#ivory swans

[loola-a]

got around to designing christoph’s family !

#loola art #fe3h #digital illustration #fe3h fanart #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3houses #fe #fe3h oc #ivory swans

[qxurugosk]

Had a discussion with a friend about my version of CR lore while drawing a young Longan, and here's the result. They were adopted by Millennial Tree and Sugar Swan alongside their siblings who haven't hatched yet. (Well, at this age, Lotus, Pitaya, and Ananas have already hatched) They werecalled 'Ivory' rather than 'Longan' when they were younger, and they used to have wings. (I'll probably explain this one day)

They were completely fine as a child, but they were a bit.... Weird???? Certainly not evil or malicious, just kinda odd compared to what their dragonkin was like. They had a habit of stalking and observing creatures from a distance, especially Gods.

Pretty close relationship with their adoptive parents though, I'll give you that. They spent a lot of time with Sugar Swan more than they did with Millennial Tree.

But yeah, I'll expand more on this one day, hopefully. This version of the CR lore is a headache but canon CR lore IS a headache.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #longan dragon cookie #ivory dragon #millennial tree cookie #sugar swan cookie #rewritten cookie run lore #au #weird fucking child

[lanayru-the-water-god]

Living with secrets

While Lanayru’s physical strength has returned, Nerin soon finds out that her waterdrop has been keeping a secret of her own.

(Part 5 of the “All for the maiden” series)

Word count: 2683

The back doors to Lanayru’s palace glimmer in the light, their intricate white and gold pattern standing out against the sky-blue of the surrounding area. Nerin approaches, her heart racing with anticipation as she pictures her best friend’s smiling face. Lanayru had sent her today, supposedly to hang out like they always do. At last.

In the weeks since the Water Goddess’s awakening, Lanayru has kept her distance in order to catch up on all the days she missed. Although Nerin has understood why, she has lived through each day with an ache in her heart, longing to spend more time with Lanayru; they could sit and giggle together, playing with the new baby dragon, teasing Cordelia and the other Dwellers…just like it had been before.

The Swan Goddess stops in front of the doors, her brows furrowing with confusion. While there is usually a Dweller or two sitting outside to guard the place, today it is eerily silent. Nobody is here.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to open the right-hand door, only to find that it’s locked. Just as she raises her fist up to knock, a click sounds from the other side and the door pulls open.

She was waiting right here!

“Lanayru!” she shrieks with delight. “Oh, it’s so—“

The figure in the doorway frowns, her royal blue and purple hair taking Nerin aback.

That’s…not Lanayru.

“Oh…Cordelia.” She puts her hand back down to her side and smiles, trying to hide her disappointment. “I-I’m sorry, I thought—“

“It’s alright.” Dweller 2 chuckles, stepping aside to let Nerin in. “But there is something important I must discuss with you, before I let you see her.”

The Swan Goddess freezes, trying to peer down the hall. “Can’t that wait for just a bit? Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Lady Lanayru’s orders. Please, just follow me, and soon your questions shall be answered.”

Cordelia closes the door behind them, locking it in place, before leading a nervous Nerin down the elegant corridor. The Dweller’s colored hair stands out starkly against the rest of her figure, dressed in all black with a glimmering cape nearly touching the floor. Her heels click-clack against the tiles, as do Nerin’s, and the Swan Goddess marvels at the woman Lanayru created all those centuries ago.

She is truly beautiful.

But observing Lanayru’s creation brings her back to Lanayru, and her heart sinks again. A situation like this has never happened before, and she wonders if something has gone wrong. It must have, right? The Water Goddess wouldn’t shut herself out otherwise…

The two reach the sitting room, with its large intricate windows and flowy white curtains. Nerin checks around the room for Lanayru, only to find nobody there. Cordelia draws her attention to the low round table at the center of the room, where a piece of paper sits atop one end. It has writing on it. A letter.

“Is this for me?” Nerin asks, reaching out to take it.

“Indeed, this is from your waterdrop. I shall let you read it now…it might be difficult to do so.”

What does that mean?

With careful hands, the Swan Goddess holds up the paper, filled on both sides with unmistakable small, loopy writing. Lanayru’s writing.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she begins…

My darling Fea,

This is not an easy letter to write. I must inform you that I am not doing well. Although I may have regained my strength now, my emotional state has deteriorated. I have laid in my bed weeping, for you and for what I must have put you through. For I, too, have a secret. I have been hiding this from you since my head cleared enough to fully think, and I believe it’s time I let it out. While I would like to share this news with you face to face, I am too heavy with guilt to do so, and for that I hope you can forgive me.

You might still be thinking of how you’re gonna tell me, right? Or if you will at all. So let me make this easier, ok?

You don’t need to tell me, Nerin.

I know.

I always knew.

My words now may sting, I am aware you have wanted to keep this from me, and I am truly sorry. But I feel this is the only way. We are both dealing with heavy emotions and baggage to carry, mine from giving you such a traumatic experience, and yours from trying to keep me unaware of the truth. Don’t try to deny it, I see from your behavior how much you’ve been hurting, and each occurrence of this deals a heavy blow to my heart.

Again, my deepest apologies for keeping this to the written word. Now that I have explained this to you, I think we shall finally talk it out. Only then will I begin to heal.

I am outside, on the terrace by the right-hand side of the room. Please come, little one.

Much love,

Lana

The letter slips out of the Swan Goddess’s hands, and she freezes in place, unable to move. Lanayru still knew she still fucking knew oh my gods she knew this whole time-

“You okay, Lady Nerin?”

Startled, she whips around to face the blue-haired Dweller, still standing behind her.

“Oh, Cordelia, I’m sorry-“

“She’s over there.” Cordelia points to a large set of glass doors, her black and silver bracelets jingling. “Go to her, she’s been upset for quite some time.”

Through the glass and out onto the elegant patio, a familiar figure catches Nerin’s eye: the back of a short blonde bob with two pointy ears sticking out, the long flowy skirts in baby blue, droplet-shaped earrings glistening in the light…

“Lanayru!!” The Swan Goddess bolts for the door without thought, letting her dainty legs take her, and leaving Cordelia inside. With quick fingers she swings the door open and steps outside, closing it behind her.

The Water Goddess sits at the edge of a small spring, on a smooth round border functioning as a bench. She doesn’t turn her head, just stares out into the beautiful views of her domain, hands clasped in her lap. Does she know I’m here? Did she hear me?

“Lanayru?” Nerin calls out tentatively, approaching where her best friend is seated. At the sound of her name, the Water Goddess finally turns to look.

