Tyland Lannister or Kermit Tully!’

Her eyes widened to the size of two round plates, and the young Velaryon merely scrunched her nose up in dissatisfaction. ‘Kermit wouldn’t be that bad…’ She tried to reason with herself, ‘And his sister, Celia, is very nice! We would get along quite well.’

‘Of course, of course –’ Jace nodded in understanding, before throwing Luke a mischievous look, ‘Or you could always marry Aemond – he’d be quite a match, you know!”

Silence ensued for a while, until all three children broke down in their hysteric fits of laughter.

‘Oh, Gods be good…!’ She murmured lowly, shock and aversion evident on her once impatient face.

She’d found herself someone who loved her, someone whom she could amply trust. A man that’d be reliant for her, in her times of greatest fraught.

When the War of Ravens first ensued, it was he and her small brothers who went to deliver envoys. When Luke died, it was he who mended and arranged the curdling scheme of Blood and Cheese. And when Aemond took a hold of Harrenhal, cruelly burning at their allies’ lands… it was he who gave his life in an attempt to free their folk.

“Gods be good…!” Her voice strained through the musings of her handmaiden, so preoccupied with lacing up her constricting and excessive corset. “Could you go in any tighter?” Her snapping question deterred the young girl to remove her calloused hands from the fine silks that engulfed her. All of the other women who tended to her hair and eyes took a backwards convoluted step and, as if whipped across the face and wholly burnt by dragon fire, they froze up in minute poses – all of them gripping their hands, and looking down in taught submission.

Breathless and submerged in bashness, her reddened lips pressed to a line, as her gaze followed their in suit, falling on the stone below her.

“I’m sorry,” She began with a taut pitch, while expelling one of her brisk and tantalising breaths, “I didn’t mean to shout at you. That was below any level of discretion.”

"W-Would you like us to continue, Your Grace?" One of the older-looking wenches dared to ask the fair Velaryon.

No, she ached to bring herself to say, I'd stay like this, still half-undressed. Unpresentable for him to take.

"Of course," Her meek voice echoed in reply, "You must make haste to get me ready. The wedding is in but an hour."

Tens of dozen of pairs of hands flooded her every sensation with their ceaseless and insistent prodding. The softest of the cluster played with the slicked ends of her charcoal hair, adorning it with a myriad of pins and jewels, grazing her scalp with heavy and relenting hairstyles. Now there was prudence in her tying corset – as if she were a rabid beast who’d sink her claws into their necks, if only she’d feel indisposed by their way of picked-up working.

For the first time since her ladies swarmed into her darkened chamber, the girl’s leer settled on the gown before her. She took in a quick breath through the margins of her teeth, whilst feeling her stomach wail and churn with an unkept overzeal.

Her dress was of a deep set black, which seemed more fitting for a funeral than for a joyous feast precarred soon after by a most imposing wedding. Yet upon a closer look, the brims which laced its puffy bottoms smiled to her in rueful red.

Surprise etched upon her face, and the coy women must have noticed, for they all stopped forthwith again. She brought a hand to the light fabric, and grazed it slowly with her fingers.

She almost hummed in chasmal worry, before fixating her eyes away.

“Apologies, but who told you to bring this dress?” Her voice reverberated with a faint but levelled question, and a retort came back her way.

“The Prince Aemond, Your Grace,” What she assumed was a slight seamstress replied for the whole gathering, “He requested that his vest should also bear your House’s symbols.”

Surprise merged with upheld amusement, until her judgement simmered down to a least lenient of views – since the Blacks were there no more, what point was there for an exorbant gown with any shades of ghastly Green?

No matter his good-hearted message, Aemond hadn’t done it for her. Just like Alicent hadn’t proposed a marriage with her son for her clemented and invested sake.

Her family was dead. All she knew had gone with them – swallowed wholly by the sea, or by Sunfyre, by Vhagar.

There was no more point for her to wear his sickly green. There was no reason for the usurpers to display their endless rows of utter power.

“I see,” Her vocal cords strained with her roughened and perturbed reply, “It’s very beautiful,” She whispered not a heartbeat later, as she turned to the appraised seamstress, “Thank you. You must have worked very hard.”

As everyone resumed their tasks, a trailing truth pierced through her heart – she now had no family left to lead her to the Greater Sept.

His collar fell too tight on him.

He noticed late, as she approached him.

He swallowed thickly once before her, as his burnt brother gripped her hand.

Her softened smile lit up her face, though the disgust within her eyes unveiled her sickly mild facade. A rattled thought surged through his chest, mending with akin distraught. He knew full well she didn’t love him, but at the least, he’d have to try. The subtlety of her rejection stabbed right through his nervous gut, but still the Prince looked down upon her, gracing her with a half-smile.

The ease with which she then returned it relieved the throbbing underneath his leather patch, and as she mouthed him her timid greeting, the man bowed deeply in reply.

“You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection.” The Septon’s voice instructed deeply, snapping both out of their trance.

His calloused fingers unclasped the belts from his broad and heaving shoulders – the cape fell heavily into his hands, yet Aemond still approached his Lady, and placed the Targaryen embroidered mantle atop her tense and fragile shoulders.

Brown eyes clashed with an unnerving lilac – both bride and groom sucked in a breath, and yet refused to look away.

The silence of the Sept was deadly, and as Aemond closed his eye, allowing his relentless thoughts to slip into a hurried prayer, he swore that every witness to their union would hear the keen beats of his heart.

The High Septon clasped his wrinkled hands together, drawing a faint and muffled noise which reverberated through the clearing – signalling to the lost children to place their hands into the other’s.

His Lady was the first to reach him. Shyly she grazed his palm with the smooth padding of her index finger, flattering an anxious probe which distilled his wilted heart, and brought heat into his cheeks.

Her small diversion urged him to press back into her – with a doubting and reserved caress made with his thicker middle finger.

The man bit into his inner cheek, as he aligned his palm to hers, and waited patiently for the Septon to bind their hands with the white linen.

“In sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity.”

Her thumb gently caressed his own in an attempt to soothe his breaths. Though her smile had broadened yet, her eyebrows twisted to a brazen furrow. The old man hummed with unturned patience, and he nodded at their leisured and unhurried movements.

“Look upon each other and say the words.”

His chest tightened with unruly pride, as her cheeks flushed with a deep colour, which grew to match the lacings of her fitted cobbler – both took a moment to compose themselves, before Aemond’s voice filled the room with the silk-smooth baritone of his levelled and protruding tone.

“Father, Smith, Warrior,” His lone orb swirled with both uncertainty and desire, as her own voice ushered him suit, “Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

Her chest heaved with a weighty exhale, and her pushed bosom shifted in her dainty dress. Abashed by his sexual intrusion, Aemond focused his left eye on the shape of her inviting lips.

Though they said the words in unison, only her better half beset his ears, “I am his, and he is mine.”

“From this day, until the end of my days,” The Targaryen hushed in return.

Thousand of cheers erupted in the Great Sept, and Aegon even whistled lowly, but nought of the crowd’s boastful words engrained themselves into his mind.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

His mouth pressed hungrily against her own, with a force and desperation that dispersed her every hope for a chaste, intimate peck. The shape of his lips moulded against her with an ease that left her wanting – wanting for it to end, for him to stop, for him to keep going.

His scent invaded her diluted senses, and flashes of her brothers’ faces danced across her hazy view. And just as Aemond was about to deepen and take his uncouth ministrations further, the greying Septon interjected with a subtle but alluding cough.

Despite the fact that he refused to speak to her since the incursive night of their engagement, the palpable need and excitement that seemingly had gathered in him burst for all high lords and petty maidens to see. Coveting whispers reached the girl’s reddened ears – each muttered truth more beguiling than the last.

‘A Kinslayer and a bastard… what an ill match for the grandeur of the Great Sept.’

With her mouth slightly agape and her breath still somewhat staggered, the former Velaryon avoided his stare, with an adamant and willful steer.

Her own eyes began to water. And the aching sadness that curled into her vrying soul muted out any reminder of the crowd’s elated boasts.

What had happened was now irreversible; and the Greens would host a banquet in honour of the newlyweds. Goblets would drown her violent sorrows, food would fill them like fattened-up pigs for cutting.

Aemond would breach her with his cock if he felt disposed to do it. Then he might smother her face, or cut her throat with the same dagger that he used on her late brother.

For why else would he deny a prim and proper bedding ceremony?

Though her eyes still looked at him, and a smile still spurred her lips, the girl swallowed down a prayer.

Perhaps he had grown to like her. She’d been good to him in those past weeks.

The High Septon yelled over the cheering crowd, cutting down each thought that breached through her weary and misguided mind.

“Let it be known that they are now one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder!”

Then cursed be she, in the light of the Seven.

The dizzying nature of the fifth waltz of the night left everyone in the Great Hall drained and panting – fully taken by the mistifying anticipation caused by the encapsulating ardour of Prince Aemond’s wedding reception. Roaring applauses erupted from the few women seated at the high tables – Aegon’s eyes followed the wanton skirts of the lowborn maidens, and even Helaena disregarded her fattened caterpillar to grace the crowd with her absent-minded stare.

At the centre of the King’s table stood the Court’s styled “star-crossed lovers”, each seemingly preoccupied with avoiding any further dancing at any and all occuring costs.

The girl’s fingers traced over the rim of the wine goblet, glancing from time to time at her newly acquired husband, who seemed hammered in his seat and not at all wanting for chatter. The dim lighting of the candled room sprawled its shadows all across his tired features, which loomed all the more sharp and perusing with each notion of a passing hour. His lack of joyful disposition was clear and evident for all to see – for even his contented mother had chastised him under her breath.

Alas, any notion of stability had at large been long repressed, and not even her able chirping managed to pry at her son’s attention.

As her eyes trailed lower yet, over the arch of his broad chest, and the poignant veins of his clenched fist, the Targaryen gasped at the obvious arousal restrained in his black leather pants. Her face turned promptly to the side, before anyone’s conviction should follow her indiscreet trail.

Another smile graced her red lips, as a very drunkened Lord tripped across her narrow view. He approached her with bemusing boldness, borne out of believed renown, and introduced himself as Quince Webber: a lower lord within the Reach, ‘right across the Arbour seat’. His puffy face was basked in red, an indication of his mind’s plied state – and as he blabbered on his woven lapses on what wedded life should be, the Lady bowed her head with grace, thus managing to stop his spiel.

He slurred over his predicted wordings in a heavy and relentless breath, but still managed to congratulate the twain for their well-thought-out alliance.

“Thank you, my Lord, I am indeed very lucky.” Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but still she forced herself to laugh, “Aemond has been very kind to me.” She turned to face his stare, abashed, and allowed her hand to touch him. The charcoal leather of his broidered vest burnt her at the faintest touch, and the girl had to stifle a gasp at the arid heat which charred her palm.

“He has, he has!” The lord of Coldmoat agreed well-pleased. A wolfish grin spread across his droopy face, pulling both his plump cheeks higher. An impish laugh beleft his lips, as he took a swing of liquor from a nearby empty glass.

The corner of her smiling eye darted back to that of Aemond, who merely glanced through the drunk lord with a horriedly vexated look.

“Although,” He teased them with a slurred hic, “I can’t say he’ll be nice to you when the bedding ceremony will ensue!”

Wholeheartedly amused at his inappropriate and shrivelled joke, the old man began to laugh, much to Aemond’s disarray.

His fists came into contact with the sprawled-out wooden table, shaking every cutlery which remained scattered across it. The lively whispering of the Great Hall ceased with his vicious display, and even his contented brother jerked his shoulders in dismay.

“Aemond,” Alicent spat out his name, as her face turned cold and wary. “Perhaps it’s time you two retire.”

A restless snarl etched from his throat, and he looked ready to pounce – were it not for the soft hand that touched him, and the sanity utter of her voice, which managed to somewhat reground him, and contort poor Webber’s choice.

But as cruel fate would weave and have it, another end would spend their night.

“Aemond,” His Lady tried to coax him in, “Let’s listen to your mother… please?” Her fevered eyes adamantly searched for his, until a strange yearning and passion registered on his reluctant face. His hand gripped hers in pure devotion, and his large thumb ran over her flaring knuckles, as she'd done so many times before for him.

The lord’s lost face painted over with uncouth excitement, and he turned his back around, almost hitting Daeron’s face.

“It’s time for the bedding ceremony!” He announced the crowd quite loudly, and tens of voices of plastered men rose with every passing second. Some of them swarmed close to the couple, some tried to pick the girl from her leering resting place. Most barely launched up their feet, struggling to uphold their balance.

“There will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” Aemond’s dark and frigid voice thundered through the cluttered hall. Women sighed in great relief, while the men and boys began to bicker.

“It’s tradition!”

“I’ve been told specifically that it would take place.”

“Such stupidity!”

“I bet Renly six gold dragons that –”

“The King long announced there would be none.” Otto’s otherwise calm voice resounded with a harshened tone.

“Has he now?” A slurring lord took three wide steps in the direction of the pressured lady. Her whole face morphed into preleened discomfort, as she placed both her hands upfront. “Oh, don’t you even think about it…!” She warned him with a throaty hiss, but before his hand could graze her, Aemond grabbed his arching fists.

When his nervous gaze settled on his face, he smiled.

The lord clawed at his darkened neck, for Aemond forced him in a kneeling stance, and wrapped his hands around his throat. The timber in his chilling voice rained affront with his obduring malice, sending a shiver down the bent spines of the mere on-watchers, “You wish to gaze upon my wife tonight, Lord Ashford?” The callous ends of his slim digits dug into his purple skin, “You want to see her naked form, and compare her dripping sex to your own wife’s loosened cunny?”

The older man opened his mouth – but the pressure on his wielded neck impedimented his speaking manner and, much like a fish that’d been hoisted out of water, he could barely form a word.

“N…No-n-no – I’m s-s-”

“You’re sorry?” His eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. His wails of anguish pierced his heart – and yet his grip didn't uncurl. “You’re sorry now, are you?”

“Aemond, that is enough!” Alicent’s chastising shouts failed to break his unsound trance. Among the mistifying flock of ladies, the Velaryon stood high, but frozen. Her parlous specks of deep brown eyes bore into the shocking scene, as her own transfigured hand prodded at her covered neck.

"You've heard, perhaps, what happened with little Luke Strong, the bastard.” Her own eyes widened at his cruel retorts, and her deft fist grabbed at her skirts. Despite it being aimed to scare the stupid and unbashful lord, Aemond’s dicey did nought else but expose her to the whole crowd whole.

The heated blade of loss and ire impaled her through her aching chest, cutting both her breath and temper and deterring her to simply shake.

“– I'll gouge your eyes out and present them as a wedding gift to my wife."

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon.

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn.

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

“I-I’m b– begging you–”

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon –

“Then beg. Beg my wife for her forgiveness.”

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn –

“My L– My Lady, p-please…!”

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

Mother, mother, mother, mother –

“Please, Aemond, stop! Just stop!” Her own voice screeched into the balling clearing, as the sound of breaking bones and the smell of copper blood menged right through her very veins. “Stop. It’s enough. It’s alright. I’m alright. Please–”

Her panicked breathing flooded her ears. Her lack of presence drowned her in.

Her husband threw her an affrighted look, as he instantly let go of the man’s entwisted neck.

He crawled closer to his own wife’s feet. His piqued-up breathing staggered for a brief momentum.

For two or three seconds they waited.

And then quietness enwrapped the Realm.

Her honeyed voice had reached his ears.

"We're man and wife now, you and I.” She began with a faint murmur, and a small smile on her lips, “We must start talking to each other. Eventually, I mean."

She spoke to him in utter earnest, despite her voice’s nervous edge.

Alas he must not have replied to her, for her body shifted in her narrow seat, ducking away from him in recluded and uptight tension. “I’d like there to be no secrets between us – I’d like for us to tell each other whatever happens to be on our mind.”

The alluring scent of her dark hair, the creamy skin of her bare shoulders…

His breathing turned close to erratic, as he morphed his hands to fists. But two waltzes he had danced with her, before he felt his breeches tighten, bringing forth his quaint undoing.

He would have stayed in bitter silence, focused on the passing hours – were it not for the unlucky words that the brittle lord had uttered.

Oh, and how she looked into his eye; full of shock and brittle terror.

She must have been scared of him. For she was shaking like a leaf.

The walk to their marital chamber loomed with ever-pressing silence.

If only he could read her thoughts – then he might just mend his error.

“I rather liked the pigeon pie.” Her voice came out as weak and gruff, “Though it was far too big for those at present.”

When his answer wouldn’t beckon, the Lady turned and closed her eyes. She snapped her head in his direction, faltering her present smile. “I think that what you did was very chivalrous and brave, my Prince.”

The corner of his left eye widened, as her words registered in. The margins of her flimsy skirts kissed the ground atop her form – the swish and flicker of the candles remained the only source of noise.

The corners of his mouth bent slightly, at her ludicrous but fair assertion. Whether he had meant to thank her, or kiss her on that very spot, the Prince failed to puzzle out. Though his step halted in place, and his face turned briskly to her.

“Aemond,” He sighed, reluctant, whilst awaiting for her change of heart, “You said it yourself, we’re man and wife. You should start calling me Aemond.”

Her daring eyes looked up right through him, dissolving to a kindred stare. “Then you should also use my name… Aemond.” She uttered with a playful tone, testing his name upon her lips. “Though I… much prefer it when you call me ‘wife’.”

His reply was fast, forthright, “I’ll call you whatever you wish.”

“Then…” She began with a weak mutter, allowing her hair to hide her face, “No, forgive me, never mind.”

“Tell me,” He commanded with grave urgency.

Tell me of anything and I will make it yours.

“Mayhaps,” His Lady paused a while again, “You’d agree to call me your ‘dear wife’?”