“…You came,” she breathes, relief filling her blue eyes and tender face. “I…I didn’t know if you would be mad at me.”

“Mad?? Why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t tell you that I knew.” Lanayru gently taps the spot next to her. “Here, why don’t you sit down?”

Nerin obeys, tucking her skirts back slightly before taking a seat next to her friend. The slight breeze produces a soft jingling sound, from the silver and white jewelry dangling from her dress and four sets of earrings.

“You knew…this whole time? H-how did you figure it out? Did you—“ She pauses in thought, her mind flashing back to the moment of Lanayru’s first awakening. “Do you remember that day?”

“…What day?”

“When you first woke up from recharging.”

“No…? I mean, I remember waking up, at some point, and then…” Lanayru’s brow furrows. “I don’t think you were there, though…just Cordelia. She told me I was fading in and out for a while, and…after that it gets a bit fuzzy, sorry.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Nerin smiles slightly. “I just wanted to make sure…I know I’ve asked you that before and you said no, but…”

“You think I would lie to you?”

“No, of course not! It’s just that…” A weak, half-conscious Lanayru comes to her mind as she trails off, bringing a pang to her chest.

“What?” the Water Goddess asks. “What happened?”

Might as well tell her now.

“Well…” Nerin starts, a sigh escaping her lips. “You figured it out. Right then and there. I didn’t think you would, you were barely conscious and so disoriented, but—I told you too much, I gave myself away.” The solemn, guilt-stricken look on Lanayru’s face is enough to break her heart. “For thirty-five days I thought about how to tell you the story, with the hopes that you would never have to know, and since you haven’t brought it up again I thought—“

“I’m so sorry…” Lanayru touches a ringed hand to one of Nerin’s own, gazing into her eyes. “Guess I figured it out more than once, then. But when I heard your story, the one I remember…I saved Ivory, and then you came to carry me back to my domain, devastated to see me lying passed out on the ground. When I started to gain more awareness I realized that this story wasn’t adding up, little one. Why wouldn’t you have been there when your maiden was dying? In your spring of all places? The others wouldn’t have waited to call you until she was unconscious, right? And why would I be out there with her and not you? I’m never in your spring by myself…it all just sounded like one big cover-up to hide something else that troubled you. So to make it 100 percent certain, I recently brought my concerns to Cordelia. She confirmed it.”

Damn it.

DAMN IT!

Why did I tell all the Dwellers??

“….Oh, Lana…” she replies, as the Water Goddess moves her hand to fidget with a fold of her skirt. “I really didn’t want you to know. That’s why I never told you, because all this guilt you’re feeling- I was certain this would be your reaction.”

Lanayru stays silent, glancing down at her lap and letting out a deep exhale. For a second the only sound is the soft ripples of spring water, and the quiet chirping of distant bluebirds.

“My darling…I never wanted you to go through this, little one,” she speaks eventually, without looking up. “And none of this would have happened in the first place if I hadn't…you know…”

“Lanayru. No.” Nerin scolds. “Please don’t blame yourself! Do you know what would have happened had you not done anything?”

The Water Goddess nods her head slowly. “…Yeah, of course I do.”

“So you did a good thing, waterdrop, trust me. You saved someone’s life. Yes, what I had to witness was heartbreaking, but I’ll live. It’s much better than the alternative.”

She cringes as she speaks the last few words. No, don’t think about it. That didn’t happen. But she can’t help but picture if Ivory had been the one to die, not Lanayru…

“Little one…tell me.” Finally, Lanayru meets her gaze, tears running down her pale face. “What was that like?”

Nerin’s heart sinks in her chest, as she lets out a sigh.

“If you must know, it was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to…” She trails off. “Sorry, that’s not helping you at all—“

“No, go on. Please, tell me the truth.”

“…Okay,” she continues. “Well, you know how I told you that Ivory wasn’t awake to see you fall?” Taking in a breath, she hesitates. “The thing is, uh…she was. I lied to you, waterdrop. She was awake and very much lucid, and I wanted her to think you simply passed out. So after you went limp I buried my head into your chest so she wouldn’t see, and oh gods, I knew what to expect, but you weren’t breathing, you had no heartbeat, it was all just fucking silent, and I stayed there forever, minutes, hours, who knows how long it was…and Ivory tried to touch you but I shooed her away…it was haunting to not hear the beating of your heart because I knew you would come back but you were also gone, Lanayru, you were fucking dead—“

Burying her face into her hands, Nerin chokes out a sob. The memories she had been holding in are now free, giving her a tiny sense of relief, but now it’s almost as if she’s back in her spring, her head on top of Lanayru’s unmoving chest to shield the truth from her maiden…and she wants to forget this but she can’t, she can’t—

“…Fea?”

Slowly she lifts her head, at the sound of her precious nickname, to face her friend’s worried gaze.

“Oh, little one, I’m so sorry I asked…”

“Don’t apologize, please. You said we need to talk this out…I shouldn’t keep it inside any longer.”

“Well…” The Water Goddess sniffles, wiping a tear with her hand. “Is there…anything else?”

“I, uh…I do have one question,” Nerin’s own tears spill down her face as she watches her friend’s gloomy expression. “How-how long does that last? Before the resurrection?”

“Nobody knows exactly, my darling…but from our estimates, I would say up to two minutes.”

“…Two minutes??”

All of the pain, the waiting, the torture of silence…it was only two minutes?

“Yeah…that’s it, little one. I simply can’t fathom how long that must have felt for you, I mean—“

“Too long,” Nerin breathes. “It was too fucking long.”

Lanayru breaks eye contact with her friend, leaving the pair in silence briefly, before finally opening her mouth to speak again.

“…Rin, I am so sorry…beyond what words can say, I—I’m the reason you had to suffer like this, my stupid Healing Grace that wasn’t made for saving others, curse me! If only I was born with a power that didn’t fucking kill me every time I saved someone, I—“ Lanayru holds her hands out and weeps, stamping her foot onto the tiles in frustration and anger. “Whatever I do, I try to-to give one person…a second chance but I just end up hurting another! I’m never enough, I-“ She chokes on her own tears, letting out what must have been clawing through her since she discovered the truth. “I will…never be enough—“

Too heartbroken to respond, Nerin wraps an arm around Lanayru, bringing her in closer, and the Water Goddess rests her head on her friend’s fluffy feather shawl.

“I can’t forgive myself,” she continues, “I—I gave you…a traumatic experience… and now—now you still wanna be friends with the one who failed you.”

“Woah woah woah, Ru, stop,” Nerin interjects. “What makes you think you failed me?? That couldn’t be farther from the truth, waterdrop, you know that. You did everything you could to make sure my maiden wouldn’t leave me.”

“Y-yeah, I just…I wish I could save someone…without losing myself.” Lanayru sniffles, her tears running onto the shawl, and Nerin only squeezes her tighter. “I don’t wanna lose myself. All that does is hurt you.”

“I know, sweetie…oh, I wish I could change that for you…I don’t wanna lose you either. But you come back, right? You always do…and we get through it, we come back stronger. So we can get through this too, alright?”

Nerin gently runs a hand through Lanayru’s soft hair, feeling the silky strands between her fingers. The last few weeks have been draining, and she can only imagine how painful it’s all been for her friend. Pain that will take time to fully heal from.

Lanayru sighs. “…Alright.”

“Good, my darling. You will always be enough, remember that. Your Healing Grace may be less than perfect, but you’re still beautiful, kind, selfless…You’re still my Lanayru.”

“Aww…that’s so sweet…” The Water Goddess slowly lifts her head to look her companion in the eye. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Please, waterdrop…there is nothing wrong with you, ok? You have the most compassionate heart of anyone I know, and you never want any of us to suffer. I’m proud of you for telling me the truth, Ru.”

“Well…I can’t go through this alone,” Lanayru replies, wiping a tear with her sleeve. “Thank you, Fea. I really owe you one.”

Nerin smiles at her friend’s words of gratitude, even knowing that a repayment is never necessary. Just having her friend here, alive and breathing, with her full strength returned, is all she needs.

Because together, they can finally take their first steps on the long road to healing.

#the goddess lanayru #bailey writes #nerin the swan goddess (by the amazing trippy!) #ivory the swan maiden (also by trippy) #<< mentioned #holy shit this is loooong #and i hope the way it ended makes sense lol they do get a hug too :)

[abrosexualvagabondcookie]

Are we gonna ship Longan Dragon with Millennial Tree or am I having stupid thoughts again?

#millennial tree cookie #longan dragon cookie #ivory dragon cookie #cookie run #longantree #ivorytree #maybe a poly with sugar swan lmao

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I never asked you to, you bumbling oaf.❞

[ Between advices and jealous-fraught fights, nestles your heart in red satin and ivory touch. Or, your marriage so far with the firstborn son of the King. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 3,901 ] | Aegon Targaryen II x Wife!Reader

contains— fluff & smutty - nsfw: oral (f receiving), p & v sex, creampie, breeding kink(?), - soft shit if aegon got to at least have a bit more agency lmao - jealousy - sorta angsty in the beginning but eh - your house is unnamed but you're a bad bitch - no use of y/n - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— it wasn't going to be a full smut, but aegon happened so here we are. comment, reblog & like at will, mwa!

Fraught might be a marriage arranged— cost and effect, weighed by titles and expectations of such matches made, emotion of either future spouse the least they weigh when they make their decisions — but you had grown to adore your husband.

You had been warned, of course. Gossip and small-minded chatter followed the firstborn son of the King. That despite the regality of Targaryen roots and colouring, he was a whoremonger, an addled-drunk, a monstrous caveat shrouded in dark green silk and iron.

You were called a victim, a damsel in distress meant to be saved before you had even met him. And yet not a single one of them batted an eye, much less offered a hand to rescue you from such turmoil. More than prepared to send you off. Others, of course, wishing for a prince to be married to their house, spit their scorn and irony.

The day you met him was a hot day. The sun basked the Crownlands with an almost venomous hatred, and it did not help your anticipation. Nor the long and arduous travel that turned the carriage into a hotbox meant to cook.

Your rear had ached in pain, almost as painful as your pinched cheeks that your grandmother had twisted unto your skin before you got out to meet the Queen, the Hand, and your betrothed, reminding you that a Princess Consort must always look her best, must appeal to her husband at all times "but must not be whorish! And sit straight, by the Seven, girl! Remember to exit gracefully! Like a swan, not a duck! Yes, there is a difference! Scamper your sarcasm!"— your gown was heavy, cinched tight and thick in beautiful fabric and small pearls and sapphires.

You had smiled prettily, bowed perfectly, and when you finally faced your betrothed, he was barely able to stand, pale as a sheet, and suffering from his cups the night before, sweat weeping on his brow.

It had sent a strike down your spine, irritation and anger spinning beneath pearly teeth. You bite down any word before they escape, forcing you to a perfect posture and a sharpened edge to your smile.

Aegon Targaryen, Second of his Name, had taken a step back, almost subconsciously, as fear flashed in his darling blue eyes.

Your good brother, having found out of this first interaction, had not stopped teasing your husband for the next few moons. Your good sister, you were told much later, had hummed wistfully, fingers dancing between rings as if she knew much more than anyone else, a small smile playing on the corners of her lips.

The memory makes you laugh now, warming your cold fingers against your first winter storm in Kings Landing. Snow torrents in whirlwinds and spikes, filling the Godswood in flurries and icicles.

Your Lady In Waiting, Emma Redwyne with her pretty Tully red hair and curled lashes that you had always found envy in, bows in greeting. You don't acknowledge her, which you recognise as nothing but pettiness, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You continue to stare forward, hand outstretched in the flurry of snow, when she awkwardly speaks.

"The prince is in your bedchambers, my princess."

You hum in acknowledgement, but no more. She shifts.

"He says he will not leave lest it is you who tells him so."

You turn to her, churlish in your expression of irritation and she winces, tucking her chin once more in false reverence before you sigh. The Lady Redwyne had been a friend once, an acquaintance really. Your grandmother had warned you that though you should have a good relationship with your ladies, it was best to keep them at an arm's length.

"Vipers and greed make stock in the centrefold of power, my dearest," she murmured, gnarled hands twinning your hair, a colour close to her own when she had been your age. You had been told you looked just like her, a gem in her era, her hand sought after by lords and princes alike before your grandsire made a weighty proposal to her house. "No matter what friendship you can build, all of it is but fat clouds and sandcastles. Pretty as they are, easily destructible by the next gust of wind."

"But they would be my ladies." The idea that the women closest to you should be kept with a good eye brought a weight to your chest. Trust is a hard thing to grasp in this place, you were fast learning.

You grandmother tutted, her hands cupping your chin, tilting upward until the same eyes met. One aged and knowing, another young and soon will understand the weight of life. Of the coat she bore with her husband's house in front of the Sept.