His cock twitched inside his pants. The blood that pigmented his face descended lower in its lax pursuit.

All that you need do is ask.

“Anything you want,” His voice rumbled in a breathless timber before he could stop himself, “Dear wife.”

She must have thanked him with a smile again. All she did those days was smile.

She smiled when that low lord approached her. She smiled at her engagement feast. She smiled when Aemond took her dancing.

“I trust,” Alicent had swallowed deeply, “That your mother already taught you what’ll occur after the wedding.”

Better said during the bedding. When she’d be forced to spread her legs for the one man who’d damned them all.

She smiled when Aegon named her bastard. She smiled at the mention of her sweet dead brother.

She hummed as she touched her fingers, rotating her golden rings.

“What of Aly Blackwood?” Her eyes pried at her heavy conscience, “You said that if I marry Aemond, you’d think of a way to release her and make peace with Benjicot’s House.”

–

Her trail of thought was pulled before her, like a feeble dream which she won't reach.

The handle of a leaden door was yanked, pulsing the quaint hall with clatter, and basking her with a warm light.

“We’re here.”

Though wailing dread flooded her senses, her voice came out in slight bemusement.

“It isn’t furnished.”

“I wanted you to have a say.” The depthness of his mellow tune carried out his crass remark, “I didn’t know how many dresses you’d have.”

The notion of her moving in, of sleeping side by side with him, of sharing a bed and a mattress and a bath with him – it hadn’t failed to make her snort.

Hidden from his plane of sight, she allowed a distant scowl to break in her pretty features.

She wanted to scream and shout. To lash out in grave disconcern the moment his revolting hands came in contact with her lower back, urging her to step inside. She wanted to laugh at him – at the sight of his scarred face, his forceful probe and lack of honour.

“You’re so thoughtful, Aemond. Thank you.”

A grave unease surged in her gut. Pure fright prickled at the apex of her thighs. Her once loose dress seemed to constrict her form from running – from hitting him over the head and at last make her escape.

A pained sigh escaped his lips – the One-Eyed Prince who killed her family.

The Kinslayer. The Trident’s Terror. The Prince Protector of the Realm.

Almost as if he could sense her worry, the lithe Targaryen beckoned her in.

There’d been a moment when he only looked at her, bearing holes into her face and the front lobe of her skull, as his thick brows twisted slightly, jarring in misguided silence. Her jaw clenched involuntarily, as his face hithered in closer. She closed her eyes for two, three seconds, before she opened them again.

The lack of ease with which he gawped at her would have dearly made her laugh. The great and feared Aemond Targaryen, so incursed, taken aback.

He exhaled deeply in connived frustration, and simply took a few steps back. A rumbled hum of welting havoc trailed behind his high-arched lips, and a simple look of ardour was engraved on his sharp face.

The hands which had been snaked around her let her go within an instant, and as a curse sprung from his throat, the man found refuge and retreat towards the blazing fireplace. The girl followed his lenient steps, which faltered near the goatskin armchair.

His hands moved in accord with stress. Stiffly he had poured himself a hefty glass of liquid courage – swallowing it down with haste, and indifference towards the spectacle that he made with his demeanour.

His hands were shaking. His gulps of dark and bitter wine accentuated with every guise of stolen looks he dared to throw and hatch her way. At one point through his fretful jitter, the Prince snapped with a scorned hiss.

"Do you reckon you need help with your black dress, my dearest wife?” The rattled edge within his voice echoed through the room's long walls – his tone was mystified by pain, by torturous need, and want, and lust.

"N-No, my love, that I do not." She tried with shear to reach her lacings, as her mouth quirked with a smile. The desolation in her orbs spun the man to heave a sigh – his wobbled hand to reach his collar, and pull at it with forced renown.

Multitudes of scattered feelings reveled on her softened face – pain and fear, disgust and anger, lack of confidence and broad distress.

Inch by inch she thus revealed patches of her creamy skin. Feeling all her fingers stiffen with perturbed stilling discomfort, shame and angst and staid mistrust.

Although her corset was now loosened, the source of air within her lungs remained scarce and all the same.

She maintained his carnal stare, watching how his one eye darkened, turning to an opaque black. His lips pressed into a line, his furrowed brows deepened his stare – he gulped another hoist of wine and swallowed thickly at her chaffing stare. His adam's apple bobbed up and down in repressed bewilderment and apt surrender. His weary mind surged with a vast contrast of thoughts, each one more torturous and sparse than the mentioned fleeting latter.

He felt utterly inadequate.

He'd touched and fucked women before – handmaidens that caught his eye, wenches that offered their heat, servant girls who lured him in.

But none had managed to prepare him for the unrelieved pressure of her. Of the one woman he loved, of the one he wanted most.

She'd been kind to him when they were children – and remained polite throughout when he dared to rain his anger on his ludicrous half-sister.

He regretted every hostile instance where he hurt her with his words. And every bite full of prone venom, that he threw her brothers' way.

He regretted how he acted, when he killed the raucous lord. How he taunted him with perverse pleasure, how he named Luke's shocking perish right across from his sweet wife – knowing somewhere all too well that she'd take offence to it.

His face felt numb, his limbs felt heavy. He wanted to denude her slowly, to prode at the extended nature of her smooth and nuanced skin. To devote himself to her fair pleasure, to worship the slickness of her womanhood with a reverence and love perturbed.

He longed to lay his masculinity at the altar of her maidenhood, get on his knees and devout his being to making her peak with him – on his tongue, on his slim fingers, on his chin, or on his face.

He’d read the ways to get a cunt wet – it would take no less good skill and incredible amounts of patience; but for her, he’d gladly wait, and gently stretch her virgin hole, with the aid of his firm touch and the pulsing of his deepened voice.

He closed his eye in a small prayer, as he begged his Gods for guidance – to be able to bring her to the heightened cliffs of sinful rapture, to be able to prove himself as a man fit for her needs.

To make her love him in return, perhaps, and make her see his side of things.

As he remained hammered in place, trying his hardest to regain control over his trembled conscious and his indulgent thoughts, the man failed to notice how his Lady made impressive progress into her methodical and empty musings.

Her head hung low as she undid the lacings of her fitted garment. Her eyes were cast in shadowed doubt and in utter lack of certainty – her breathing came as fast and laboured, and her hands with-held a tremor with every new poignant display of another patch of skin.

Unbeknownst even to her, hot tears of merciless aversion rolled off her rosy cheeks, landing on her petticoat and the cold stone ground below them.

The Prince sucked a jarring breath, as she turned to face the bed with a heartbreaking and crushed compliance. Her softened eyes peered at his form, and a forceful smile unfurled along the corners of her swollen lips.

His expression must have tightened, and his form recoil in slightly – for her hazy eyes enwrapped him, and her shapely brow rose up.

“Aemond…?” She tried to lace her voice with sweetness, “Do you–” The latter words died on her lips, and she remained with her mouth parted, until her thoughts surged loudly clear.

“Should I… d-do you want me to sit in any way?”

The hoarseness in her tender voice made the man pale in disgrace.

“You’re scared of me.” He long admitted, with a rough and neutral tone.

Aemond’s feet carried him slowly, towards the place in which she stood. When his hand came to rest over her wet cheek, she stiffened up and almost winced.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” The desperation in his utter broke the silence of their spacious room, “I would never hurt you. I would sooner die than see you in pain.”

Realisation settled in, and her lost face morphed with awareness. She brought her palm smooth on his own, and searched despairingly to entwine their hands together. When she opened her mouth to speak, she blinked away her forming tears.

“No, my P– Aemond. I could never be afraid of you.”

“Yet here you stand,” He murmured weakly, “Half-naked before me, and shaking.”

“The chamber just feels very cold.” His wife hung onto the excuse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – I swear to you that I do want this –”

“I will not bed you.” He hummed as he wiped off her tears – a soft and feeble grazing led about by the callous ends of his smooth pads.

Her face breached forward with mistrust, as her weary mouth lulled open, “W-What? No, Aemond, believe me, I–”

“I will not bed you,” The Prince repeated to her gently, “Not until you ask me to.”

A disgruntled and affronted sigh left the high arch of his lips, yet an understanding look rained across his lustful stare. The one hand which hung loosely by his side trailed a slow path to her jolting shoulder. He swallowed thickly before speaking, pushing down his burning desire.

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr." The meek admission in High Valyrian made her relax into his touch, "Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon."

The Prince staggered with a shaky breath, whilst looking her into the eye. "Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?"

Although she tried so hard to speak, not a word etched from her throat. She nodded in undisplayed wonder, and gripped her husband by the shirt.

He took her balling fists in his, and kissed atop the even skin.

Thoughts strengthened with affirmed abhorrence steered clear through her befuddled mind – there may be hope to fix the error that she so tactlessly set off that night.

And yet before she could place Aemond’s hands down the shape of her small back, the Prince grabbed his sharpened knife, and merely nicked his open palm.

Droplets of deep-crimson liquid seeped into the whitened sheets, and the girl remained upright and frozen, as she watched him clean his blade and rummage through his modest cupboard for a piece of airy cloth.

With one hand he gripped the footboard – and began to firmly shove it into the stone wall up ahead.

The avid creaking of the bed turned into a pleased refrain. One not too fast, but not too slow, which carried on for a few minutes.

Outside their petulant and guarded door, whistles of men and cheers from women crassly seeped into their ears. Though most were muffled down by the sensitive and leal guards, some managed to blurt out half-enthused encouragements upon their midnight escapades.

A flow of compliments descended upon Aemond’s lasting pace – and some of the more improper ladies even dared to coo at her.

“It’ll feel better once you give it time, sweetling!”

“You simply must confine in us what it was like to ride a dragon!”

How utterly humiliating.

Like all bad things within the world, their idle and unseemly chatter ceased after a little while. Aemond sighed and stopped his motions, while granting her a knowing look.

“I’ll remain here for mere more moments. Then I’ll leave you for the night.”

‘N-No!” Her eyes widened in mistrust, as she gnawed her bottom lip. Almost too soon for her own well liking, she’d begged incessantly for him to stay. “Please remain near me, sweet husband… I so long to sleep by you.”

When her words seemed to elude him, she reached for his wounded hand, giving it a slight caress. She pressed her lips atop his cut, and devotedly looked up at him.

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr."

Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and merely settled on the bed.

“As you wish, my darling wife.”

Translations:

"Qybor" = uncle - specifically, from the mother's side;

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr. Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon. Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?" = 'Tis you who commands me here. I will not do anything that leaves you frightened. Why can’t you see that?

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr." = You said that I command you here. I order that you stay with me.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #house of the dragon #yandere aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #bookcanon aemond #dark aemond #dark aemond fanfic #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond x niece reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x strong reader #house of the dragon slowburn #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd aemond #hotd aegon #hotd alicent #fire and blood #fire and blood fanfic #dragon sickness

[anyonewannasteponme]

Summary: Your Uncle Aegon enjoys sneaking into your room at night and making you his. Especially after you’ve misbehaved. (Also Helaena and Aemond are married because I say so)

Warnings: Incest, Explicit Sexual Content, Impact Play, Slight Non-Con

Authors Note: I want to preface by saying that I haven’t watched House of The Dragon yet so if I write Aegon a little out of character take that into consideration please this is far from perfect I just wanted to write something for fun. I just want a horrible man to ruin me <3

Your stomach was in knots, an acute feeling of dread had been plaguing you ever since you had stormed off from the disastrous family dinner. You felt awful, your Grandsire had only been trying to achieve one thing between your Mother and Brothers and Alicent Hightower and her boys. Unity. And it had been going well, until conversation had been shifted to Luke and Jaces legitimacy due to your Uncle Aemond’s unfathomable pride. Strong boys, he had called them knowing exactly what open wound to poke and prod.

Sure enough after Aemond slipped in the strong comment he and Jace were fighting. Helaena had let out a gasp as her husband got a punch to the jaw, one he rightfully deserved in the moment. You’d left shortly after, stormed out you supposed, you were furious. Unlike your brothers you had Targaryen features, like your brothers you were very much a bastard. It was just easier for everyone to pretend that you werent. You could pass as a true born Targaryen with your gleaming violet eyes and silver hair. Luke and Jace had a much harder time than yourself and you wished with all your heart that you could save them from the cruelties of the court. What had really wound you up was Aegon. The way he had slammed your brother down against the table unflinchingly had you fuming. How he could share your bed, yet insult your whole identity was a mystery.

A sharp rap on your door signalled his arrival. You knew from the brief few second pause between the previous violent knocks before a string of more followed more aggressive than the last that Aegon was at the door. “I do not wish to see you right now Uncle.” You whisper shouted, aware that if someone heard you refuse his entrance they’d likely try and send you to the dungeons. “I dont give two shits.” Aegon slurred, slamming on the door frame, the wooden piece rattling in its hinges. You muttered a variety of unladylike words in your head when you observed your sheer nightgown. Nipples slightly pebbling through the fabric. You were in no way ready to receive visitors. Especially not when you knew Aegon was already in a foul mood.

You opened the door wearily. Aegon barged in, his blond hair was ruffled, signalling his feverishness. “I saw you staring at him.” He barked suddenly, you jolted backwards, surprised but not shocked at his incapability to process your own feelings of anger and humiliation instead jumping to what was bothering himself. “What do you mean?” You said softly, careful with your words. “Dont play the fool.” He scoffed running a hand through his silvery blonde hair. Scrutinising you, as if he could see the cogs in your little brain whirring, desperately trying to process his accusations. Whilst you thought Aegon stared. Taking in your skantily clad figure, the sheer nightgown he had bought for you.

Wearing it still evoked a pang of guilt in your chest, knowing you were betraying your immediate family by having such relations with Aegon. Your mother would not know what to say if or rather when she figured out her sweet girl, her only daughter was involved with her younger brother, the epitome of unruliness and cruelty. Naturally it was futile to wish for approval you would never get from her, yet you knew the conversation at some point must occur. Especially since it had been many moons since Aegon had started visiting your bedchambers with a promise to make you a mother, a wife and a queen. A queen. The title promised to your mother.

You didnt bother mentioning that you had no interest in your other Uncle. You were devoted to Aegon and Aegon alone, but you knew he would not hear it. You had been looking at Aemond, an atrocity he would not let go unpunished. Even if you had only been staring because the conversation of your Brothers legitimacy had you on edge. You were waiting for him to target you next, worried for what would happen if Aegon was in the room if Aemond ridiculed you. Would he even defend your honour? Or would he leave you to wallow in the shame of your mothers infidelity.

“Were you waiting for Aemond?” Aegon whispered his voice husky and deep with rage. “Maybe he’s on his way now, ready to spill himself deep into the womb of his spoiled whore of a niece.” You flinched at his degradation. “Aemond is a devoted husband to Helaena.” You whimpered voice meeker than you wished it to be. The blood of the dragon ran through your veins, yet your own fire was stifled by the terrifying glint in Aegon’s eyes. He stalked towards you, expression stony and serious. More serious than you ever saw him.

“He called my brothers bastards.” You snapped, trying desperately to change the conversation and avoid his wrath. “Strong boys he called them and you sat there drank your wine and laughed.”

“Him or me.” He said simply, ignoring you trying to shift his attention, his tone sent shivers down your spine.

If you were a smart girl and Aemond was unmarried you would have chosen him. He was infinitely kinder compared to Aegon even if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. But you weren’t a smart girl, and Aegon was not a smart man. He should have bed and married his sister, Heleana regardless of his own wants and needs.

“You.” is what you would have said, had Aegon’s hand not whipped upwards to tighten around your neck, warm and strong and unrelenting. “Him or me.” He repeated his eyes the deepest purple, bordering on black, with lust or anger you could not say. He leant in, mouth pressed agaisnt your ear. “You are not his to take.” He growled. “You are mine to fuck, to seed, to marry, do you understand my darling niece? For as long as I am alive you will remain mine.” He released you when you began to claw at his wrists with desperation for air. Your vision was blurring, tiny pinpricks of black surrounded your Uncle. Tears welled in your eyes, a stinging sensation building in your nose. Aegon released his grip. “Get on the bed.”

You wanted to claw your hair out, to scream, to cry, to beg for him not to punish you for something he had invented of his own accord. But you didn’t. You got on the bed as Aegon began to unbuckle his belt. He gave you a stern look and begrudgingly you moved into the position he wanted you in, arse up ready for his punishment. Maybe he’d fuck your arsehole until it bled, make it impossible for you to leave your room the next day, or would he spank you red raw until you couldn’t sit down because of the pressure on the blue-black bruises he’d given you. You knew he was thinking about which way he wanted to take his anger out on you.

The bed dipped with Aegon’s weight. He grabbed your hips roughly pulling you against his clothed stomach, you were arched like a stretching cat, the way he loved to take you. He administered one searing slap against your left arse cheek with his belt, you convulsed in his arms at the impact wanting to cry alloud at the pain of one strike. “I know it hurts.” He whispered directly into your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe and sending a flush of addictive pleasure between your legs. “But when you behave like a whore you get treated like one.” You couldn’t stop the growl that escaped your lips. Aegon let out a burst of laughter, delighted at your anger, sorrow and neediness.

“Do you not like that name my sweet?” He condescended. “No I think you like it very much.” He ran a hand down your raised thigh, the further down he traced the closer he got to your aching centre. You closed your legs, trying to hide your wetness from him. In response Aegon grabbed a fistful of your hair and wrenched your head back so far you were sure your scalp would be bleeding. “Listen to me.” He pried your legs open with the hand opposite to the one abusing your hair. “I am going to ruin your cunt. I am going to use you to make myself cum and then when your so swollen and desperate from all the orgasms I deny you I will shove my cock back in and push my cum deep inside you.” He leaned in closer. “You come before I tell you its alright then you will be punished, you fail to satisfy me and you will be punished.” With that you felt his blunt head push against your hole. Aegon was collecting your slick before slamming his hips into yours.

“Your pulsing.” He grunted. “Your pussy is trying to push me out.” You didn’t doubt him one bit, the lack of preparation had you engulfed in an excruciating stretch as Aegon pounded you with no restraint all you could do was grasp desperately at the furs on your bed and gurgle as Aegon had his way with you. He clapped a hand over your mouth as a means to quiet you down. But you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your mouth when he changed positions, pounding the spot inside you that always made you crumble around him. “Do not cum.” He growled, you mewled. It wasn’t possible. “I can’t hold it Aegon.” You gasped. “You must.” He replied curtly. He continued to brutally thrust into you. You could feel him pulsing as well, his cock twitching inside you as he continued to fuck you desperately. He was close, but so were you.

You tried to think of anything but the approach of your orgasm, wiggling in your gut like an unwanted worm. You thought of how Aegon demanded respect when he fucked you. You wondered when you saw how he interacted with Alicent if when he was with you that was the only time he was ever in control of his life. You thought about how your mother would be queen. How no matter how often Aegon said he’d make you his queen he didn’t wish to be king even a little bit.

It distracted you for a bit before Aegon began to vocalise his pleasure, grunting and groaning in your ear as if he knew how much it would turn you on. “Dont cum inside please.” You whispered. Aegon flipped you over, legs over his shoulders. “Oh I’m coming inside.” He smirked at whatever expression of horror you must have plastered on your face. “Lets hope it takes and my babe grows in your pretty girl womb.” You let out a gasp of irritation as he slowed his thrusts, the burst of pleasure you had been feeling in the moment dissipating with the loss of his deep thrusting. “You want to come for me?” Aegon asked. You nodded your head vigorously. “Then say that you belong to me. That no one fucks your cunt as well as I do. That you want no one other than Aegon Targaryen.”

“I belong to you.” Aegon resumed his thrusting, growing more frantic and sloppy as he neared his release, you keened. “No one fucks my cunt as well as you do.” If anyone walked past usually you would be mortified, sounding like a commonplace whore. Yet you could care less, having gone dumb on his cock the minute his tip met your entrance. “I want no one other than Aegon Targaryen.” You gasped as your orgasm overtook you the minute you finished saying what he had asked of you. It hit you hard and intense from Aegon’s edging. He growled as he felt you tighten impossibly around him.

Aegon cursed as he came, spilling himself deep into you regardless of what you asked. Terror spiked in your gut. “What if I have a child Aegon.” For a second you were expecting him to shut you down. To say something along the lines of “I already father a dozen bastards whats one more going to do.” Instead he pressed a kiss to your temple, “I dont think anyone would bat an eye if you and I were to wed.” You gasped, stiffening beneath him. “Are you asking me to marry you?” You whispered, barely believing what you were hearing. “I would like nothing more. If you will have me.” You felt tears prick in your eyes, guiding him back to your entrance as you pressed a deep kiss against his lips.

You always forgave him too quickly.

“If you want it to take you’ll need to cum more than once.” You whispered, tucking his hair behind his ear. Aegon grinned, pulling out and angling his hips as he prepared to fuck you again.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #aegon x you #hotd smut #hotd x reader #rhaneyra targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys targaryen #x reader #x you smut #aemond x helaena #aegon smut #aegon targaryen smut

[marvelsmylife]

Soul(Mates) Chapter: One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader, Azriel x Elain, (eventually) Azriel x reader 

Plot: after a night of celebration the subject of soulmates came up and with your permission, Strange decided to see if he can track down your soulmate.

Growing up, everyone would talk about the name of their soulmate written in gold on their right arm. They would talk about what they thought their soulmate would look like and how much they wanted to meet them.

Unfortunately for you, you were born without a name on said arm and you wondered if you were destined to be alone. Your parents did their best to reassure you that your soulmate was out there but hearing your peers tell you that you were going to die alone was taking a toll on you.

By age 30, you accepted that you might never get a soulmate. Of course, you knew you could date someone who hasn’t met their soulmate yet but seeing their name in gold reminded you that their soulmate was out there waiting for them.

Because of that, you decide to date men whose soulmates have passed away. Of course that dating pool was minimal, especially if you wanted to date someone around your age. That’s why you felt fortunate when Bucky Barnes came into your life and changed your life forever.

When you first got together he informed you that he wanted something serious. He told you about his past and was ready to settle down. You wanted to ask about his soulmate when he beat you to the punch “She passed away a few decades ago”.

Looking at his wrist, you noticed his soulmate's name was in black ink, indicating they had already passed. “I’m so sorry Bucky” you managed to get out without crying for him.

“It’s ok” Bucky replied “I never got the chance to meet her because I was under Hydra's control. I only knew about the year she passed away when I tried to see if she ever got married to someone who didn’t have their soulmate but she never did”.

You felt your heart break for Bucky because you could tell he felt sad for not actually getting to meet his soulmate at least once. “I know we’re not soulmates so we won’t have that deep bond that soulmates have but I promise to be by your side for as long as you want me” you promised as you wiped away the tears that were starting to slip from Bucky’s eyes.

-

True to your word, you have stuck by Bucky for five beautiful years. Of course, your relationship had its ups and downs but for the most part, you two were genuinely happy. 

Everyone was happy that you two were happy and completely forgot you two weren’t actually soulmates until one night after a party Tony had thrown for Bruce and Natasha to celebrate their engagement. 

Stephen had let it slip that he had been working on a spell to find someone’s soulmate. He was complaining that he didn’t know anyone who didn’t have a soulmate.

That’s when Tony chimed in that you didn’t have a soulmate and caused everyone to look over at you. You started to grow uncomfortable with the attention now on you and started to protest.

“Come on y/n, aren’t you a little bit curious to know if you actually do have a soulmate or not?” Tony asked and caused a few nods from your friends.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious but you also didn’t want to ruin the life you’ve built with Bucky.

Sensing your curiosity, Bucky leaned over and whispered into your ear “It’s ok doll, this won’t change anything between us”.

Before you could even think you blurted out “ok”.

Everyone sent you a small smile as you got up and held out your hand so Stephen could get a drop of your blood for the spell.

After a few minutes of nothing happening you let out a shaky breath “See, no soulmate”.

Just as you were making your way back to Bucky, everyone’s eyes went wide as a portal appeared behind you. “What are you guys-”

You stopped when you noticed what they were looking at. Just then a tall, tan man with pointed ears and violet eyes walked through the portal and caused the team to go into defense mode.

“Who are you and why did you create a portal in the middle of my townhouse” the mystery man asked.

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @quinxxs @stained-glass-eyes0708 @dustyinkpages

#avengers imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky x reader #acotar imagine #azriel x reader

[tipsyleaf]

No okay, cause Leon’s wife def had an old stinky cat that just wouldn’t die when they were first dating. That cat had probably lost all of its 9 lives already, it was hanging on by a thread. But it was so loving! Poor kitty, was probably rubbing up against her stomach all day the day she went into labor with Violet. Isn’t that crazy, cats can predict when women go into labor before they even feel anything??

Eventually the poor kitty passed, and as time passed by and they had more kids, I could see Leon getting a family dog. Probably a German shepherd or golden retriever. The kids had some pets as well, I could see Violet having some weird pet like a snake or a bearded dragon, which her mother would deathly be afraid of.

Cecilia probably has a cat, she calls it kitty. Or a hamster. That hamster randomly just disappeared one day, and no one knows where it is.

- Anon! 🎀

(God this was fun to think about this stuff!)

His wife had an old crusty cat that was almost as old as she was when Leon and her met. Just a little old lady cat named Winnie who would scream at Leon until he picked her up. You knew Leon was the one because she usually hated men but adored him with her entire little old lady heart. I imagine she probably died not long after Violets first birthday. But everyday that cat would be laying by her tiny humans crib. Protecting her as she slept.

The dog probably came after Cecilia was born (DI Era Leon cause the timeline matches up) a dog that got brought into the DSO as a therapy animal. His name's Smokey and Leon took him on. That dog is as spoiled as the kids are. Constantly up Leon's ass wherever he is in the house. You think it's the universe giving you a pat on the back for all the times he's bugged you while trying to have some time to yourself.

Violet would have a male ferret. Name it Stretch. And it's not that her mother's scared of the ferret... It's just very noisy and messy. But Violet loves this thing. Carries him around the house on her shoulders so he can "feel tall". She taught him how to play dead. Wears him like a decorative scarf and he doesn't care. Violet probably even has a tunnel system going around her room leading different ways just to go back to his cage.

Cecilia definitely has a teddy bear hamster. She originally wanted a rabbit so her parents got her a hamster as a starter pet to see how responsible she is. Puff, the hamsters name, often goes missing... Not on purpose! He's a tricky little bugger that even got away from her mom and dad when she went away to camp for a month during the summer. He was missing for a week but you woke up one morning and found him in the cabinet in the kitchen when making coffee. Nearly had a heart attack, but he was perfectly fine. So eventually you and Leon upgraded this hamster to the life of luxury, a giant tank with attached playground for him to run around in. He hasn't escaped since!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🌿 ivy replies #🌿 ivy writes #resident evil x reader #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy

[moonlit-midnight]

One More Happy Ending

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech.

Genre: Remarriage, Romance, Mild angst.

Summary: In which your sick husband asks you to remarry as his final wish.

Warnings:

Character death in the first part. Reader is a female, has a child with Jade and has long hair.

The wedding setup is inspired by one of my fave movies.

—

“If I would die today, my darling, I would die knowing that your life was my life’s best part. I would remember that you were the heart that kept me alive.”

Hanging your head low, you desperately held back the unshed tears from falling.

You couldn’t look at your husband without crying because looking at him in that state shattered your heart into pieces.

His illness took a toll on him, but despite being on the brink of death, Jade Leech never lost his smile. His dazzling smile that rivaled the shine of the sun was still present.

“I have one last wish. Would you hear me out and fulfill it, my love?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” you got up from the chair, taking the empty space beside him on the hospital bed.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world, so after you move on from my death, I want you to marry Azul.” Jade held your hand, his grip was tight as if his life depended on it. “Once you get married, don’t feel guilty about it.”

He paused briefly, bursting into fits of coughing.

“I know that you love Azul as much as you love me, and he loves you too more than anything.”

Another pause ensued, followed by a weak sigh, then eventually his body went limp and still in your hold.

Minutes later, Dr. Riddle Rosehearts, the doctor in charge who was also your longtime friend rushed inside the ward, his expression heartbroken and crestfallen.

“I pronounce Jade Leech dead. Time of death 10:04 A.M.” He announced tearfully as he pulled you into a consoling hug. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

After Riddle left, you stared at your deceased husband, allowing your tears to flow freely.

After weeping for a long time, a faint smile embraced your lips as you recalled what Jade told you a week ago.

My darling wife, when I leave this world, I hope you’re here beside me.

I hope I look peaceful with the sun shining down on me.

Indeed, Jade died while you were by his side, looking serene and at peace, as if he never suffered from an illness.

He died in a sun-lit room, his face glowed beautifully beneath the mellow sunlight of the autumn season.

“Thank you for sharing your love and your life with me. You made my dreams come true, and I am forever grateful.” you smiled, brushing one last kiss on his face.

★ —

As you and Azul placed a bouquet of violets in front of Jade’s gravestone, a painful pang struck you like a bullet.

Seven years flew by since you lost Jade, and the heartache was still there.

When he died, you and Azul couldn’t tuck him in your hearts because he couldn’t fit.

He died young, and before his time, so you couldn’t seal him away like that because sealing meant forgetting.

“I loved Jade from the moment I met him. We were like long lost soulmates who finally found each other.” you said softly, gazing at the wide, blue sky.

“He was really a great friend.” Azul chimed in, smiling afterwards.

Despite not moving on from his death, you and your best friend still managed to find new happiness and new beginnings.

You lived a joyful life with your daughter whom you were expecting when Jade passed away.

She was named Daisy, in loving memory of your late husband who always gifted you bouquet of daisies during your dates.

She was born five months after his death, and she was seven years old at the moment.

Daisy was the female version of Jade.

She had the same glimmering mismatched eyes and gorgeous teal hair except hers was wavy, and the way she smiled was exactly like him.

She was a little prankster and mischievous like her uncle Floyd, and she enjoyed teasing you a lot.

She was your light when all hopes were lost, and that’s what you loved about her the most.

★ —

“Uncle Azul!” Daisy clung onto Azul’s leg.

Although the latter was busy baking, he still acknowledged the girl.

“Yes, my little flower?”

“When will I start going to an elite school like NRC?”

“When you turn sixteen.” Azul glanced down at her.

“Hmph, still a long way.” Daisy pouted.

He lifted her in his arms, and with a grin, he smeared a blob of icing on her tiny nose.

“Gee uncle, why do you always smear icing on my nose every time you bake?”

“Because I love you.” The silver haired man smiled, lightly pinching the child’s cheeks.

“And I love you more than mama.” your daughter giggled, putting her small arms around Azul.

“Daisy Leech, how dare you say that!”

They froze upon hearing your voice. They turned around, only to see you glaring at them in a playful manner.

“Oh, hey dear best friend.” Azul grinned.

“Tsk, you and your stupid grin.”

“Uncle’s grin is not stupid!”

“Just kidding.” you chuckled as you stood beside Azul.

While watching him putting icing on the blueberry cake which he usually baked during Sunday mornings, you felt your daughter tugging on your sleeve.

“Mama and uncle Azul, can we sit down for a few minutes? I have something to tell you.”

Upon hearing that, the man set down the icing nozzle as he sat on the floor, and you followed suit.

“Last night someone visited me in my dreams. I think the man was my late father.” said your daughter. “He asked me if uncle Azul is treating us well. I told him yes, and I told him that he makes mama so happy. Father seemed relieved hearing my answer.”

“Uncle Azul, I know it’s not my place to say this, but will you do the honor to marry my mama, and adopt me?” The girl reached for your best friend’s hand, her eyes glistening. “I always considered you a family, but I want us to be a real family.”

It wasn’t shocking hearing such thing from your child, but you didn’t expect that she would bring this topic in the open one day.

“I would be happy to marry your mother and have you as my daughter, but only if your mama is okay with it.” Azul glanced at you, a gentle smile adorning his face.

“Of course I’m okay with it.” you returned the same smile, feeling a new love blooming in the empty space in your heart.

★ —

(Two years later)

Today was supposed to be your another big day, but it was postponed due to a small incident.

Three days ago, you were hanging out with your daughter in your treehouse, and while heading down, you missed a step and fell down.

The treehouse wasn’t high, but it still left you with one twisted ankle.

You weren’t upset, but you were a little sad that your wedding was postponed until you recovered.

Unbeknown to you, your friends already planned everything.

“Rise and shine. You gotta get ready.” Floyd gently shook your sleeping figure awake.

“Get ready for what?” you mumbled before fluttering your eyes open.

“For your wedding.” Floyd leaned forward, a big grin plastered on his face.

“What wedding are you talking about? It’s postponed for a week.”

Floyd could only giggle, looping an arm around your body to help you get up.

Once Floyd was done with your makeup and your other friends helped you dress up, you headed to the wedding venue.

You could swear that your friends were creative.

With a permission granted from the hospital administrators, a makeover was done to the hospital’s cafeteria, turning it into a wonderful wedding hall.

“You guys really did this?” you marveled at the beauty of the place.

“Yeah, and Azul helped too.”

“W-what? He really did?”

“I know that he’s the groom, but it was honestly your man's idea in the first place.” Floyd winked at you.

Thrilled and giddy with excitement, you clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your squeals.

“You’re one lucky lady.” Floyd remarked, chuckling softly.

★ —

Once all the invited guests arrived, your chosen wedding soundtrack started to play in the background.

Your right hand was in Floyd’s grasp, fingers interlaced, and your other hand was holding tight onto the crutch.

“Scared?” He asked quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles to calm your nerves.

“Not at all.” you beamed a smile. “Just make sure I won’t fall.”

“You won’t,” Floyd smiled back. “You have me.”

The two of you began walking down the aisle, heads high, and postures calm and relaxed.

You looked beautiful in your simple yet stunning wedding gown, handpicked by Mrs. Leech, your previous mother-in-law.

Your hair was curled, radiating beneath the lights, and a pretty crown of blue daisies sat atop your head.

You teared up when you neared Azul, and you almost cried when you spotted your beloved nine year old daughter in the front row, cheering for you.

“I’m so happy for you, mama.” she said, smiling brightly.

★ —

“Do you, Azul Ashengrotto take (...) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her and cherish her to the end of your days?”

Azul looked at you, drowning into your gaze, and your enchanting smile spared him a breath.

“I do.” He exclaimed as he placed the ring on your finger. “From this day forward, I promise you that even when the skies tear apart, even when the sun burns out and the lights go out, I will love you to whatever end awaits us.”

The man who officiated the ceremony turned to you.

“Do you, (...) take Azul Ashengrotto to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him and cherish him to the end of your days?”

“I do.” you responded, eyes glittering like gemstones. “From this day forward, I vow to share my love, my happiness and my sadness with you. As long as we shall live, I will be here for you, for love and death go together.”

The man announced. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

As soon as you and Azul shared a kiss, the room erupted with clapping, gleeful cheers and cheerful squeals.

Some had happy smiles on their faces, and some had tears of joy in their eyes.

It was a heartwarming feeling seeing the guests genuinely happy and excited for you, but what mattered the most at the moment was the two of you.

Under the bright blue skies, you found a home in each other, and you’d never be apart.

For you and Azul, home was never a certain place.

It was anywhere as long as you were together.