"Just watch and see, my sweet. Your future husband is a prince. They will try their damnedest. But you should not lose, for you are his wedded consort."

Now, your eyes linger on the cut of Lady Redwyne's gown. Far too revealing for the coldest touch of the year. The rogue in her cheeks, in her lips. There is a new necklace nestled on her bosom, no doubt an insistent gift from her father.

You wonder if your husband had stirred at the sight of her full visage. That if you had not been upset with him as it it, and have not abandoned your marriage quarters for three moons now, his fingers would have danced across her pale collarbones, fingering the dropped ruby at the centre of her throat. Pressing a light kiss on the gem.

The fornicated memory brings nausea and anger, but you are not new to your role, much less the greed of others, even those closest to you, so you strangled it with will.

If Aegon had dared to mock you anew while you were both in cold waters, he has been too aware now of your anger and what it means for him.

You look back at the peek of red leaves still attached to the tree, almost a stubborn refusal to move with the order of the gods, and you smile despite yourself.

"... My princess?"

Your annoyance spikes.

"And if I tell you to tell him that I will sleep in another chamber, mayhaps upturn a chamber meant for guests, will he then rot forever in my bedchamber?" You turn to her, eyebrow arched. "Will he not be accosted for leaving his duties undone? Must I treat him as a babe throwing a tantrum? Soothe him?" You step toward her. She flinches, a bird wanting to take flight but knows better than to move without her mistress' orders. "Or have you already tried so, to soothe the prince, and have been told to scram, to fetch me, for you are not his wife?"

Her eyes flutter, chest heaving. "My Princess, please—"

"Enough," you say primly, gathering your skirts. "Come to my chambers before dinner but no earlier. The only reason I haven't sent you back to the Reach is by grace and no more."

"My princess." She bows again and you don't miss the clenched jaw as you leave in a flutter of your bloodred gown and arched chin.

You have only just turned a corner when you hear a voice, soft and silky, familiar for many moons now.

"That was harsh of you, good sister."

You pause and spin, letting out a small laugh at the appearance of your good brother. Tall and princely in visage, he inclines his head in greeting while you bow.

"You are mistaken, my prince."

"Hm?"

You smirk. "That was kindness on my part."

He hums, fighting off a smile. Or what you think is a smile. Prince Aemond is still a mystery to you, but he is polite and you find yourself in good ease with your good brother. Unlike your husband, he wears his duty like armour and wield it like a sword. More than once, you are made to imagine what it would be like to have been married to him instead of your husband, and you blanche at the thought.

Though there is complications and evergreen misunderstanding with your husband at most turns, you cannot find yourself happy to the idea of being married to the One-Eyed Prince. There is nothing to say of his scarred appearance— as it does nothing but exemplify his gifted wielding of the sword, but being so honour and duty bound as you, it would be a cool, crisp marriage wheeled on routine and silent understandings.

A monotonous life might be a mercy to most, a dream to some even, but it brings hives to your skin at the mere idea.

Silent dinners and polite conversations are one thing. A marriage built on everything but... it would unsettle and madden your soul.

He offers his arm. "May I escort you to your chambers and my sad sack of a brother?"

You temper your giggle, taking his elbow. "I would be delighted."

Quiet pinches both of your measured footsteps, but you revel in its serenity. Maegor's Holdfast is stone and steel in the winters, fewer bodies lingering in corridors and corners to stave off into rooms with heat, but the rest that do are about, bow at your persons.

"I see you are adjusting well," he finally says. You turn, eyebrow arched. "As a princess consort of the realm."

"Was I so unprepared in my earlier moons?"

"In a way. Helaena says you are still comely and kind, despite being married to my brother."

"I am satisfied in my marriage, Prince Aemond," you say, unable to stop your raised hackles and need to defend your husband. "My duty to the realm is not strained in the least, and I... care for him."

He gives you a long look but you refuse his stare. He hums again, and whatever topic is breached is dropped. The quiet follows up until the doors of your chambers where he stops.

"Thank you for escorting me, my prince. I know your duties occupy your time."

"A duty of mine is to ensure my good sister is in safe hands." He gives a beckoning bow, notching an eyebrow at the door. "And I wish you ever happiness with your marriage to my brother, the Seven knows your duty is harder than mine."

Before you can retort, he is gone, and you are left with a sigh before you push through.

Though a prince, there is nothing princely of Aegon's sprawl on your bed. His gold, silver spun hair like a halo akimbo his face. Warmth emanates from the fire while he plays with his fingers atop his stomach.

"I thought you will ignore me once more, my wife," he speaks to the air, face still straight to the ceiling.

As you close the doors, a nod to your sworn shield, your straightened shoulders hunch as you relax. An unladylike snort breaking through the quiet. You don't see it, but Aegon smiles at the sound, a pang hitting his chest at the sound of comfort that he misses so.

"These are my chambers, husband," you say. "Unless you are meaning to kick me out of the Keep in total, I think my appearance in my own is not a totally shocking thought."

You sit beside him but do not lay down, giving him a good look as he stares up at you with a vacant expression. He is sober, in a way that there is a glassy sheen to his mullish blue eyes the colour of lightning and thunderstorms. His pallour is pale and his clothes are rumpled, but there is no near stench of wine or woman.

In fact he smells like Aegon on his good days; dragon and grime at the edges, soot and wind.

"I have not been to the Silk Street since we have been married," he says as if reading your thoughts. "I have not, and will refuse, to stray from our marital chambers." He gives you a poke. Like a child. "Unlike you."

You know he is telling the truth. He made the vow to you on your marriage bed, hands intertwined, fresh purple blooms appearing on your throat as he bore crescent shaped moons on his back.

You had to wear high-necked collars for two weeks. In the summers. It was impossibly awful, but the memory of your first night is one you cherish. What you go back to when tempers flare and sadness beckons in corners.

He had spent that first night worshipping you, ensuring you are more than sated before he had taken his own pleasure.

"But women who want you need not be whores to tempt you to their beds," you finish softly, unable to stop yourself as you take one of his hands to your lap, spinning the silver ring he keeps on his last finger.

"My wife, dearest to my heart." Your eyes flutter close at the endearments. It was a running joke to both of you, a joke that evolved with sincerity and... well, you hoped was love.

"I had tea with your grandmother, wife."

You looked up from your lunch, lips thinning at the joke and excitement nestled in giggles he was holding back. "Oh no. I knew I should have sent her back home the minute our vows were over."

He laughed then, taking the unoccupied seat across from you as he pressed his lips to your head. It made your heart flutter, even more so as he plucked a berry from your tart and offered it to your lips. He looked with insistence so you ate it. He pressed a thumb to your bottom lip before pressing a soft kiss to his own lips. You tried not to furiously blush.

"What has she told you?"

"Many a topic." He laughed again at your groan. Aegon had found himself enamoured with you as days past. Learning how you act less primly and more comfortable in his presence had brought him a good sense of happiness. Something he thought he lost forever. And he found, the happier he made you, the stronger the happiness in himself grew. It was an addicting feeling.

"But the prime idea were endearments."

"Endearments?"

"That a husband and wife with a pretty marriage such as ours, as we are royals, must show hope and perpetual peace for the people."

You frowned. "And... endearments give perpetual peace to the people how?"

"A show of the stability of our marriage. Of fondness. So now, I shall call you my dearly beloved heart."

You made a strange, strangling sound that had your husband giggling in surprise. "Pardon me, my prince. I—"

"Your precious honey bee."

"... Excuse me?"

"Babycakes?"

"Are you ill?"

"The darling of your eye, then."

You blinked. "Pardon?"

"What you call me," he teased.

"I refuse."

"You refuse?"

"Yes." You fought your own smile. "You are not the darling of my eye, and calling you thus, will make me a liar."

The pinched expression of jealousy made you bite your lip. "And who is, pray tell, the darling of your eye?"

"My grandmother."

You pressed your lips together. Aegon blinked in shocked. Then the both of you burst out in hard laughters, holding your chests and stomachs.

"We shall find an endearment for your beloved husband then," he announced after he had gasped for breath, dabbing the tears collected from his eyes. His smile enchanted you, wide and beautiful, upturned with a gaze as if he was beheld by the most darling of creatures. The urge to skip over him, drape yourself on his lap, and kiss him silly was an urge you pushed down.

"The... babe to my wondrous bosom?"

"Aegon!"

"So in counsel? That is not a definite no."

"My love?" he calls now, bringing your shared hands to his lips. "Lay down with me."

Before you can retort, he pulls you down to him until your warmth is shared, burning in a single flame. A sigh leaves your mouth, and the sound urges him to pull you impossibly closer.

"Women may find themselves in our bed, but unless they are you, they are nothing," he says after a minute. You tense up and he rubs your back. "I have made a vow."

"I will not hate you if you do. Anger is sordid, but I know my role. I know that is common practice for husbands, and as Princess Consort—"

He pulls you to him, your chest pressed against his as he held your face in his hands. His eyes are sad but his gaze is firm. "Your role as my wife does not mean you stay silent in your anger. Fight me. Make as much ruckus as you want. Tell Sunfyre to burn me to a crisp. You know as much High Valyiran as I at this point."

You laugh, forehead falling on his chest as you feel the burn in your eyes as tears escaped you. "I am no dragonrider."

A laughter rumbles his chest. "Could have fooled me," he teased.

"What?"

When you look up, he is smirking. "You've ridden me before."

"Aegon!"

He noses your jaw, kissing the edge of your chin. "The lemon of your tart, you mean."

"No, I do not." A sigh leaves you as his kisses turn into suckles, his hands holding you steady, rubbing circles against your skin.

"I think... I am fully forgiven now? For you have slept far away from me—" You yelp as he bites your ear, "— for too long a time. And for spending more time with my brother than you have of me in a while. Truly unfair punishment."

"He has only escorted me."

He flips you both, unlacing the front of your bodice with adept fingers while he leaves a trail of bites at every exposed skin. "While I wait by your chambers like a lovesick fool?"

"I never asked you too, you bumbling oaf."

He huffs a laugh, ripping down the front of your dress as you shriek, eyes meeting your own with a dark glint, before his hot mouth envelops your pert nipple. You keen.

"I am still a-angry with you," you sigh, running your fingers through his silver locks. When your body adjusts, seeking to pleasure the warmth between your thighs, he moves lower as if he can read your mind, read your wants, and when you make a roll of your hips right against his tenting manhood, his groan vibrates against your breast to your ribcages.

"I understand." He leans back on his hunches, smile sweet, before he shuffles around and underneath your dress, past your small clothes, and takes a slow swipe of his finger against your warm, wet folds. Your hips buck, a gasp leaving your throat, and he breathlessly laughs.

"Your beloved honey bee would like to taste the nectar between your thighs that you have so graciously held against me for so long."

You groan, suppressing a shiver as he holds your thighs steady with his own laughter. "The urge to kick you is strong, my husband. Enough to risk the Lord Hand's ire. And your mother's."

He groans, stilling in the midst of pushing your skirts up, he pops his head back toward you. "Please, owner my beating heart. The fire to my dragon. The lemon cake to my tea—

"— that one is your least creative one so far —"

"— Let us not speak of my mother, gods forbid, my grandsire, while I am between your legs. For the good of the realm."

"The good of the realm?" You scoff. Then yelp as he bites your thigh, soothing it with a lap of his tongue.

"Yes, my sweet, the good of the realm." He pops back to you, hair askew, eyes devilish, as he grins. "It is common knowledge that heirs are for the good of the realm. And I cannot bring you pleasure if you keep mentioning people I'd rather not imagine while doing so. And your pleasure, from what your grandmother had told me from our many afternoon teas, my sweetest, golden love, is important for my heirs."

Your giggles turn breathless when he disappears beneath your skirts once more. "I surrender then... apple of my tarts."

The sound of his giggles underneath your skirts soon grow muted against the sound of your pleasure. The thing about Aegon, is that pleasure is meant to be savoured. So as he slowly tears through your own clothes while he makes you reach your peak once, twice, thrice— your skin drenched in sweat, rose blush bloomed your face and neck, arms weakened and thighs unable to hold steady — you turn to your husband, the haze of your orgasm clouding any rational thought as you beheld him, still fully clothed with your juices on his face, a proud smirk twisted on his lips.

"Are you okay, beloved?" He rests a hand on your face and you nuzzle against him. "Shall I call for a bath now?"

"Later," you pronounce breathlessly. "If you do not find yourself inside me in the next second, I shall curse you for evermore."

He laughs, giving you a languid kiss before he steps back and strips.

He does not make a show of it, as harried and hard for you (no catching of his pleasure against the bed could ever compare to thrusting inside of you), and you watch his weeping cock with an unbashed hunger of your own, as he pumps it a few times, eyes staring at your visage as you widen your legs, holding your thighs to give him a sweet view.