#🌸hannah’s musings #twst #twisted wonderland #female reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul x you #twst x azul #azul ashengrotto #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #twst x jade leech #twst x jade #floyd leech x reader #twst x floyd leech #twst x floyd #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction

[writingsofwesteros]

I love your work and that's why I wanted to ask for an OS. Just imagine that Y/N is the second born of Viserys and aemma. She is in love with her uncle, who only notices her in passing. When Ser Christian Cole appears and he begins to fight for the princess's attention, Daemon becomes jealous because Y/N no longer pays any attention to Daemon, but only has eyes for Ser Cole. At the tournament where Ser Cole defeats Daemon, he asks for Y/N Favor not Rhaenyras. Daemon gets angry and wants to remind his niece who he thinks she belongs to, so he goes to her room in the evening after the tournament and makes her his(18+)

AN:Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

You hated it. The new necklace dangling on your so precious sister’s neck seemed to taunt you in the sunlight. You sat behind her; next to your father as the announcement of your mother’s labour came through. The crowd cheered whilst you only worried. Your mind is moving to different places that only involve your uncle.

Well, they usually only involved your uncle but now another was invading your thoughts. Ser Cole had given her soft smiles throughout the days that the Princess couldn’t help but be addicted to. You shouldn't be so pathetic and soft, but how could you not be when nobody ever gave you attention.

The last couple of days you had only been focusing on looking your prettiest for the tournament. Your uncle’s arrival had passed you by without you realising it. But Daemon noticed and didn’t appreciate it one bit. You were his, even if he hadn’t given you any attention. He didn’t think he had to. But it seemed he had competition and the jealousy rising inside him left a bad taste in his mouth as he watched you clap away with the nobles. Daemon noticed your eyes moving towards Ser Cole and his own narrowed. He saw Rhaenyra trying to gain his attention but he was too annoyed to focus on her now.

His only focus was on you. For the first time ever and yours had to be on someone else. It’s why he added some extra fight when Ser Cole finally came against him. Whilst you could only watch nervously; not wanting either of them to be hurt too bad and you knew how vicious your uncle could be. And this time wasn’t any different, except that Ser Cole was holding his own incredibly well. You were shocked and enjoying the spectacle like everyone else. You didn’t notice your sister looking at you; probably wondering why you were so excited when your precious uncle was on the receiving end.

It was insulting to hear your claps and cheers when he was finally defeated after Cole came from behind him. It enraged him even more when the Ser had the nerve to come up and ask for your favour. His Princess’ favour that was supposed to be his when he won. But Daemon could only watch and seeth in anger. “Good fighting Ser.” You smiled brightly at him as the crown of flowers fell for him to reach. “Thank you my Princess.” Ser Cole replied; his own smile matching yours as he looked over his shoulder to see Daemon leaving. “Maybe I’ll see you at the feast?” He asked as you only nodded with a soft giggle. 

You watched him go and softly nibbled on your bottom lip; happy with yourself at having not thought about Daemon right up until this point. Your violet eyes moved across the crowds but couldn’t find him. “I’ll head to my chambers.” You whispered into your sister’s ear as you walked past.

~

The news of your mother’s passing hadn’t reached you yet as you stared into the mirror; slowly taking the jewels out of your hair. Your fingers moved through your locks with a soft moan as the ties had been too strong and had you aching for a moment. A soft moan escaped you as your locks fell down. You felt like you could finally relax but it seemed your luck wasn’t on your side as your bedroom door slowly opened. A look of confusion came across your face as you looked over your shoulder to see Daemon. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him here and your eyes could only widen. “Uncle..” You softly gasped out, not expecting him here at all. “Is something wrong?” You worried for your mother almost instantly but Daemon only shook his head. He began to step closer and you realised the buttons of your gown were only half done. “You should leave..I’m not dressed.” “Hmm, I don’t mind.” Daemon finally spoke. His eyes had darkened and you could only gulp. Your soft breasts moving as you took a breath and the dress stretched ; giving him a full view. “I thought you knew by now who you belonged to.” Daemon raised an eyebrow as he came to a stop in front of you.

“I…what do you mean?” You softly babbled out as his hand moved to stroke your sides. Those eyes of his moving over your body whilst his other hand moved down your chest. He pulled the rest of the buttons and you gasped now being fully on display. You couldn’t move as his hand cupped your breast. “Daemon..you can’t.” You reached to grab his hand even as your body was humming in desire. “You don’t want this?” Daemon leaned in; whispering in your ear as his finger slowly teased your nipple. “You don’t think I see you staring.” He continued as his hand began to travel south. Goosebumps quickly spread across your soft skin.

You couldn’t stop the blush as you slowly moved back; your legs hitting your bed as you locked eyes with him. “I haven’t..” You tried to lie your way out of this as Daemon slowly moved you to lie down. Your hands instantly gripped on him; half wanting this as your legs slowly fell apart in a silent surrender. “Don’t start lying to me now.” Daemon whispered into your ear as his hand slowly moved to his pants and began to unbutton. It didn’t help your body when you began to remember the first time he took you. Under the stars after he let you on Caraxes for the first time but then he began to ignore you once more.

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you so soon.” He whispered down at you and you whimpered out loud as his hard cock slapped against his stomach. “You know we can’t be seen together in court. I didn’t think you were so greedy, Y/N.” Daemon continued to tease you as you tried to keep quiet. “I wasn’t doing anything.” You whimpered out, trying to plead your case as his hard cock moved through your soaked folds “Such a naughty Princess I have.” Daemon purred into your ear as he finally pushed inside you. It had been so long and he was so big; you could only whine and tighten around him.

Your fingers instantly moved into his hair as your legs wrapped around him. Your body reacts to the familiar feel. “I just want you.” You locked eyes with him as Daemon leaned in and passionately captured your lips. “You have me.” He promised before your tongues began to dance. All you could do now was melt against him. Your hand moving to your headboard as his thrusts only quickened. “I’m going to make sure the whole court knows it.” Daemon whispered mostly to himself as he looked down and watched you take his cock. You were going to carry his heir even before he married you. He was going to make sure of it.

Nobody would take you away from him.

TAGLIST

@janelongxox

@writerslove2403

@severewobblerlightdragon 

@ivanna6026

@opheliax98

@savage-aespa 

@heartysworld 

@thekayarlene 

@katie007123

#daemon targaryen x reader #request

[abigailmoment]

Sometimes it was obvious from a distance when something was wrong with prey. But other times, you didn't know that there was something sickly about blood until after you'd drunk a deer-ful of it.

The heavy sensation of nausea was a familiar feeling. Astarion's old diet had never been what one might call hygienic. The rats of Baldur's Gate suffered from many blood born maladies. Repeated exposure had made him resistant to those, but the beasts of the wilds had exciting new diseases. One of which had him curled up in the corner of his tent, too dizzy to stand and wracked with cramps every hour or so.

He wanted to retch, but he didn't want to lose the blood and he was afraid of being ill too loudly. The others might hear and Lae'zel might make good on her promise. Was this bad blood or ceremorphosis? Can't be too careful and he wasn't in a position to object. You needed to be able to stand and see clearly to argue with a gith and a greatsword. Snicker-snack and then the party would just use magic to open locked chests.

That's how the world worked. Bad things happened when people saw that you were weak.

Full text below. Full Text On AO3

The pain waxed and waned. When it waned he dipped into fitful periods of meditation. Which was good. Unconsciousness passed the time. But it also meant that morning came as a surprise. He startled awake because someone was knocking on a tent pole.

"Rise and shine, Ancunin. Time to be the only vampire in the realms who's a morning person."

He twitched awake and up into a crouch, but then his catlike reflexes slammed into vertigo and made that into a graceless scrabble to half sitting up. All the movement woke his head to the fact that it was apparently supposed to be aching terribly. He groaned.

The person at the tent flap crouched down and peered inside. "Are you okay?"

It was Tav. That was workable. He had pull with Tav. He tried to compose a response. It needed to be casual, minimize this, and give an explanation that had nothing to do with mindflayers. It took far too long, but he came up with:

"I'm afraid I'm not up for adventure, darling. I ate something that disagreed with me. About more than just being eaten."

The cavalier words felt heavy on his tongue. He couldn't roll them off with the careless lilt they were supposed to come with. But he got it all out without mumbling at least.

"Got it," Tav said, peering in at him. "I don't know what spells she has today, but I could get Shadowheart to come over and…"

"No," Astarion snapped much more harshly than he meant to. "No, that's…that wouldn't work on this."

He actually wasn't sure, he'd never had access to someone with Restoration before, but he absolutely could not stand the idea of the imperious cleric looking down her nose at him huddled on the ground.

"Okay," Tav said immediately.

He couldn't see her clearly. The dizziness was still with him and made blurry multiples of anything he tried to focus on. Tav was a violet blotch rimmed in sunlight at the entrance to his tent. She wasn't immediately leaving, which made him nervous.

"What do you…" She started to ask something, but trailed off and turned it into a different question: "How does this work?"

Ah. She wanted to know when she'd have a functional rogue back. That was reasonable.

"It won't last more than a day," he assured her. Which wasn't necessarily true, but the pain wasn't acute anymore and after a day he'd be able to conceal whatever was left.

"Got it," Tav said again, a little more slowly this time.

And then she left. She'd gotten what she needed from him. That was good. He could rest again.

Astarion shifted slowly so that his back was to the back of the tent, flush with the rock wall it was pitched against. The acute pain was gone, thank the Gods, but he still felt nauseated in a way that made him want to crawl out of his skin. He closed his eyes and listened to people moving around the camp. He didn't want to lie down again until everyone else had settled down. The clatter and banter of a group leaving for the day was easy to track because Karlach was among them and she was excited about something. After that everything was quieter. He started to relax.

And then he wasn't relaxed anymore because there were footsteps next to his tent and a shape at the entrance.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

It wasn't Lae'zel. It was Tav again. And he was so relieved he told her "Yes." immediately without really thinking about it.

She ducked inside and sat down opposite him. Her arms were full of random things. It was like when she went around compulsively looting everything in a room, only she'd done it to the camp. Which was strange on multiple levels.

"You're still here?" Astarion asked, a little muddled. Tav never stayed at camp.

"Sure," she said easily, as if this were in any way normal. "Wyll and the girls are going looking for buried treasure. They don't need me for that."

That meant Lae'zel was gone, which was exceptionally good news for Astarion's ability to unclench his shoulders. Tav shifted her armful of nonsense to her lap and fished out a bottle. She uncorked it and held it out towards him.

"We don't have any antidotes left after that spider debacle, but Gale thought an infusion of mugwort would help," she explained.

Astarion took the bottle carefully. It smelled like grass. He supposed it couldn't do him any more harm, so he drank some. It tasted like ashes, but so did everything that wasn't blood. It at least didn't make him feel worse, so he drank some more.

Tav deposited the rest of her burden, which consisted of pillows, a sleeping mat and a blanket.

"When I'm sick all I want to do is be surrounded by soft things," she explained. "So I grabbed a bunch of soft things. Do you want them?"

Yes. Of course he wanted them. He had a general policy of wanting all of the things. It was just perplexing when he didn't have to steal them. The blanket was the very nice sheepskin one Tav had decided to go back into a burning building to rescue after she'd finished saving all the people.

(After the fourth time she'd ducked back inside to save sausages of all things Lae'zel started howling that the tadpole had eaten her brain. She and Shadowheart had joined forces to literally drag Tav away as the tiefling argued animatedly that there were still potato wedges in the kitchen. It had been very funny.)

Then an explanation sidled into his head, illuminating his confusion--this was about the sex. People in alleged relationships did all sorts of odd and particular things for each other. He'd forgotten.

She'd asked him a question, hadn't she? He hadn't answered. He'd been running his fingers over the very soft sheepskin. Now he'd been quiet for too long and now the silence stretched out strangely. He didn't quite know what to fill it with.

Tav broke it with another question: "Would you like me to stay?"

He really wasn't sure. He didn't want to perform. That was so tiring. But it felt safer to have a body between him and the outside world right now. When he wasn't sure he could stand and definitely couldn't stab anything worth a damn. He had pull with Tav. She didn't want him to die.

It was really such a nice thing, to have someone else care that you were alive.

"Do as you will," is how he managed to respond.

She stayed. She helped him lay out the extra mat so that it lay straight on his usual one. She cleared away a pile of books and didn't comment or even look at him when he swayed slightly, or somehow stumbled despite the fact he wasn't even standing.

She ended up sitting cross-legged next to the entrance, looking out and fiddling with a lyre. The one she'd stolen from that drow they'd killed. Astarion had shifted the sleeping mats so that he could lie down with his back to the comforting solidity of stone. He had two pillows and the sheepskin blanket. He thought the mugwort might be helping because the heavy feeling of illness had gentled from claw-skin-off-to-distract-yourself-bad to just deeply unpleasant.

He rested. It was easier now. He even drifted off at one point. He closed his eyes and when he opened them the sunlight was slanting in a different way and Tav had picked up one of his books.

"Hey," she said, noticing he was awake. "Can I touch your forehead?"

Random sort of a question. But fine. Astarion made an indifferent noise that could be interpreted as assent. Then he went very still because she was touching his forehead and that was…odd.

"You don't have a fever," Tav observed.

Astarion pursed his lips. Now that he didn't have to concentrate on sitting up, he could inject just the correct amount of condescending archness into saying: "That would require having a body temperature."

There was a pause.

"Right," Tav said, sounding duly chastened.

"Don't quit your day job, darling."

She laughed. "And here I had my heart set on becoming a vampire nursemaid."

He snorted at her. Her fingers hadn't left his forehead, and when they did they curled away slowly. Trailing through his hair in a lingering way that made him very aware when the touch was gone. She went back to reading his book.

He felt better. Almost normal, as long as he stayed still. And he didn't need to move, right now. The camp was quiet. The only things he could hear were birds and the scrape of paper as Tav turned pages.

This was…nice?

This was nice.

***

This is the start of a series. The rest of the story is on AO3.

***

#astarion #astarion x tav #sickfic #hurt/comfort #astarion doesn't know how to deal with people being kind to him #astarion x oc #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Okay, so I've been surfing tumblr and seeing all these headcanons and various other little things about the Sullies as children and it got my brain going so thanks a lot to every last person who has aided in giving me Avatar brainrot. Anyways, I've built this whole thing up in my head that goes from the time Neytiri & Ronal get pregnant to who the fuck knows, so starting with the eldest lets begin (just the Sullys as babies, if you enjoy putting your own thoughts in this one then I'll get to Ronal and Tonowari's kids and more lol).

Neteyam

He was a total and complete accident 100%

Jake and Neytiri were a very quick-burn romantically and got married a little over a year after they officially began dating, they were only married for like 12 seconds when surprise! Positive pregnancy test, babe.

Jake spends a good thirty minutes fully committed to the idea that Neytiri is just fucking with him. She is not.

He spends another thirty minutes wrapping his head around the fact that he's going to be a dad.

He wants so badly to talk to Tommy about it but god damnit he can't.

He's for sure the more cautious one during the pregnancy, of that I have no doubt. Neytiri will want to do some random shit like go horseback riding with Tsu'tey (this man will always live on in my heart okay let me be happy) and Jake will practically faint at the thought alone.

Eventually Neytiri will start pretending to want to do #risky shit solely for the amusement Jake's reactions bring her with zero intentions of actually following through. Nobody is sure if Jake ever ended up catching on or not.

I'm 100% convinced that Neytiri would be into all of the traditional pregnancy milestones/events and fucking live for each and every one of them regardless of Jake's thoughts because it's their baby, Jake, and don't you want to see if a necklace will actually predict the gender of him/her? (It very much did not, Neteyam wound up being a boy. Stupid necklace.)

Grandma Mo'at is your trademark superstitious/nature-inclined grandparent and I have zero doubts that Neytiri has inherited some of that. I feel like it would flare up during her first pregnancy but only, like, low-key. Do with this information what you will.

Jake has no idea what to do or buy or anything but boy does he try. (When he fails he fails hard but when he gets it right he gets it right *that cute little dinosaur mobile is just so adorable!*)

Neteyam is by far Neytiri's easiest pregnancy. She doesn't really get any morning sickness and feels pretty fine in general throughout the whole thing.

She does wind up craving a ton of different fruits though (blueberries and honeydew melon mainly, but also strawberries, watermelon, blackberries, and pretty much any other melon under the sun. Oh, there was also that one time she refused to eat anything but pomegranates for like one solid afternoon).

Neteyam is a summer baby and nobody can convince me otherwise. August, to be exact.

I imagine that, while her pregnancy was breezy, Neteyam's actual birth sucked ass.

Jake almost passes out but luckily war prepared him for the horrors he witnessed in that delivery room.

Neteyam was actually pretty quiet after his birth. Once they got him all wrapped up he was chill.

Jake was the first one to hold him since Neytiri was exhausted beyond understanding, but Jake sat really close to her and she pretty much demanded to hold their son after like 5 minutes and the nurses were all like: ma'am, you're about to pass out???

As long as one of six songs is playing everything is chill: Edith Whisker's Home, Stephan Sanchez's See the Light, Sea Wolf's The Violet Hour, The Family Crest's She Knows My Name, Mills' Born N' Raised, or Black Match's Nowhere. If one of these songs is playing, Neteyam is an angel. The moment the music stops, though? I'd hate to be anyone within a ten mile radius because that baby's got pipes.

I feel like Neteyam is actually a big daddy's boy during this time period. He's all giggly and happy around everyone, but it becomes clear around three months in that dad is indeed the favorite. And it makes sense. Jake is who he's around the majority of his day (I'm fully committed to stay-at-home dad Jake Sully). Neytiri likes to tease him, saying if she was at home more it would be no contest. Secretly, though, she's happy he's bonding so much with their baby. He needs some light in his life.