He groans. "What Silken Street whore could be compared to my wife so willing? What lady would be enough?"

"I swear to the Seven, if you do not end your blasted soliloquy—"

His laughter rings, body covering your own before he slides in your warm, wet cunny. Blasphemy spills his tongue as a softened sigh leaves you. Though he is not lengthy, his girth stretches, thrilling the nerves up to your throat. The ease is given by your wetness, but he is slow, making sure you felt every ridge and vein until you cry softly at your abused pearl rubbing against his body.

"I will not last," he half spits, jaw clenched. "I will have to- I'm sorry but—"

"Do it," you whisper, locking your ankles on his ass as much strength as your legs can allow. "Pound me into the matress."

"Fuck," is the last thing he says before he follows your orders, each hit against your cervix building your own peak. "Pretty wife, darling pearl, the sexiest— fucking—" spills and spits between groans and cries, chasing his high brings your own.

"A-aeg, I—"

He kisses your mouth, effectively shutting you up as he slides a hand between your sweaty bodies, finding your pearl and circling hard. As soon as you're cumming to the high heavens, tightening and twitching, a garbled scream out of your throat— he slams once, twice, as his own high entangles your own, a punctuated moan breaking out of his throat.

His seed spurts, floods, before his cock turns flaccid inside you, and you feel warm and full underneath him.

He presses his forehead against your collarbone. "Maybe we should fight more oft, nectar of my obsession."

"Sure," you say. "I will spend more time with Aemond then."

He punctures a groan as you giggle.

#aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii fluff #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #hotd fluff #hotd fanfiction #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #aegon targaryen ii fluff #aegon targaryen ii

[phonkscribes]

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Right as the they are about to descend off that cliff, thrown off that ledge, you are there. Your arm hauls them up with a certain strength to them, the sinews in your arms flexing. At that moment, they're unable to say a word, too busy taking in the sight of you as you utter your witty line or carry on as if it weren't an issue-- effortless.

Saving the Spardas asses when they don't expect you to. ft. GN! Reader

Dante

He's fallen off of cliffs and such before, whether it was due to a missed jump or simply because he's gotten knocked out of the air. Dante tries to not make a habit out of it, but it's not like he's doing it intentionally. The legendary devil hunter just happens to be a bit less patient than his brother, even after all these years. There's just some things that don't change, like his eagerness to fight demons, even if it scares him. He isn't mortal, he won't die if he's shot or stabbed, there isn't much that could kill him-- like falling and hitting his head. It'd just hurt if anything, but maybe that's something that you didn't know.

Or at least cared for.

A hit from the devil he was fighting has him thrown back with a grunt, the sound is distinct on your ears as you whip around to see his crimson jacket flail in the wind along with him in it. You make another slash at the devils coming after you to go and chase his flying figure. Dante doesn't see you, as he looks up to the sky, thinking about how he's gonna nail the demon good for that one. As he's cast over the edge, you slide on over, an arm extended and catching his ankle as he descends. The sudden grab has him out of his daydream and curling up to look at... you!

You were a couple of yards away, how did you get here so fast? He could only watch as you used your other hand to start pulling him up by the leg as you swung him up back to the edge where you were. You almost fell in your self as you groan.

"Next time you take a swan dive, do it at the pool, yeah?", you huff, patting his leg as he got to his feet.

"Only if you're watchin' me, babe", he winked as he reached for Ebony & Ivory.

You could've slapped him, you really could've. Dante only chuckles at the way you frown for a moment before you go back to fighting, rolling your shoulders as you go. It's pretty hot, he thinks. The half-demon's glad he's got someone as strong as you are on his side, something that comforts him really, knowing that you've got his back.

Vergil

Falling doesn't scare him, he's done it before, but it's where he'll end up that tends to make him feel something other than adrenaline when facing his enemies. The first time he descended, it cost him his freedom, the last time he went to hell with his brother. Now it felt like a slight, a mistake made and he doesn't quite like those. The devils he was fighting now on behalf of joining Dante's little business were putting on a fight for once, with one of them even managing to knock him back a good distance. He had misjudged that and felt himself lose his footing on solid ground.

You'd seen him tip over the edge and in an instant you were rushing to his side, not that you were too far. With your devil arm, you dug into the side of the ledge and anchored yourself as you grabbed his arm. He had only stared in awe, shock that quickly subsided as he glowered. He was not one who needed saving, quite the opposite, even as you threw him over the edge to resume the fight.

Such raw strength... in a mortal, none the less. It was... curious. Where did such power come from, he had to wonder after he had dealt with your foes with a few judgement cuts. You managed to pull yourself up, rolling over onto your back with a long sigh.

"Thank you for that, though it was unnecessary", he had commented, looking at your prone state.

"You're welcome, you oughta watch your step next time", you joke as he offers a hand to help you to your feet this time.

"It will not happen again, I assure you", he says it with such a straight face, but you can tell that he's the slightest bit embarrassed.

Nero

You had just finished combing through your share of enemies, flicking your weapon to the side to clear it of blood as you look off into the distance. Nero was holding up well with Red Queen, revving her engine and ripping and tearing into the devils seamlessly. You could often admire how fluid he could be, like a duck bobbing and weaving through water. He looked like he didn't need your help, so you'd sit back and watch. Through the demons that surrounded him, he could feel your eyes on his back.

Nero would be lying if he didn't enjoy it when you were watching him, because in truth he had admired you too. Your skills and finesse were so badass and he hoped that maybe you thought of him like that too instead of how his uncle and father had seen him. Sure it wasn't too serious when he'd been called 'dead weight' but... it stuck with him. He wanted to prove that he could stand on his own two feet without needing their help, or yours for that matter. Ironic given his current circumstance. Nero had taken his eyes off of his opponent at hand to spare you a glance, spotting the fondness in your eyes and feeling a bit of color come to his face.

"Woah!", he'd been shoved, having nearly dropped his sword to steady himself, reaching a hand behind him to push himself back off the ground. Only to find that there was none supporting him.

You jumped in just as quickly as he was about to fall, appearing in front of him and grabbing the front of his shirt just as he was about to fly. You bring him in and step back, as he just looks at you for a second.

"... You do know that I would've been fine right?", he asks instead of saying thanks, a small smirk playing on his face as you stare at him for a second. Air hike... right.

"Would you rather I let you fall?", you're quick to respond as he just scoffs, shaking his head as he resumed where he left off with the devil.

He wasn't expecting you to be there, but he's glad that you care enough to come rushing for him like that. Next time he'll be the one saving you.

#phonk scribes #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagine #gender neutral reader #dante sparda x reader #dante sparda & reader #vergil sparda x reader #vergil sparda & reader #nero sparda x reader #nero sparda & reader #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nero sparda #dmc x reader #dmc & reader #can be read as platonic or romantic #fluff #[ all my readers be strong and buff ] #[ raaaaaaahhhhhhhh ] #[ i saw this one clip of nero rolling off and falling and got inspired ]

[cockslutpadalecki]

Jealousy’s My Best Friend

Summary: You can’t help but be a little jealous when Andy pays another student some attention.

Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.

Words: 1.6K.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, jealousy, mild gaslighting, mentions of violence, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: A third instalment of a story that was only meant to be a one shot, whoops. Read the first two parts here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

You can barely hear their conversation over the sound of the blood thundering in your ears and the steady beat of your rising pulse. 

Thump. Gonna jump the bitch in the parking lot. Thump. Smash her teeth down her throat. Thump. 

Your eyes focus on the way Rebecca reaches out and touches his arm ever so gently. Her garishly painted baby pink fingers graze the bare skin of his bicep and your jaw clenches, watching the way her touch lingers a little too long than you’re comfortable with. 

He doesn’t pull away— merely smiles that dazzling ivory grin at her— and that boils your blood even more. How dare he continue to let her flirt with him so openly? He shouldn’t be encouraging her vile behaviour.

Thump. Wanna punch him. Thump. Wanna punch her. Thump.

She lets out a laugh— a fake, forced one, and it sets your teeth on edge. It’s so obvious she’s trying her best to work her magic on him. It makes you wanna vomit all over her golden coloured hair and stamp on her immaculately made up face. 

Through the blazing ire consuming you, you manage to collect up your books and throw your bag over your shoulder. You try to talk yourself out of turning back to give Andy your best scowl, but you’ve never had much restraint when it comes to him. Instead you throw him a disgusted grimace, hoping he catches it as your eyes meet over her shoulder. 

You step out of the aisle and head up the steps when you hear your name being called. Soft at first until it’s ragged and desperate. Like he needs you. 

Stifling a smug smile, you slowly turn around to face him. 

“What can I do for you, Sir?” you ask in your best breezy voice, just as Rebecca swans past the both of you. She looks sour, her lips taut in a frown and your chest swells with overwhelming accomplishment. 

“Do you have a moment to talk about your essay?” 

You smile sweetly. “Of course.” Andy turns, heading in the direction of his private office just to the rear of the room. You follow in silence, occasionally looking around you as the last of the students filter out into the hall. 

You tighten your grip around your books and shift your bag’s position on your shoulder. You don’t intend to stay for long, wanting to punish him for flirting,  but the stern way he regards you as he reaches behind you to close the door has you feeling differently. 

“What’s wrong with you?” finally comes his clipped question.

“Nothing,” you shrug off carelessly, despite the neediness inside you screaming out for his attention. You turn to leave, but his hand tight on your arm prevents you from going anywhere.

“The look on your face tells a different story.” 

“Wow, thank you.”

He tuts mirthlessly. “You know what I mean.” 

As he moves to sit on the edge of his desk, he reaches for your books and with some reluctance, you hand them over. He places them unceremoniously onto his desk with a loud thud and encourages you to relieve yourself of your bag. You drop it to the floor just as he pulls you against him and you snuggle into the space between his open legs. 

“C’mon, what’s bothering you?” 

You shake your head, trying not to let your poisonous thoughts slip off your tongue, but the words are out in a sharp burst before you can stop them. “Just curious as to when you’re gonna give in and let that slut Rebecca suck your dick.”

Andy looks aghast. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t hanging off her every word just now.”

“I was merely taking an interest in what my student had to say.” 

“Sure,” you mutter in disbelief. “And what her pussy would feel like,” your mind continues for you, but the way Andy stares you down makes you realise the words weren’t as internalised as you’d intended.

He stands, pushing you away with a little more force than you’d like, before he snaps at you curtly. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth right now? What you’re trying to accuse me of?” 

“Well, I don’t hear you denying it,” you try to defend. 

Andy shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

Your jaw tightens at that word. He doesn’t know the meaning of it. Your hand balled into fists at your sides, you fight to not step forward and punch him in the chest.

He releases a heavy sigh. “I’m doing my job okay, don’t misconstrue my actions as anything other than just that.” His tone is softer now, but remains scalding and authoritative, yet you can’t help the sudden twist that coils tight in your gut. 

You look away, needing to break eye contact before your angry tears spill over. “Am I just another part of you ‘doing your job’?” It comes out quiet and meek. 

“Hey,” he placates softly as he moves towards you and places his hands firmly around your biceps, “what we have is different, you know that, right?” 

Andy squeezes your arms tight, encouraging you to look back at him and you do. With trepidation at first until you realise his gaze is no longer hardened steel, but the usual tender cobalt. You sniff, giving him a little nod and your fists finally drop. 

“We have something special,” he praises. “Unique. Nobody understands me like you do.” You smile, your stomach fluttering with happiness. 

“I can’t deny that I haven’t noticed Rebecca is eager for my attention,” Andy continues and you stiffen in his touch, feeling white-hot ire bubble away inside your chest at his words. He must sense the tension in you as he gives your arms a reassuring squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it and take advantage of her infatuation.” 

A question suddenly pings into your mind. A desperate curiosity, and you find yourself asking, “Why-why did you act on mine?” 

He smiles, scoffing ever so softly but it’s not meant to be patronising. “Who's to say it wasn’t my infatuation with you that I acted on, hm?”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst and your cheeks ache from the strength of your smile as the ire inside you immediately cools from his words. “Seriously?” 

“You really think I would sacrifice my whole career if I wasn’t serious?” he asks quietly, moving his hands up to cradle your neck. He leans in closer until his breath is hot and damp against your cheek. “Serious about this?” 

You feel his thumbs brush the underside of your jaw and you let go of a small breathy whine at his touch when he slides a thumb up over your chin and across your bottom lip. Eagerly, you open your mouth and wait for it, his hot skin gliding over your wet tongue. You suck down on the digit, humming softly as he watches you in silent awe.

Andy moves even closer as he slips his thumb free, smearing your spit messily across your chin. Finally, he presses his lips to the corner of yours, just enough to tease the taste of him. “Serious about fuckin’ you over my desk once class is done?” he mutters between light kisses. 

“Mm. Well class is over now, Sir,” you whisper back, licking into his open mouth. Lifting your hands from your sides, you pause at his abdomen before moving to fiddle with the buckle of his belt.