Jake is completely restless inside but at the same time has no idea what he can and cannot do with a baby (plus there's the whole "music needs to be playing" thing) so he resorts to long car rides regularly with Neteyam's coveted songs playing on repeat.

Neteyam isn't a picky eater per se, but he is very particular---oh who the fuck am I kidding this kid refuses to eat anything but banana baby food voluntarily good luck with that Jake. Eventually Jake manages to weasel in plum baby food too (sticking to the fruit theme I see) but that is it. (I just picture this man in tears trying to get Neteyam to try some peas or a chocolate bar or "something, Neteyam, anything".)

Spider

Spider enters the scene a little before Kiri is born, I like to think. He's already around a year and a half when he's plopped into Norm's lap as a temporary placement while they scramble to find him a more permanent home.

It starts out with Jake agreeing to watch the little guy while Norm does science-y stuff, but quickly Jake finds himself getting attached. Spider is just such a sweet, lively baby who's curious about everything around him, especially Neteyam.

Like seriously, baby Spider is full-on fascinated with his siblings, starting of course with Neteyam. Whenever he sees the boy, he'll squeal excitedly and make hand gestures as if to say "bring him closer!" and it's just the most adorable thing Jake has ever seen.

Wherever Neteyam is set down, Spider will make his way to him no matter what is in the way. He can't walk on his own completely yet, but he is very good at walking by holding on to furniture and other such things. As long has he can pull himself up, this dude is getting places.

Jake learns very quickly to either 1) watch Spider like a hawk at all times or 2) but Neteyam close by and let his charming baby work his magic in getting Spider's full attention.

Spider isn't picky (something that relieves Jake greatly) and will eat pretty much whatever Jake hands him, though Jake quickly learns that yogurt is his favorite.

Spider has a strange fascination with fairy lights, too. He gets a kick out of when they change color and it provides hours of entertainment as long as Neteyam is near as well, allowing Jake to get various things done with little concern. Spider especially likes it when the lights turn red and he always turns to babble nonsense at Jake when they do, most notably being "no no no!" but in, like, a happy way? Jake isn't sure if Spider understands the true meaning of the word yet, which actually concerns him for a little until Spider makes it very clear one day that he is not fond of baths with many no no no's.

Eventually Neytiri can't help but become fond of Spider as well. It starts when Norm needs someone to watch him on a Sunday but Jake can't because Sunday is the day he and Neytiri decided would be his break day, a time away from the kids and house to just relax, so he's at the beach. She reluctantly agrees to take Spider as a favor to Norm, seeing how desperate the man is and also not wanting to interrupt Jake's relaxing day out.

It doesn't get off to a great start. Spider seems perplexed when he realizes that Jake isn't at the house due to the fact that at this point he's been spending Monday through Friday with Jake and Neteyam (along with some Saturdays), and this is followed swiftly by agitation. He isn't a loud crier like Neteyam, but he might just be worse anyways because Jesus does that kid squirm. He spends the first hour whining and squirming and pushing at Neytiri as if to try and get her to put him down. Neteyam calms him considerably, but he's still fussy and babbling "no!" over and over again, along with the occasional break in pattern to sprinkle in some variety.

Neytiri cracks and texts Jake asking what to do, and when Jake asks if she's tried the fairy lights she realizes she hasn't and gives it a try. Spider's whining ceases instantly, replaced by giggles.

After that it's easier, and Neytiri puts on Cars and makes sure that they're both situated safely before going to the kitchen to grab a smoothie and then comes to sit on the couch. When a little hand comes to rest on her knee she looks down and sees Spider looking up at her curiously.

He then proceeds to reach out and ask "eat?" and how did Neytiri not notice how cute he is with his sunshine curls and cornflower eyes and chubby little cheeks and okay maybe she's beginning to understand why her husband is fond of this child.

(She lets Spider try the smoothie, btw.)

The day Norm has to take Spider to his more permanent foster placement, Jake and Neytiri come with and Jake has like a whole list of dos and don'ts and has brought all of the things Spider likes and is all like "and remember, he's super easy to give a bath to so long as you sing him the tiny turtle song while you put him in the tub. Oh, also he loves yogurt but especially the key-lime pie yogurt. And lemon, too! You know what, he likes citrus in general. Don't forget that his favorite color is red! I packed a pair of red pjs in there, they're his favorite, we got them for him when we went to the mall that one time. Also, so long as you feed him a good time before you put him to bed he should go down just fine, just make sure you don't---" and Neytiri's all like "ma Jake I think they get it," only then she begins her own lecture on how he likes it if you put ice in his apple juice and to never give him chocolate because it makes him hyper and don't bother with baby gates because that shit doesn't work and soon enough they realize that, hey, this might be our baby now.

Kiri

She's born a little before Lo'ak. Definitely a spring baby.

The quietest baby you will ever fucking know. When she was born she was so quiet that the doctors were genuinely worried for a moment that she'd been stillborn.

Spider loves her immediately, to absolutely nobody's surprise. A good portion of Kiri's early days are spent being babbled to by Spider endlessly.

Unlike Neteyam, Kiri is a total mama's girl and gets all grumpy when Neytiri leaves the room unless she's sleeping when Neytiri leaves, then for some reason it's all good like? Jake will never understand. Eventually, however, this becomes a Mo'at thing. Very quickly Mo'at and her become one another's favorites and Mo'at will often find the most absurd reason to come see her.

Neytiri sings to her and takes her out to the backyard to lay on the grass and I swear this baby loves grass more than she loves the warmth of her own home.

Kiri loves carrot and pea baby food, much to Jake's surprise. Sure, Spider isn't a picky eater, but the kid was by no means a lover of vegetables. He'd eat them, but never pick them. And Neteyam? Hell, getting that baby to eat something more than plums and bananas was something he considered a win. So a child who actively eats veggies? Fucking finally.

Very interested in all of the plants around their house. Nothing else to be said. She just sort of looks at them in that weird way that only babies can look at something.

She has this purple blanket that Neytiri made for her herself and she will. not. sleep without it. Ever. She won't cry or anything like that if she doesn't have it, but you best bet that she will not be doing much of anything else either.

Whenever she has it she's asleep like 90% of the time. Jake's kind of confused actually because neither Neteyam nor Spider slept as much as she does.

Over all, Kiri is probably the chillest of the Sullys as a baby. Not very demanding, not very easy to upset, and doesn't make things difficult most days.

Lo'ak

Neytiri's hardest pregnancy for sure. She was puking, sick, huge, and could hardly keep anything down at all. The only two things Neytiri managed to keep down throughout her whole pregnancy without puking it up at least once was orange juice (extra pulpy) and Domino's barbeque pizza, and you best bet that got old quick.

Thankfully, the birth went smoothly. He was for sure born in early, early summer---like the time when it's still cooler and sort of rainy but also sunny at the same time.

I don't want to go so far as to say that Lo'ak was a demon-baby, but this child definitely gave Jake a run for his money. One minute he likes something and wants it, the next minute how dare you even so much as think about trying to feed that poison to him. One minute he loves being held, the next minute he's screaming and tears are falling and he hates you. With Jake he was like this all of the time. With Neytiri he was better, but still fussy.

I'm convinced that him and Neteyam were, like, so close when they were little and the only person that Lo'ak was an absolute angel to was in fact little one-year-old Neteyam. Whenever Neteyam was around he would smile and giggle and try to get closer. I swear, even as a baby Neteyam's charm was unparalleled.

Lo'ak has this binky that he had with him almost 24/7. Without it he was even more. . . er, challenging, than usual. And teething hit him hard as well. The amount of teething toys and biscuits this poor family had to go through, I swear.

Lo'ak, unlike the others, did not take to solids very well at first. The struggle to get this child to eat something, anything, that wasn't breast milk was so real you don't even know. Jake just let Neytiri take care of this one, it was clear he wasn't going to get anywhere. How she managed to get him to eat, Jake will never know (it was cinnamon applesauce, she coerced him with cinnamon applesauce).

Lo'ak had this particularly fun phase where he liked pulling on pretty much anything within reach and this led to him almost getting himself killed multiple times.

Whenever Neteyam cried, Lo'ak cried. Whenever Neteyam laughed, Lo'ak laughed. Sometimes when he was particularly exhausted Jake would do his best to get Neteyam in a good mood because if Neteyam was in a good mood, so was Lo'ak.

Despite how difficult Lo'ak could be,  there were these times when he would just cry and cry until Jake picked him up, and then he would just fall asleep while Jake held him. As much as Jake hated to admit it, it felt nice to walk around the house with a sleeping Lo'ak tucked to his chest.

Neytiri would often cook with Lo'ak strapped to her. He was her "little taste-tester".

I'm sorry this got so long my brain knows no bounds I swear I go so overboard sometimes 😭 Tuk isn't in this one because in my head I'm going chronologically btw.

I don't even think there is anything to add, anon. Just know I am crying?? Thank you so much for this genuine gift you have given me.

I LOVEEEE stay at home wheelchair dad Jake Sully he means the entire world to me. Jake being convinced Neytiri was joking about being pregnant??? Obsessed. WANTING TO TALK TO TOMMY?? Dead. FOSTER DAD NORM?? You can't convince me Jake and Norm didn't become friends through the foster system they were both in okay okay. And Norm and Tommy connected over their science shit and Jake was always trying to keep them from getting bullied too hard lol. Norm is a foster parent because he believes in fixing the system through it, Jake is more disillusioned. He was all skeptical of the idea at first, but boy did he get attached to Spider quickly. Neytiri and Jake's Spider speech kills me I'll die real tears. They're like oh shit actually... you can't have him. And the days before they can petition the court about it? So sad. Neteyam is a mess without his buddy. Kiri's vibes are simply flawless, and I love Mo'at making shit up to be there lol. DEMON BABY LO'AK, iconic, please. He tries to die so often. They have to baby proof the baby proofing on the house.

Please anon, this made my week, definitely send more.

#wow #amazing #gotta step up my headcanon game #jake sully #neytiri sully #jeytiri #neteyam sully #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #spider sully #kiri sully #lo'ak sully #norm spellman #mo'at #tommy sully #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron) #we are mindmelding get in #sully family #modern au (legs jake! edition)

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 29 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

Author's note: Hello everyone, sorry this chapter is a bit late! I got caught up with a few things at home. As promised here is a new chapter of enticing. Happy reading. 

word count: 1.6K

— all chapters of enticing —

Y/N stood in Gran station with a heavy heart as she waited for her mother to arrive from Philadelphia and to say that she was nervous was an understatement. She hadn’t seen her in so long. Y/N also needed to apologize for cutting her off her life so abruptly, and she was planning on it. She just didn’t know where to start.

Y/N smiled at her from warm away and waved. It was easy to spot her. Elizabeth and Y/N had the same color hair, same doe eyes, and same nose. It was as if Elizabeth had procreated with herself and not with her father. She was terribly similar to her mom as opposed to her little sister.

“Hey, you,” Elizabeth said as she dropped her bag and pulled her into a tight hug. Y/N hugged her back immediately and felt profound peace. She had missed her mother too much. She just wanted to make amends with her and wanted to share with her the news. Y/N was anxious. She was scared that her mother would turn her back on her especially now that she was pregnant and when she needed her the most.

“Hey Mom” She sniffed as they pulled away from each other.

“You look beautiful.” Elizabeth held her hands, “I’ve missed you” She admitted. Elizabeth knew that what had happened that night had been partially her fault. She knew that she never again should choose sides. She regretted it, especially after seeing the type of girl that her youngest daughter had developed into. She was very spoiled and felt very entitled just like Y/N had said that night.

“So do you! Come on let’s get something to eat.” Y/N hooked her arm with hers as they exited the train station.

It was a very sunny, autumn day in Manhattan, and even though the sun shone brightly, it was pretty cool due to the cold wind. Y/N decided to take Elizabeth to a small Italian restaurant by the apartment. She had been there before with Patrick, long before she was hired in the Styles’ household. Her mouth watered when thinking about their bruschetta and chicken Alfredo pasta.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Elizabeth asked after they had ordered their drinks and food.

“Yes” Y/N cleared her throat, “I just think we should first talk about what happened that night. I think it would be good for us to dissect it a bit, so we can move on”.  She explained her reasoning just as the waiter came back with their drinks and a basket of complimentary bread.

“That’s very mature of you. Let’s talk about it.”

“I’ll like to start with apologizing. It wasn’t my place to judge you or your way of parenting. I know that you are doing your best Violet, especially after Dad passed away and I moved away. I-I’m also sorry for cutting you out of my life, so abruptly and not writing or calling. I can only imagine how hard it must have all been for you.” Elizabeth’s eyes watered as she remembered the night after the flight that she spent crying. The remorse of kicking her daughter out of the house on Christmas night, ate her away every night. “Please don’t cry because I will cry too”.

“I want to apologize for kicking you out that night and for siding with your sister. I’m your mother I should have known better, and I should have handled the situation better. I certainly shouldn’t have sided with your sister. I also understand now what you were trying to say that night.  Most importantly, I accept your apology. I just want us to move forward and not look back.” Y/N agreed with Elizabeth as she dried her tears with a napkin. “I am happy you called and reached out. I didn’t do it sooner not because I didn’t miss you. I missed you terribly. I just didn’t call you because I was too proud. I’m sorry”.

Y/N reached out and held her hand over and across the table. She could tell that it had hurt her even more than it had hurt her. She wanted to take the pain all away. Elizabeth was everything that Y/N had. The only family that she had left after her father had passed away. She was her pillar, which she desperately needed now.

“I love you.”

“I love you more princess” Elizabeth smiled through her tears. She inhaled and exhaled loudly, feeling an immense weight off her shoulders. “I feel good”.  She giggled and Y/N wished that it stayed that way and that she began feeling better after she told her. “Now. Tell me! I am dying here”.

“Mom —” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, and she choked up. She couldn’t believe the words that were about to leave her lips. “I am pregnant” she revealed.

Elizabeth wasn’t a woman that masked her emotions. She was a very blunt woman and preferred to apologize for saying aloud her thoughts and bottling them in and lying to the people she loved. She wasn’t surprised. From the tone that Y/N had called her that morning, she had supposed news just as big as this one.  Elizabeth was her mother. She could easily read her. For a second Elizabeth thought that Y/N was incredibly sick and that’s why she was calling to make amends. The last time that she had received the news in the same matter had been when Y/N’s father found out that he had cancer. After someone in the family dies from cancer. Every other piece of news becomes a walk in the park. She was relieved.

“Alright,” She nodded and took a sip out of her red wine. “How far along are you?”

“3 weeks? I am not that sure. I took one of those pregnancy tests at home” Y/N explained as she studied her face carefully, still scared that she would flip.

“First thing first we need to find an obstetrician and make you an appointment with them.” She reached out to her pursed and pulled out the red leather journal that she always carried with herself ever since Y/N was a little girl. She wrote important things on it and her thoughts which explained why she had hundredths at home. “Do you or the father have someone, particularly in mind?”

Y/N frantically shook her head at her mother.

“We also need to get your prenatal vitamins, but I am sure the doctor will prescribe you specific ones,” She wrote in her journal. “I guess we could see if my obstetrician can fit you in.” Elizabeth sighed as she thought of all the different things that her daughter would have to do to get prepared. “Is there something else that I should know? Who and where is the father?”

“I lost my job, and the father doesn’t know, and I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Why?” Elizabeth quickly asked, surprised by the choice that she had already taken. “Is he a married man? Is he an abuser? Why?”

“He already has a baby. He won’t want this one” Y/N frowned, “I don’t want him to reject the baby”.

“And this is just an assumption, honey?”

“I know him, Mom. He is just going to turn us away.”

“You are making a big mistake, Y/N. You are possibly depriving him of getting to know his child and raising him. I support you either way, but as a mother, it is my job to tell you that you could live with the consequences for the rest of your life, and they will only get worse” Elizabeth warned her, she didn’t know the mystery man, but he deserved to know. She knew that what his daughter was doing was wrong.

Y/N nodded and wiped her tears.

“I understand, and I’ll think about it” She nodded trying to compromise. “Anyway, enough about me! How is violet? A senior now, right?” Y/N asked just as their food was being served.

“She is fine. She has proven to be exceedingly difficult. She says she doesn’t want to go to college. I’ve had to stop her from dropping out before graduation.”  Y/N couldn’t believe what her mother was telling her about her youngest sister, but just as she was about to say something her phone interrupted them.

“Hello?” It was an incoming call, with no caller ID.

“Y/N. William here. I am finally able to get a hold of you. How are you?”

“Hey, William. Fine. You?” She had thought that it was an automated message and not one of Harry’s close friends. If she had known that it was William, then she wouldn’t have answered the call. She just hoped that he wasn’t calling to let her know something about Harry. She didn’t want to know anything.

“Pretty good” He shared, and it was quiet for a few seconds, “I am calling in regard to your job.”

“What about it? Is this about Harry? Because —”

“This call has nothing to do with Harry” William abruptly interrupted her “I am calling about the contract that you signed to work with us Y/N. I am calling to let you know that your job is still waiting for you and just to get an estimate as to when you can come in to start.” Click below and join our community on Patreon if you wish to continue reading Enticing and get access to 10 more chapters.

TAGLIST: @0oolookitsme, @happycupcakeenthusiast, @kennedywxlsh, @hsfics, @stylesbrock, @cuddlingwithharry, @sucker4angtt, @bluemoonedwings, @cherriesrae, @vornilla, @mellamolayla, @harryscurls21, @stilesissaved, @be-with-me-so-happily, @harryssattelitestomper, @jerseygirlinca, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @lomlolivia, @stylesfever, @daphnesutton

#harry imagine #harry imagines #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x oc #harry x nanny #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles love on tour #harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x nanny #harry blurb #harry angst #harry fluff #harry one shot #harry smut #harry styles blurb #hrry styles angst #harry styles fluff

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Impossible Man ✨ 1. The Deathwatch Beetle ✨

Modern Day Detective! Din Djarin x Witch! Reader (Soulmates AU)

Series Masterlist

Summary: For someone being born into a magical family, a curse placed on the women of your bloodline means you have mostly avoided witchcraft and its calling for the majority of your life. After a life-altering tragedy, you turn your back on your family and your gift and seek out a more normal, boring existence, devoid of magic, and mostly, of love. What happens when the ghosts of your past threaten your peaceful existence and you are forced to reconcile all that you have lost? Will you let the people you have abandoned in your past life back into your heart? Will the appearance of an impossible man you have unknowingly cursed yourself break the chains of love? Will you let him?

Chapter Rating: M? (for now)

Chapter Warnings: Magical realism, implied mention of suicide, reader and her family are cursed, implied (minor) character death, (some) men are the worst, mentions of violence

A/N: Oh, Hello there.

For Halloween this year, I decided that I wanted to write a little 3-part story featuring my favorite Pedro boy, ✨Din Djarin✨. Inspired by my favorite Halloween-ish movie, Practical Magic, the story follows a Modern Day Detective Din, and our (reluctant) Witchy Reader. This story is not a complete retelling of PM, but a mishmash of other films that I love and cherish. If you're able to spot some of these films, I'll gift you a virtual Halloween candy treat! Happy Halloween, everyone!

Peep the (main canon storyline) Star Wars cameo!

Banner by @chiriwritesstuff ✨ Dividers by @saradika

Word Count: 3.2K

The first time you heard of the deathwatch beetle, you were eight years old.

The Victorian-style house that sat along the edge of Puget Sound was a whimsical sort, with its white picket fence adorned with creeping ivy, its single turret, a spire with the shape of a star on top of it, like a star on a Christmas tree. It had belonged to your family for decades - and was always kept in the same manner as when it was built. It was the home that your mother was raised in, and her mother before her, the house being passed down through each generation. You remember the summers you spent with your Aunt Fennic and Omera, taking the ferry from the port at Capitol Hill to Bainbridge Island, your sister Violet - Vi, for short - with her hands intertwined with yours. Three hundred and sixty-seven days younger than you, and every bit your opposite - if you were the match, then she was the flame; she was light, embodied to your infinite darkness. You would wear braids in your hair and fairy wings as you ran down the corridors of the house, playing hide-and-seek and hoping that you wouldn't get lost in the vastness of it. It was your beacon of light and solace, always welcoming. Now, as you hold your sister's hand while walking up to the porch, dressed in black, eyes still puffy and swollen and lined with tears, your aunts standing side by side, already expecting you both - it had finally become home.

"In this house," your aunt Fennic starts, grabbing the suitcase out of your hands as your aunt Omera bends to pick up Vi, "We will eat chocolate cake for breakfast and not worry about silly little things like bedtimes and brushing our teeth." You chuckle as she winks and leads the two of you inside.

Later that night, as Omera tucked you into bed, Vi having fallen asleep only moments before, she smiled as she kissed your forehead. "We're so happy you're with us, Starshine."

You silently nod, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you try to hide the discomfort of being in a new place, despite having been here so many times before. You look down at your hands, blinking away the tears that were begging to come out. "Aunt Omera, did Daddy die because of the curse?"

She gives you a sad smile. "Yes, Baby, he did." She strokes your cheek with her thumb, wiping away your tears.

"Your mother knew the moment she heard the click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle beckoning for your father's life... she knew that day that he was doomed to die. Every person who falls in love with any of the women of our bloodline is resigned to the same fate."

"Is that why Mommy died? Because of a broken heart?"

Omera's face softens as she brushes your hair away from your eyes. "Yes, my darling girl, she did. She couldn't imagine life without your father..." She pulls the covers over you. "…but that's how you came to live with us, and we will raise you the best way we know how."

You smile sadly, settling yourself deeper into the covers. "Why is our family cursed, Auntie?"

"It was because of your ancestor, Maria."

"Was she a witch?"

"Yes, the first in our family. And you are the most recent in a long and distinguished line."

"What happened to her?"

"Well, my Starshine, she fell in love. She fell in love with a man, her soulmate... but not everyone was happy about it. There was another man, an evil man, who had loved Maria from afar. He demanded that she be with him, and when she refused, he killed her lover in cold blood."

You bite your lip, nodding to yourself as you try to understand. "… but how does that make us cursed?"

"Well," Omera says, "Maria didn't take her lover's death kindly. With her powers, she managed to encase the evil man in a tomb full of beetles, eating him alive. However, before he died, he cursed the entirety of our female bloodline. This curse dooms any being who dares to love us, but it also ensures that we will always find our soulmate. Throughout the years, the appearance of the deathwatch beetle - the same one that consumed the man - is seen as a warning bell. The moment you hear the click, click, click of the beetle, there is nothing you can do to stop the curse. We have carried the weight of this burden for hundreds of years."

"I wish that I never find my soulmate," you whisper, determination etched on your 8-year-old face. "I don't want anyone to die because of me, and I don't want to die of a broken heart!"

Omera looks at you sadly as she kisses your forehead. "Oh, my sweet Starshine." She reaches over to turn off your bedside lamp, then kisses Vi before walking to your door, locking eyes with you, nodding as she turns away, leaving you in complete darkness.

"You will."

“He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a horse backwards.”  You gather the petals of the flower and place it in the bowl, reading the words you have written in your diary aloud, your fingers grazing the page.

“What are you doing, Starshine?” Vi asks from behind you, walking into the greenhouse as she pets Boba the house cat.

“I’m summoning a true love spell. Amas Veritas. Also known as a Soulmates calling.” You pull a rose petal, inspecting it as you turn to your sister. “He can flip pancakes in the air. He will be marvelously kind… and his favorite shape will be a star… and he’ll have a birthmark on him, the shape of a… bullseye.”

“… I thought you didn’t want to find your soulmate? I heard you, last night. When you were talking to Aunt Omera.” She picks up your diary and flips through the pages, her hip resting on the table as you finish gathering the rest of the ingredients, stirring it gently with your hands.

“That’s the point, Vi. The guy I dreamed of? My soulmate? He doesn’t exist… and if he doesn’t exist, I won’t die of a broken heart.”

You walk out and your sister follows, making your way to the balcony as you hold the bowl out into the night sky. Vi gasps as the petals start to float out of the bowl, flowing out like a waft of smoke, fluttering in the air, flying out into the distance, a small smile forming as you look out into the sky.

"Goodnight, Impossible Man." 

The first time you heard the ominous click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle, you were 28 years old.

It was in the dead of night, the clicking noise faint and almost unnoticeable, its distinctive chirps being drowned out by the idle sounds of the crickets and the gently blowing wind.

Click, click, click.

Your eyes open at that, suddenly alert. You shoot up from where you lay, Ben's still form beside you still in deep sleep. You breathe deeply, pushing your hair out of your face as you scan the room, looking for the source of the subtle clicking sound that roused you from your sleep. "Baby," Ben murmurs into his pillow, his eyes half open. "What are you doing up? It's late. Go back to sleep." He whispers, his arm pulling yours gently as you ease yourself back onto his chest, the deep thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat reverberating throughout your body, a reminder that he’s still very much alive. You sigh, pressing a chase kiss on his sternum. "I thought I heard something," you reply, his body shifting as he cages you in, his chin resting on the top of your head. "It's just the wind, Starshine. Go back to sleep," he continues, his fingers gently drawing small circles on your back. "I love you," he finally whispers before his breathing evens, his soft snores lulling you back to sleep.

A few hours later, you’re roused from your sleep once more as Ben's phone starts to chime. You feel his arm reaching out blindly for his phone on the nightstand, a slight groan rumbling from his chest as he squints at the screen.

"Good Morning, baby," Ben whispers in your ear, his voice heavy with sleep. "I have to get up, but you go back to sleep." You feel his breath on your cheeks as he presses a kiss to them, a faint smile forming as he embraces you, the feeling of his body stretching against yours as he wakes. He kisses your sleepy head as he rises out of bed, sitting on the edge of it as he caresses your half-sleeping form. He cracks his neck and silently pads himself into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting as you burrow yourself deeper into the covers, your body slowly shifting to where his body was only a moment ago, relishing in the residual warmth of your lover it still contains. You wedge your nose into the indent of his pillow, smiling as you inhale his scent. You lay there until you hear the tell-tale sound of the shower shutting off. Your eyes adjust to the warm orange light of the bathroom as he walks out, a towel half slung onto his form as he walks into the closet, pulling on his suit as he dresses for the day, his faint silhouette shuffling in the light of early dawn.

"Ben," you say softly as he’s beginning to pull on his socks. "It’s early. Come back to bed." You plead with him, your arms outstretched, making grabby hands, beckoning out for him.

"Djarin messaged me saying he has a lead. I’m heading over to meet with him now," He walks over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he puts his wingtip loafers on. "We’ve been at a stalemate for months now, baby. I’ll make it up to you, maybe we could go back to Montauk after I close this case. Gideon is so close, I’m finally closing in on him, I can feel it."

You nod as you reach out to rub his back. "Okay. You owe me, though."

He chuckles at that, the corners of his cheeks lifting as he gives you a rare smile. "No, Djarin owes me because I must be insane to leave my beautiful wife all alone. It’s criminal." He smirks as he bends over to kiss you, his lips tracing the side of your jaw.

"I have to go," he whispers into your ear as he kisses your head. "I’ll see you after work, ok? Might be a late night, this case has been killing me," he continues, grabbing his briefcase perched against his nightstand. He hovers by the doorframe, smiling as he turns to leave.

"I love you, Starshine."

He’s gone by the time you whisper those three little words back out into the ether.

Click, click, click. Click, click, CLICK.

Your eyes shoot open once again, the room now bathed in the mid-morning light. You scramble out of bed.

No, you think. No, no, no, NO.

You pace around your room nervously, the clicking sound from the night echoing into the recesses of your brain. You scan the room for the source of your dread, your body shivering in fear. You run to the opposite side of the room, scanning every nook and cranny, every crevice and surface. "Where are you, fucker?" you think to yourself.

Click, click, click.

You realize the sound is coming from beneath you, your eyes quickly shifting to where your feet are planted on the old floorboards of your shared apartment. It’s an old apartment in the heart of Queen Anne, one of those charming wartime-era duplexes painted in pink with its charming crown molding and black and white checkered tiles in the kitchen. Your dream home, you once thought to yourself, Vi’s unit on the other side, her bedroom wall sharing your own - an inheritance you both shared after your mother died all those years ago.

Your mother.

Your heart shudders at her memory, the tears forming as you take another deep breath. You forcibly repress and push those memories aside, centering yourself as you remind yourself of the current problem on your hands. You look below you once again, the gaps of the aged wood showing the earth below. You focus on the gaps, your eyes scanning frantically until you see it - the silhouette of the deathwatch beetle, its obsidian shiny armor scampering away from you, as if it finally acknowledges your presence. You dive onto the floor in its direction, your eyes inspecting the gaps of the floorboards, your line of sight aligning with the death beetle once more.

You scamper back onto your feet hurriedly, running out of your bedroom into the hallway, your feet pounding heavily on the floor as you make your way to the hallway closet, wrenching the door open with hurried force as you scan for the ancient toolbox on the shelf. You yank the rusted toolbox out, spilling its contents onto the floor, not caring one bit about the mess that you’re making. Grabbing a flathead screwdriver, you hurry back into the bedroom, following the now-insistent clicking of the beetle. It managed to make its way above ground, scampering away as you furiously head towards it. It hurriedly makes its way across the way of the floorboards, you diving once again towards it, your hand stretched out as you try to slam onto it. The beetle is quicker and more agile than you, shimmying away from your hand as it falls through the crack of the floorboard. You lay your cheek on the cold floor as you pound on it furiously, willing the beetle to click as you listen intently for it. "This can’t be!" You whisper to yourself, your breath choking out in a panic.

"FUCK!" You scream in agony, grabbing the screwdriver that lay beside you. You wedge it against the edge of the floorboards, prying it open as you scan for the beetle. You start to pry off the boards around you until you make a sizeable gap for you to jump into, throwing the screwdriver aside and forcibly pry more floorboards until they lay haphazardly amongst each other in piles, completely surrounding you as you breathe heavily, the tears flowing freely on your face.

"Don’t do this to me!" You cry out, gasping for air as you crawl into the earth below, your nightgown now soiled as you frantically search around you. The clicking sound is becoming more frequent and louder, its eerie cadence becoming the only thing you can hear in your mind. "Come on!" You scream. "Please, don’t do this to me, not now, not him…. PLEASE! Haven’t you taken enough from me?! Haven’t we shed enough blood? Oh god…" You plead, your voice croaking out in desperation. You suddenly sit in a daze, your hair disheveled, the tears refusing to cease as your heart feels like it’s about to explode in your chest from pure exhaustion, from sheer adrenaline. It's then you realize that you’re suddenly surrounded by silence. You blink, scanning the room once more, the clicks having stopped and the deathwatch beetle nowhere to be found. You breathe a sigh of relief until suddenly the clicks ring out fast and furiously, a crescendo of fear and pain building within you until it ceases once more. You suddenly shudder, your body jolting violently, a single tear falling down the slopes of your face.

You’re still sitting there hours later, as the day has turned into night when your phone suddenly rings in the distance. You slowly climb out of the floor as you make your way to your dresser, silently picking up the phone and answering it, not bothering to check who it is, your hands trembling in fear.

"Ben?" You whisper shakily.

"Hey Starshine, it’s me, Din. Din Djarin?" You hear a deep sigh on the line. "...Are you there?"

"Listen. I’m going to need you to come down to the station… I’m sorry… it’s… it’s Ben." You hear him take a harsh breath as he speaks again. "I’m so sorry, Starshine…." His voice fades as your phone slips out of your grasp, the Seattle Police contact illuminating the screen as it hits the ground, his voice cutting through the silence as the sob you’ve been holding in erupts deep within your chest, you begin to wail and scream, falling to your knees.

"It was the curse, wasn’t it?" You scream as you storm into your aunt's house later that night, pacing frantically in the kitchen. “Because I loved him so much!”

Your aunts slowly walk into the room hesitantly, looking at your shaking frame nervously.

It’s your aunt Fennic who speaks first.

“We had no idea… when we cast that spell…”

“What spell?” You ask as your eyes shift between your two aunts, Omera’s eyes downcast in shame. “What are you talking about?!" She finally looks at you, her eyes filled with tears as she glances at her sister.

“Oh…” you shudder. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t… my own flesh and blood...”

“You were so lonely, Starshine… we just… wanted to give you a little push… we didn’t expect you to fall in love.”

“WELL, I DID!” You gasp, grasping your chest as you walk out, grabbing the spell book from the other room, slamming it onto the kitchen counter as you frantically flip through the pages. “And I want him back!”

“You brought him into my life, and I want you to bring him back!” You say as you continue to flip through the pages. “I’ve never asked you for anything, I’ve never asked you for spells but do this! I know you can, I know you can bring him back!”

“We won’t do this” Omera speaks up as she approaches you. “We can’t do this” Fennic adds, crossing her arms.

“I know you can! I remember I found it here…” your fingers reading through the spell “I found the spell when… when mommy and daddy died.”

“Even if we did bring him back” Fennic starts, looking at Omera “… it wouldn’t be Ben.”

“… it would be something else, something dark and unnatural” Omera adds, reaching out to you.

“I DONT CARE WHAT HE COMES BACK AS, AS LONG AS HE COMES BACK… as long as he comes back” your voice breaks as you suddenly start to sob. “Please! Please do this for me!” You sob as you collapse onto the spell book, looking at your aunts pleadingly. “Please? PLEASE?!” You cover your mouth as you fall to your knees, Omera catching you as you cry onto her chest.

“I’m so sorry, Starshine.” She whispers as she strokes your back, looking at her sister as she turns to walk away.

The first time you hear the ominous click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle is the day you swear to yourself that you will never, ever fall in love again.

Authors Bits:

If you guessed that Ben was Ben Solo, you were right. I admit that I was once a Reylo - not so much now, but back in the day, so including him in this story was a treat... also, because Adam Driver <3.

Speaking about Ben, it's safe to say he's alluded to his death several times to Starshine, and there's several hints that I try to convey throughout. I'll miss our Benji, but we all know what we want, and he's definitely coming...

Taglist: @strawberri-blonde

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #modern din djarin #din djarin/reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x original female character #A smol Ben Solo Cameo #ben solo x reader #Squint and you might miss Ben Solo #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction

[jaegonsmoon]

Jacaerys began to suspect that the two years old Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are his children after servants started whispering that Jaehaerys looks a just like him as a toddler, and pointing out the locks of dark hair that Jaehaera has. But he doesn't understand how the children can be his, he never slept with Helaena. But sudlently everything gets weirder when he remembers sharing a bed with his uncle after getting drunk three years ago.

Alicent sometimes spent hours watching her grandchildren closely. Every little change they had each week, and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach with each noticeable one.

She remembers the relief she’d felt when the twins had been born and a mop of soft silver curls adorned their little heads. The Gods had been merciful.

But they were toddlers now and Jaehaera, her precious granddaughter, with beautiful violet eyes, fair skin and soft silver curls. A carbon copy of her aunt, yet not the one she called daughter. She looked so much like Rhaenyra when they were kids, it was a bit difficult to watch sometimes. But it had gotten worse. It started with a single strand of hair when the girl was but a few months old. Now at almost two years of age, Jaehaera’s hair was an ombré colour, dark brown slowly eating the silver away.

Alicent knew her first son had been different since the moment he was born. He had inherited all the qualities of those sinful ancestors of theirs. In the ways of Old Valyria, where males were sometimes born with both sexes, able to bear children and continue the (im)purity of their bloodlines by all means. The Targaryens and Velaryons had such cases in their intertwined, inbred, bloodlines, though it had become a rarity as the decades passed.

Alicent had been cursed with a firstborn with such traits. And it didn’t help that Aegon grew to be the way he was. Such an ungrateful libertine, whoring himself out at every opportunity he got.

So when her son’s belly started to swell a few years back, Alicent wasn’t surprised when it didn’t turn out to be parasites. She had been mad, furious. Aegon took the situation like Aegon takes everything else; a joke. Viserys had been fascinated, because of course he had, that his son could carry children of his own. He didn’t seem to care about the babe’s paternity, again—of course he hadn’t, he was used to it after his whore of a daughter had brought three bastards into this world already.

Viserys might had not cared, but Alicent did. Dignity and honour would prevail as long as she walked those cursed halls. So she wed Aegon to Helaena and tagged the pregnancy on her daughter, making up the story that she was having a difficult pregnancy and had been bedridden, and that Aegon worried for his sister-wife wouldn’t leave her side. It had worked well. Until the children turned two and the curse of their true identity was leaking through.

And Alicent knew. She had known for a long time. Aegon had been awfully quiet about who had knocked him up. Nothing made him break, and that could only mean one thing.

A mother always knows.

Her son had bore Rhaenyra’s bastard two more.

#idk why but alicent pov #i started this MONTHS ago and it’s been on my drafts since #jsm old asks release #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #aegon x jacaerys #jaegon #jacegon #jacegon fanfic

[your-old-sins-tournament]

12 YEAR OLD OCS; SIDE A

Cupid [@onitekka] (she/her)

Cupid is like every normal middle school student, a pink-haired half-vampire totally not crushing on her girl best friend, seemingly born from every weird twelve year olds innate wish: make a video game.

Cupid journeys through the depths of hell to rescue her "girl best friend" (very subtle) from the evil Dark Overlord Xanata, who sealed her best friend into a crystal because she Also wants to be Cupid's "girl best friend".

she boasts a variety of super cool barely vampire related attacks that involve just straight up yelling at enemies! this girl has a sonic screech that can shatter glass, bulletproof bat wings, and a literal gun! you can practically hear angel with a shotgun (nightcore) blasting in the background.

why is the embodiment of love a vampire? because vampires are now ostensibly fallen angels. why is she fighting hell if she's a fallen angel? because it's cool.

Description: A beginner's illustration of Cupid. she has messily coloured short pink hair with two longer strands in the front, red eyes, a fuschia top, and a green skirt. she is also wearing black boots, and part of her bat wings are coloured black as well. there is blood dripping from her mouth.

Ash [@changeling-ash] (she/her)

She is so cool. My little self insert. My baby. Epic powerful magic.

Ash was part of a secret subspecies of humans (Homo sapiens dimutus) which could shapeshift, which she used to grow huge black wings or turn into a black leopard or look like a monster to scare enemies, anything as long as her brain stayed the same size or got denser to fit smaller. When she shapeshifted she would release green and blue fire from the power of the transformation (cause she has lots of copper in her blood that burns green. To protect against cancer, you see. Shapeshifting has lots of cancer risk so copper is sooo important)

She became one by genetic engineering at 15 so the dimutus could get more soldiers and spies for a war with the demon-like psyuedos (child soldier lol). She could come back to life because she had a failsafe that would activate where she would shapeshift away the wound and her brain would jolt back online. The only way to kill a dimutus was to kill the brain.

Like other dimutus, she could also dimension hop, so she'd travel the multiverse, from tv show to tv show or to the universe with dragons or with cool landscapes. She was good with a sword and something called a bladed quarterstaff, which is basically one of those two sided lightsabers but a blade. She was mentored by one of the most powerful dimutus of the war and is super powerful too compared to other dimutus.

Propaganda from the old post

Okay time for my propaganda once more!

Ash is my girl, my baby.

She has TWO dragons. The first one is Flicker, who is strong and agile with black scales and a violet belly. Ash rides on her back and she speaks dragon at her. Her other dragon is Zephyr, who she raised from an egg and he looks like a blue sky with white patches like clouds, and random little flecks of gold scales. He's lithe and fast and so agile. She can summon them from their alternate universes by calling out "Tul Lüg" for Flicker and "Zep-iagh" for Zephyr, and they leap from portals to fight.

She can speak so many languages. The language of Dimutus is actually Modernized Latin. She knows English, Spanish, French, Latin, Italian, ASL, and has the best translators.

She made friends with a shadowy wolf companion called a Shadowlupe who accepted her as part of the pack. She runs with him in hunts as a wolf.

She can do a double backflip. Enough said.

She would fly with huge black wings, it was her favorite thing to do. Knew how to do all the tricks. She is dimension hopping miles in the air just to fall for ages, then fly at breakneck speeds. And she was terrifying in battle, she would dodge and weave and slash as she passed, an airborne killing machine.

She could give herself big springy legs to jump so high and do crazy tricks. She adapted herself to move fast, bounce and parkour her way at insane speeds. She could traverse so well.

She also did normal parkour. It was a fun challenge to try with minimal modifications. Pretended a lot of parkour POV vids were her.

She had two cats trained to infiltrate bases cause they are kitties and can fit through the vents and no one suspects the kitties. Baya was a Bengal and Shadow was a beautiful medium hair black cat.

She could also dimension hop in a way that was like astral projecting. She'd just be floatin, near invisible. She'd keep her wings in that state to pull them from the dimension fast to use them quickly. Her friends would chill there and comment to her while she was doing boring things.

She had a ragtag best friend and copilot partner Katie that was the mostest important person to her. Her brother in arms, her guy in the chair, her support, and Ash was the same to Katie. They were ride or die, and they died a lot for each other. (I basically made a QPP a decade before I myself ended up in one. Probably an early sign I was aro.)

She lost her arm sometimes, and she'd have a badass prosthetic if she couldn't shapeshift it back right away.

So much trauma from being a child soldier will come later. Her future character with me a decade later is somethin.

#cupid #ocs #polls #bracket tournament #old sins #side a #ocs you made when you were 12 tournament #ash

[newtonsheffield]

Was Edmund already dead when the boys were born? Did he meet his grandsons? Does Mary keep in contact with Anthony for updates on Ned? And Violet and Kate? Does Anthony know Tharman is dead?

I think Edmund died like 2 weeks after the twins were born. That’s how I think the timeline went. I don’t think there’s any contact from the grandparents because I don’t think they would think it was fair for Kate and Anthony not to get that time. I don’t think they agree with the plan by any stretch but I think they’re trying to respect their children’s wishes.

And no, when they meet again Anthony doesn’t know Tharman’s passed away. And he really puts his foot in it.

“My mum’s going to come and visit the boys if that’s okay?”

“Yeah of course.” Anthony nodded, “Is she not with your dad anymore?”

Kate blinked in surprise, “Oh, he… died. About two years after it all sort of… happened.”

#parent trap au #you’re losing me au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I am extremely interested in your draft/post about Downton Abbey and the timeline 👀

Important disclaimer: I was never in the fandom of the series, so I'm completely ignorant as to word of god and fanon, and might have forgotten some details of the plot as the years have passed since I watched.

*video essay voice* (bear with me) in 1980, British playwright Peter Flannery, while watching rehearsals for Henry IV, felt inspired to write his own historical epic, a Shakespearean sort of short History of his native Newcastle from the 60s to the present, interweaving the personal History of 4 "friends" with the big historical events of Britain through those years, to create a strong political narrative through them, but that was life-like enough in its everyday life details and turns as to feel real. The characters deal with their desire to change the world, achieve success, recognition, or even just survive, and experience hope and hopelessness by turns*

This theater play, called Our Friends in the North, caught the eye of the BBC, and after several back-and-forths it was adapted into 9 episodes in 1996. It was a big bet (it cost 8 million pounds to produce) and a big hit, and I do get the gut feeling that in some corner, the first season of Downton is inspired in OFITN as a concept, a sort of Our Freenemies in Yorkshire, but that its own success derailed it into a different direction, and made it Edwardian-Roaring 20s Aristofairytaleland, the same way Regency Romance tends to take place on a Regency Fairytale land full of dukes and none of the social, economical and political problems of the time.

S1 of DA hinges around the "Death of the old world" theme: it opens with its first marker (the sinking of the Titanic) and closes with the last marker (the beginning of the Great War). The central plot is that of the survival of Downton as a place and an institution -the kickstart is the death of James and Patrick aboard the Titanic, and the next heir presumptive being a middle class lawyer, an outsider to the aristocracy. The old, dying aristocracy, managed to patch up their situation by marrying rich American heiresses, like Cora, but it doesn't have any vitality for the future: the heir (Robert and Cora's son) is born dead. The question then is "can the aristocracy make a bridge with the raising professional middle class, merge with it in order to gain new life?" that's what Matthew's plotline this season is all about, specially in his growing and changing relationship with Robert and Mary (who are the epitome representatives of the aristocracy, with lady Violet): there is a small seed of aspiration that grows through the season, but gets quashed once he realizes that as much as he has grown to care for the Crowleys, they haven't really grown to care for him as anything but an uncomfortable necessity. And so he leaves. And the Great War begins. No compromise can be reached, the old world is dead.

I don't think I say anything controversial when I say that Fellowes and Downton as a series loves Mary with undying devotion; she gets a second chance at Matthew in s2 that she wouldn't have gotten IRL, and she would have kept Matthew forever if the actor didn't want out. And I think Dan Stevens wanting out (and Jessica Brown's to a certain extent), and as much as he can say within the bounds of politeness, has a lot to do with a sense that the series he signed up for was not the series he ended up being in on the follow up seasons. Matthew, who was a central character to the main plot of the series in s1, now gravitates Mary's storylines, because that pressing conflict of the inheritance is solved, and he can be disposed of as soon as he produces a male heir without causing any plot-ripples. A story about Downton the house as anchoring to class conflicts and point of connection with big events becomes a story of Mary and her relatives with Downton as a mainly aesthetic backdrop as s2 progresses (yes, yes, every once in a while some lip service is given to "money troubles" and having to downsize, but it's just... that).

As seasons progress, as well, the historical markers to open and close a season disappear, and so do... general historical events at all. The story gets atomized and more and more separated from History, and "the old world is dying" theme vanishes.

So, now, on this premise (that Downton S1 and Downton s2-6 are different animals, with different core themes and structures) where do I think a true continuation of S1 would have gone?

Mind you, I haven't plotted five series to detail, because I'm not that invested. But also it feels like DA the series itself started running out of plot after s4 anyways, so, in general lines:

The same way OFITN did (episodes were each set on a different year: 64, 66, 67, 70, 74, 79, 84, 87, 95) every series would have a time skip that would tie in with bigger scale events in Britain and the world (the end of the Great War, the Spanish Flu, the crack of 29', etc), and in my mind I would have it cover until the late 1940s: the series begins with a middle aged Robert and Cora, and ends with a middle-aged next generation.

Matthew does actually marry Lavinia, and takes William with him as they bonded in the war, and goes back to his job. They try to keep their distance from Downton, but, of course they keep getting drawn in because of the inheritance.

Matthew's marriage to Lavinia means a vital wake-up call for Mary: she -and by extension the aristocracy- cannot always get what she wants, even though her name and status carry a lot of importance. But she also experiences new freedom because her choice of husband has now no influence on the fate of the estate. I think she'd choose to travel a lot, in ways that would widen her mental horizons and change her feelings and perspective about her family. I even feel like her marrying Henry Talbot in the end makes sense; she remains ever the aristocrat (although I'd think she'd marry later, probably past her mid-30s, a spirit of the new times).

Sybil's storyline remains the same, minus death (in this scheme, the core characters that thread the timeline are the Crawley sisters AND Matthew), but she never returns to Downton to stay, and it is through her and her visits that we do get the perspectives and storylines of the process of independence for Ireland, and her complicated position as wife of an Irish man but daughter of a British earl. You can even get stories in the later years storylines like Marygold trying to run to Ireland and her aunt after WWII breaks.

A similar thing goes for Edith; if Mary is and makes the choice of aristocracy, and Sybil makes the choice of a working class life, then Edith embodies a commercial-professional upper middle class aspiration (in fact, I do think that her punching-bag status in the series has a lot to do with Fellowes derision of that class), so it makes sense for her to do most of the things she does towards her place in life; just cut some of the drama and no sudden marquess nonsense in the end. Edith and Bertie marry and remain successful editors/printers/periodical owners.

As for the house itself, of course Matthew inherits (you could set Robert's death for 1929, and then have a Lavinia inheritance save the estate after Robert's failed investments like it goes in s1). I do think this lends itself to interesting dynamics, specially with the servants, considering the aristocratic head is gone and the Great War significantly changed the self-image of the serving class, plus the return of William now in a much more privileged place; but also with Cora as the new Dowager and Lavinia as the new Lady Grantham. How do the children adapt to their new home and status? How did their parents conduct their upbringing? I think you can do a lot there (I'd assume just two children, a boy and a girl).

I do also think it'd be interesting to contrast the rising tensions in the 30s as Mary perceives them through her continental travels -I can imagine Henry Talbot joining the foreign service and getting at least obliquely involved in spy shenanigans- and Edith through her very localized work.

The Kingsmen movies play with this idea of WWI creating a generation of fathers who buried their sons and had to take their places. The Crawleys escape this by having only daughters, so I think it is fitting for Matthew and Lavinia's son to die in WWII, and for the daughter to become a war bride and move to the US, as the centre of power moves from the UK to the US.

Downton, more and more difficult to maintain as the years pass, cannot survive the economic blow of WWII, and Mathew and Lavinia, now middle aged, don't have the energy and vitality to begin again; and so they make an arrangement with the just-founded National Trust after the war ends: the main part of the house becomes a museum, but they still get a part of it to live in. I think, after a family reunion tea/party to wrap things up, you can have as a symbolic last shot, a close up of Matthew's hand as he turns over the keys to the Downton gates to the National Trust agent, CUT TO BLACK AND THE DOWNTON ABBEY THEME.

So, hm, that's pretty much it. Please do not maul me to death XD

*While I think the series was very well written, I'd hesitate to recommend it here as there was too much explicit nudity and sexual content for my taste and that of many people here. The 2022 radio adaptation seems to be faithful to the original tv series and avoid that problem, but of course you lose on the other visuals that are quite impressive (and believe me, besides some awkward wigs and make up, they really did blow up that 8 million pound budget in many ways).

#ask #dhufflebee #Downton Abbey #Downton Abbey critical #meta

[slvtforlizzie]

[jaceluke]

warning: smut

Say Yes To Heaven Pt-1

[part 2 will be on Wattpad]

wattpad: @sxarletdevil

book: jaceluke

Luke stood outside the school building waiting for the bell to ring. he often got stares from parents which didn't bother him much anymore. the bell ring and the students were released. it took a couple minutes but his daughter, Rhaella came running down screaming, "MUÑA! MUÑA! MUÑA!"

"Oh!" he yelped as his five year old daughter crashed her little arms around him. he knelt down picked her up into a hug, "hi, baby! how's my little dragon?"

"muña! I made a friend! her name is Daenys!" Rhaella beamed in happiness.

Luke tightened his hold on his daughter as they passed by parents and their children. "that's good baby! how was school?"

"it was good," she replied and looked around, "where's dad?"

Lucerys tried to ignore the stab of pain his chest at her words, "he's busy, baby. at work."

Rhaella wrapped her arms around Luke's neck and hugged him tightly. Luke took the hug from her and softly smiled. "wanna get ice cream and go to the park?"

"yes, please," Rhaella answered.

he put her down on the ground and held her hand. the sun was shinning in New York and their was a brisk of cold air. Rhaella wore jeans, with a princess T-shirt and a red cardigan over her. her long silver hair was in extravagant braids (that Luke has to do every morning). Luke was in his black business suit with red bottom heels clicking on the concrete. Lucerys hadn't changed much from his teenage years. he was still short but the heels gave him the boost. his hair was consistently cut because he didn't want to follow his families old valyria traditions. only difference from before was he now had a figure after 12 hours of a difficult birth. Rhaella luckily was born healthy. hips and thighs that were constricted in the business pants, breast that shamefully still produced milk even now, a soft and pudgey stomach.

"alright baby, you wanna go buy ice cream by yourself or do you want me to go with you?" Lucerys asked her.

"I can do it," she beamed up at him. she took off her pink backpack and gave it to him. they switched as he handed her his debt card. the ice cream shop was right across the park so Luke was able to keep an eye on her.

"Lucerys?"

he turned around seeing his older brother, Jacaerys. "hey, Jace," he smiled at him.

they both quickly hug, "how long has it been?"

"uh, like five, six years," Luke answered. it looked like Jace had been on a run, due to the joggers, T-shirt that clung to every muscle he had to showoff, and running shoes.

"yeah, yeah." he replied as he looked down at his feet, "hows Aemond?"

not this. come on.

"he's good. he's good. baela?" he asked back eyeing him up and down before settling to focus on his violet eyes.

he scoffed at the question, "she... I'll be honest she probably has a dick down her throat right now."

"dear Lord," Luke blurted out and tried to stifle the laughter threatening to escape.

"you can laugh. I'm the one who was too blind to see it," Jace told him.

"no, no, it's not funny. just the way you said it...I wasn't expecting that and especially not from your loyal wife Baela," Lucerys replied.

"yeah well how many times can you find boxers that aren't yours and letting your wife gaslight till it finally hits?" he said.

"muña, I didn't know which one you wanted so I got cookie and cream," Rhaella announced as she handed him a cup of ice cream.

"oh, thank you baby. Jace this is your niece Rhaella. Rhaella this is your uncle Jace," Luke introduced the pair.

jacaerys smiled fondly at the young girl and Rhaella blushed furiously. "do you want ice cream?" she asked him.

"no, Rhaella thank you." Jace smiled at her.

while Jace was focused on Rhaella, Luke took his time admiring every little feature of his brother. his curls tied into a bun, broad shoulders, light stubble on his face, and thick lashes. "muña, your staring," Rhaella giggled.

Lucerys cheeks flushed red as he quickly looked away, "baby go on to the slide."

Rhaella laughed as she ran off with her ice cream in hand and went to the swings. "she's precious. Aemond is a lucky man." Jace commented as they trailed behind Rhaella to a picnic table.

another stab.

"a beautiful daughter. a beautiful wife." he softly spoke. Lucerys could feel his cheeks burn with the comments and tried to ignore the intense stare his brother was giving him. "he really kept his word."

"Jace don't," Lucerys softly spoke as they got to the picnic table. his blue eyes looked at his brothers and their was no hiding the desire in both of them. even years later it was just as intoxicating as it was when they were teens.

"sorry," he said but he didn't mean. they sat in silence as they watched Rhaella swing slowly and eat her ice cream. twenty minutes had passed when she ran towards them, "uncle Jace can you push me on the swing?"

"may I?" he asked quietly to Luke.

Lucerys smiled and gave him a small nod. Rhaella wrapped her hand into jace's. it was crazy how much his hand made her look so tiny. Luke crossed one leg over the other as he watched Jace push Rhaella on the swing. the ice cream was long forgotten as Luke watched his brother. from the swing, to the jungle gym, to the slides, Jace didn't leave rhaella's side. the sun was beginning to set when Luke called it for the night.

"mommy, can Jace walk us home?" Rhaella asked.

"sweetie, Jace probably has things to do. we've already taken much of his time," Lucerys told her. her violet eyes welded with tears.

"actually, my schedule is cleared for the day. I don't mind either," Jace interjected.

I'm trying not to make a mistake Jace.

"okay, well, let's go," Luke said.

"piggy!" Rhaella screamed. Jace knelt down allowing the five years old to climb up on his back. the walk wasn't far but the definitely took their time to get there. when they did Rhaella was sound asleep and was clutching onto Jace for dear life. Luke unlocked his front door and put her backpack down before tearing her off jaces body.

"thanks Jace. for today." Lucerys thanked him.

"no problem. just don't keep Rhaella from me for too long. she's nice company," Jace replied with a softly smile as he stroked her blonde hair. Luke could feel his heart hammer against his chest at the words. desire burning in his belly as he felt Jace's hands brush over his.

"good night."

"good night, Luke."

it didn't take long to get Rhaella into bed and slowly undo her braids. he would have to wake up a bit earlier to bathe her before school.

"mommy," she softly groaned and grabbed his hand.

Lucerys softly spoke, "yes, my little dragon?"

"there's... there's a daddy-daughter dance this weekend. do you think Daddy can come?" she asked him with sleepy eyes.

"I'll ask him sweetling," he replied pressing a kiss to her temple. she smiled before closing her eyes and falling asleep. he took of her shoes and put them to the side. placing her large blanket on her and turning off the lamp, Luke descended downstairs. he sat down on the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Aemond's number.

"what Luke?" he answered aggressively.

"watch your tone." he snapped at his uncle-husband.

"what Luke?" Aemond asked again.

"there's a daddy-daughter dance this weekend. are you going to take Rhaella?" lucerys asked his dear husband.

"I can't. I'll be busy." he answered.

"you're a really shit fucking dad," lucerys spat on the phone.

"whatever Luke. I'm busy." the dial tone went through and lucerys nearly threw his phone at the wall.

fucking cunt.

he stood up from the table not wanting to eat dinner and just climb into bed. the next morning, he woke up early before his alarm. he decided to go ahead and get Rhaella ready for school. after her bath Rhaella sat on bathroom counter while lucerys pulled out hair ties, bows, hairbrushes, and other hair products.

"alright sweetling, what are we doing with your hair?" he asked.

"umm, can we do pigtails?" she asked, her violet eyes showed still much drowsiness.

"two pigtails coming up," lucerys replied.

"mommy, is daddy taking me to the dance?" she asked as Luke finished the left pigtail.

"oh, baby, I asked him and he's too busy," he told her. Rhaella looked away from the mirror to her small fingers, a pained and sad expression etched on her face. then her face lit up and gasped, "can uncle Jace take me! can you ask him? please! please, please, please, please, please mommy! ask Jace!"

lucerys softly laughed, "okay, okay. I'll ask Jace today."

Rhaella beamed in happiness as lucerys finished her other pigtail. "let's go eat," lucerys placed her down on the floor. after breakfast they drove down to the school.

"have a good day baby," Luke told her.

"bye muña! love you!" she screamed as she ran down to the school building.

"I love you!" lucerys yelled after.

lucerys arrived to Driftmark Enterprises and headed inside to his office. the blue suit and black YSL heels made him stand more than it should. Luke came from money but after his indecision years ago his mother cut him off. his grandfather, Corlys on the other hand loved him too much to just push him out of the family business. he would be the next CEO right after his father Laenor.

"claire, can you call Targaryen Industries and ask Jacaerys Targaryen to make a visit here?" lucerys told his assistant.

"right away, sir," she answered picking up her phone.

today would be a bit of a slower day but busy none the less. a soft knock and assistant poked her head in, "Jacaerys Targaryen is here to see you."

"let him in," he answered.

the door opened wider and a perfectly attired Jacaerys entered the office. the black suit and tie was much a harsher difference then the jogger and T-shirt from yesterday.

"everything alright?" Jace asked as he sat down in the leather seat in front of Luke's white desk.

"I have a favor to ask," lucerys spoke as he put up the remaining files for his upcoming project.

"what's up?"

Lucerys leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, "Rhaella has a daddy-daughter dance this weekend and due to unforeseen issues Aemond can not take her. she asked me to ask you if you wouldn't mind taking her?"

their was a moment of silence as Jacaerys's violet eyes studied his brother. "what color is her dress?"

"she chose a dark red," Luke answered with a sweet smile.

"she has good taste. no problem I'll take her," Jace replied, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.

"thank you, Jace. truly I deeply appreciate it," Lucerys replied.

"go ahead and pay my favor back with allowing me to take you and her to dinner tonight," Jace said.

lucerys softly laughed before glancing at what the day was. Wednesday. he nibbled on his bottom lip before looking back at his brother. jacaerys was doing everything in his will power to not grab his little brother and smoother him in kisses.

"alright. do you want us to meet you at the restaurant?" he asked.

"I'll pick you up," Jace answered.

"alright then. I'll see you tonight," Lucerys told him.

jacaerys gave him a small nod before heading out the door. lucerys found himself staring at the closed door longer than he should've been. he released a deep sigh before finishing up his work and going to pick up Rhaella from school.

"muña," Rhaella huffed as she got into the BMW.

"what's wrong baby?" Luke asked as her as he drove down the road.

"Daenys ignored me all day today. I didn't even do anything wrong to her. All she said was, "I don't want to talk to you." I don't know why," Rhaella spoke extremely sad and she started picking at skin around her nails.

"hey, hey, baby. don't do that. I have something that's gonna brighten your day up real quick," Luke quickly said.

her violet eyes lit up as she met his gaze in the rear view mirror, "uncle Jace wants to talk to you so we're are going to have dinner with him."

"yes! did you tell him about the dance, mommy?" she quickly asked.

"we'll see what he says at dinner," Luke teased his daughter. Rhaella was beyond happy as they arrived home and she rushed inside to bathe and change clothes. they both were dressed in casual jeans and sweaters. Luke had finished the rhaella's pigtails when the door bell rang and she dashed to the door.

"uncle Jace!" she squealed and reached her arms open for him.

"Rhaella!" he yelled in the same excitement and picked her up. Rhaella giggled as Jace started asking millions of questions about her day. the sound made Luke's heart yearn. how he wished he could home everyday to that sound.

"ready?" Jace asked him.

Lucerys looked up from the floor to Jace holding Rhaella in his arms. he was also in jeans and in an old football jersey he's kept for so long. it was the perfect sight for sore eyes. he softly smiled and shook his head. the trio got into jace's truck and drove to surprisingly, a random diner Rhaenyra used to take Luke and Jace to. Rhaella held Jace's hand as they entered the diner.

"they have the best milkshakes here, rhae. your gonna love it," Jace told the five year old.

"rhae?" Luke quietly asked.

"yeah, she needs a nickname. or should I call her ella? what do you call her?" Jace asked him as they sat down in a booth.

"he calls me baby, sweetling, little dragon, sweetie," Rhaella starts naming off the nicknames Luke uses, "you can call me whatever mommy calls me."

"is that okay with mommy?" Jace asked, the word mommy came off with darker tone that completely went over Rhaella's head, but not Luke. Lucerys was on the inside of the booth and Jace was beside him. Rhaella had the other side to herself. Lucerys stared at Jace and he didn't break contact either.

"yes, that's fine with mommy," Luke played along.

he can see jace's pupils dilate at his answer. he gave a small nod to tell Rhaella about the dance because he hadn't told her yet. "oh, Rhaella, will you let me take you to the daughter dance?" Jace asked her.

her violet eyes lit up and a toothy smile on her lips, "yes! yes! please! I'm wearing a red dress and you have to match!"

"I cross my heart, I will match you," he immediately answers.

Rhaella smiled and told Lucerys what she wanted to eat. after burgers, fries, and a hot dog (for Jace) they ordered three milkshakes.

"vanilla for the little dragon, chocolate for uncle Jace, and strawberry for mommy," Jace spoke as he passed the milkshakes to the correct person. again Lucerys simply eyed him for a second and he did the same. Jace picked up his cherry and ate still not breaking eye contact with lovely brother.

"why do you keep staring at each other?" Rhaella asked not even looking at them.

"no reason, love," Luke answered and sipped his milkshake.

after dinner it was still early so they stopped by the park again. this time Lucerys was very involved with playing with his daughter and brother. Rhaella tired out quickly and fell asleep in jace's arms as they walked to their house. it was comfortable silence around the brothers as they got home. Jace carefully passed the five year old to Luke's arms. Lucerys held her tightly and took her to bed. when he came back down Jace was holding a family picture in hand. all of a sudden the comfortable silence was replaced with dark tension.

"aemond's a lucky a guy," he repeated the words from the day before.

"Jace not now," Lucerys said taking the picture from him and putting it back. Jace grabbed his arms and pulled him close.

"where is your husband? why won't he take Rhaella to the dance?" he asked in a low tone.

"jacaerys, you wouldn't understand," Lucerys whispered as he tried to get out of his brothers grip.

"I can. talk to me Luke." he said again.

Lucerys shook his head and managed to slip out of his hold and go into the kitchen. jacaerys quickly lifted Luke up on the island counter and came between his legs.

"no, Jace. this can't happen again," Lucerys told him as he now got a better look at his brother from the lighting.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to. Lucerys, I need you back in my life. even if it's including Rhaella. I can't take her to a daddy-daughter dance and not never see her again. I need to see you more often then in just your office. please, please Lucerys," Jace begged as he pulled his flushed to his and his big hands ran up and down his thighs.

it's had been months without touching himself and Lucerys felt himself going feral at the touches. he was so close to where he needed him but it wasn't enough.

"eat me out. I'll think about it." he spat out.

Jace didn't waste time undoing Luke's jeans and pulling them off. he leaned down and immediately latched onto his clit. loud slurping echoed in the hallow kitchen as Jace took his fill. Lucerys did his best to not moan so loud in fear of waking up his daughter upstairs.

"just like that Jace," Lucerys moaned as he curled his hand into his curls and tugged. jace groaned in response sending vibrations into Luke. jacaerys inserted two fingers into the clenching pussy in front of him and curled them at perfect pace to the soft spot inside.

Lucerys felt months of pent up tension and anger finally escaping as he melted into pure ecstacy. "just like that baby. fuck yes. good boy." Luke moaned.

jacaerys wasn't going to last and Luke wasn't even touching him. the words of praises were enough after years of being separated from his little brother. Lucerys arche his back off the island and his orgasm rippled through him. jace put his hand on Luke's mouth as obscene moans escaped him. Jace took his time cleaning Lucerys up with his tongue and his cock was painfully hard at this time. when he was done he pulled Luke to sit up and smashed their lips together. it was messy and sloppy but that's how they liked it.

"let me take care of you," Luke whispered. Jace could barley speak because he just wanted Luke's taste everywhere on his mouth. he helped his brother down from the counter and half naked he got down on his knees. he unbuckled jace's jeans and pulled them down.

"you might want to hold onto the counter," Luke told him as he grabbed his cock in his hand.

"why-"

Lucerys immediately deep throated jace's cock. it had been a while since he had done anything sexual. aemond was always busy and never had time to even visit. when he did it a rare occasion. Jace tossed his head back, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the counter.

God he's bigger then when were teens.

Luke pulled away from his throbbing cock and took his balls into his mouth. the sensation was new to jacaerys since it's been a while for him too.

"fuck Luke," Jace groaned as Luke let his balls go with wet pop and went back to sucking. his cheeks hollowed out and his glossy blue eyes looked up at his brother with Innocence that wasn't there anymore. Jace came quick with the eye contact and Lucerys swallowed every salty-sweet drop.

Jace helped him up on shakey legs and cupped his face before kissing him again. "was that enough time for you to think of I can see you again?" Jace asked him breathlessly.

Lucerys softly giggled, "yeah, that was enough time."

#lucerys velaryon #jace is giving uncle jessie vibes #house of the dragon #hotd #prince lucerys #jaceluke #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jace x lucerys #hotd jacaerys #jace velaryon #jacaerys x lucerys #lucerys targaryen #luke velaryon #fanfic #fanfiction

[aziraphales-library]

hello! this blog is a blessing, it has helped me quite a lot haha could you please rec me some fics with gabriel as an ex or a bad boyfriend? with crowley certainly putting him in his place as a treat hehe

Hi! We have some fics featuring an abusive relationship between Aziraphale and Gabriel here. Here are some fics which feature Aziraphale in a not-great relationship with Gabriel before he gets together with Crowley...

What a wonderful caricature of intimacy by noahproblem (G)

“Your fiancé--I’ve seen him,” Crowley mused, sounding a bit disgusted, examining his well taken care of nails. “He is tall and handsome, with a manor by the sea?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale muttered, feeling as though he was being scolded.

“He is beloved by many,” Crowley continued, resting his head in his palm as if holding it up himself was too much of a chore, his long curly orange locks like a curtain around him, his golden eyes piercing Aziraphale once more. “Chosen specifically for you by your parents?”

“Yes…” Shifting uncomfortably, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around himself, feeling a weight in the pit of his stomach.

“Then surely,” Crowley’s tone was full of venom and his S’s rolled into a hiss. “There can be no objection to such a man?”

“No, but,” Aziraphale started, clinging to himself harder, remembering violet eyes but always from the side. “Not once, in all the times he’s visited me,” He looked up finally, finding those scary, wonderful eyes upon him still. “Has he ever looked at me.”

seven days was all she wrote by phinnia (M)

A wedding is going to happen, and Crowley has to stop it.

First step: get exceedingly, utterly, three-sheets-to-the-passing windstorm pissed.

A Simple Plan and a Cappucino by mozbee (T)

“The thing is, I don’t really wanna be with a fat old guy.”

Crowley wishes he was the type of person who still read newspapers, so he could be hiding behind one right now. His sunglasses do a piss-poor job of hiding his expression at the best of times, and this is most decidedly not a best of times. - - - When Crowley (and the rest of the cafe) overhears Aziraphale being dumped brutally, he takes it upon himself to track the other man down. Just in the name of solidarity, see. It's not because Crowley's been in love with Aziraphale since the first time he saw him.

That would be ridiculous.

Scam Boyfriend by ElderlySardine (E)

Crowley has loved Aziraphale for as long as he can remember - since they were small boys in short trousers, walking to primary school together in sleepy Tadfield. And Aziraphale loves him, too - they are still the best of friends, even 44 years later. And if Crowley secretly wishes that they could be more than friends... well, that's his problem, and he's dealing with it. He loves things just the way they are.

But then the unthinkable happens, and a new love interest enters Aziraphale's life. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Crowley soon begins to fear that Gabriel may not be all he seems...

Saudade by tenandi (M)

Anthony Crowley, London’s most provocative horror writer, is married to his craft. Rumor has it that he’d eloped with Baron Lighbringer’s son before an unforeseen tragedy tore them apart. After relocating to the Oxfordshire countryside he becomes captivated with the man who reawakens his ability to love again: Pastor Gabriel’s neglected husband Aziraphale.

-

“Are you an angel sent here to set me to rights?” the writer sighed. “I'd see you soar above all others. I would cradle you more dearly than the ghost I've borne.” Crowley’s features shifted, moving from an expression of wonder to unrepressed desire. He stroked down the blonde’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Hello Aziraphale,” the name was a prayer on his lips.

Saudade (Portuguese): the love and longing that remains after someone is gone

Come Set Me Free by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

Aziraphale, a humble, inexperienced bookstore owner, marries Gabriel, an up and coming spiritual and relationship guru, author of a wildly popular series of books on maintaining a happy marriage in the new age. They move together to New York state to help support Gabriel's flourishing career, and Aziraphale finds himself a kept man in a stilted marriage.

Gabriel inherits a sprawling Victorian manor house up in the Catskills and a faded greenhouse when his father passes away. They hire Crowley, a talented horticulturist with a shady past to bring the greenhouse back to life, and Aziraphale is instantly smitten. He's also dedicated to his marriage, even though he is coming to terms with the fact that it's unraveling. Anyway, it's a moot point, Crowley is straight... or so Aziraphale and Gabriel assume...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale/gabriel #gabriel is a dick #human au #mod d