“How observant of you,” he laughs with a throaty growl. “You’ll make a great lawyer someday.” 

Your hand slips beneath the waistband of his pants, fingers slowly smoothing over the bulge of his swelling erection. 

“I should hope so with all of the extra tuition I’m getting,” you giggle, running your thumb over his wet tip. Andy’s words get stuck in his throat, moaning against your cheek as you work him to full hardness. You’re about to drop to your knees when he stops you, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Not now,” he roughly grunts, pulling you over to his desk. Papers and books go flying as he hurriedly pushes them out of your way and forces you to bend over.

Your chest meets mahogany as he pulls down your jeans, his cock bobbing wetly against your thigh as he eagerly plucks the seat of your panties to one side. He sinks into your silky heat with a deep hiss, the crescent of his grip cutting into the skin at your hips. 

The desk rattles and shakes beneath you as Andy fucks you— hard, sharp thrusts that you know you’re going to feel for days. 

“Why would I want anyone else when I have you, huh?” he asks rhetorically. “My. Perfect. Little. Student,” he adds, punctuating each word with bruising force. 

Pride and hubris swells inside your chest at that— loving that he means in more ways than one. The things he’s taught you— sexually and intellectually— run amok in your brain, somehow turning you on to the point of orgasm. Pure ecstasy encapsulates you in a wave of heat and you bite down on your lip to hold in the scream that desperately wants to escape. Andy grunts behind you as he places his hand on your head, and drags his thumb softly across your cheek.

“Made to come all over my dick, weren’t you?” he praises deeply, his fingers tightening in your hair.

Your jealousy finally ebbs away in a swirl of jubilation, because despite all of the things you’ve managed to accomplish, this new title is your greatest achievement. 

And as he pulls out, spurting hot cum across your asscheeks with a gravelly moan, you know you’ll do whatever it takes to retain it.

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel​ @broadwaybabe18​ @captain-asguard​ @chamberofsloths​ @cevansgurl​ @dreamlessinparis​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @hurricanerin​ @kellhems​ @ladybug05​ @livstilinski​ @mugi-chwan95​ @navybrat817​ @otomefromtheheart​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @patzammit​ @rebel-stardust​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @sammykb1994​ @syrenavenger​ @straywords​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @sunwardsss​ @selfsun​ @threeminutesoflife​ @vicmc624​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @wintasssoldier​ @xoxonotme​

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​  

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #defending jacob fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

[searchingwardrobes]

Writing Patterns

Thank you for tagging me, @iamstartraveller776 ! I haven't done a game in ages, and since I'm on my kids' homeschool break, thought I'd give it a whirl.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Killian wished for the first time for those garish artificial lights of Storybrooke. (From "My Life, My Love, My Lady" complete)

The last time he saw her, he was fifteen hundred miles away from this rocky stretch of beach. (From "No Wives, No Mothers, No Lovers" complete)

Emma saw the rusted shopping cart rattle past out of the corner of her eye. (From "Scarborough Fair" WIP)

yellowbug83: Hi! I just purchased your Falcon as Captain America mini figure. (From "A Strange Way to Fall in Love" complete)

“I am in desperate need of a milkshake.” (From "After I'm Gone" complete)

Emma pulls her gaze away from her binoculars to scowl at the radio as if it's personally offended her. (From "Next Stop Storybrooke" eternally a WIP lol)

“Can we use your bathroom, please?" (From "It's Been . . . a DAY" complete)

The sun rose hot and fast over the Oklahoma panhandle, baking the barren ground with its scorching heat. (From "She Dreams in Color" complete from the CS HistFic event.)

9. When ebony flashes gold, Blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, You’ll be dead. (From "Ivory Runs Red" Complete from the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event 2021)

10. Bounce left, bounce right. (From "Not the Type" eternally WIP Bring it On AU from the Captain Swan Movie Marathon Event.

The only pattern I see is that I suck at opening lines, lol. (Which I already knew.) #4 and #10 are especially confusing if you haven't read the fic summary, and I'm laughing pretty hard about that!

Tagging @snowbellewells @jrob64 @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard

#game #tag game #writing game #fic writing #writing woes #writing weaknesses lol

[loola-a]

@fe-oc-week day 7 - endings !

this week has been so fun!!! tysm for everyone’s kind words, it was so nice being able to see everyone’s incredible work :-]]

#pls promise not to look to closely ​at flo’s portrait…. pleas.. #i made it very sleep depreived at like 2am LOL #fe3h #loola art #digital illustration #fe3h fanart #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3houses #fe16 #fe #fe3h oc #fe oc #fire emblem oc #fe oc week #ivory swans

[qxurugosk]

Lychee was the last to hatch from the Nursery. Whenever Sugar Swan has to leave, it's usually Ivory who has to take care of the egg.

And here's a little shitpost of Ananas and Pitaya hatching.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #longan dragon cookie #ivory dragon #ananas dragon cookie #pitaya dragon cookie #lychee dragon cookie #cookie run rewritten lore #au

[lanayru-the-water-god]

After healing

Lanayru wakes up slowly, the weakest she’s ever been, but still realizes that Nerin isn’t quite right. Something happened…and Nerin won’t tell her.

(Lanayru is ~900 years old)

Word count: 1301

“…..ru?”

“…wait…takes a minute…”

“Lanayru?”

Slowly, the first feelings of consciousness emerge from the peaceful dark void.

“Lanayru.”

The Water Goddess groans, stirring only slightly.

“Shh…give her a minute…”

“Are you with me?”

…Nerin?

The black void begins to dissipate, pieces of awareness floating into her mind. Lanayru groans again, eyes too heavy to open and body melting into a soft surface…Where’s Nerin?

“….she’s coming around.”

Huh?

Who’s…that?

Her hands are cold, so cold, tucked under something warm and fluffy…her entire body seems to be covered. Almost like…a blanket.

Something, or someone, is pressing down on her chest, moving softly. Cool hands touch her face, making her wince, and she takes in a slow breath.

“Hrrmphhh…” With what little energy she can muster, she peels her eyelids open halfway, lifting her head only slightly. Through bleary eyes she can make out an incredibly blurry mass of white atop her blanket. “Wha…?”

“Lanayru!” The white shape moves suddenly, making her head spin. “Hi, waterdrop! Can you hear me?”

“Mmm…” She rests her head back down, closing her eyes. “…yeah.”

“Oh, thank goodness! It is so good to see you, my darling.” The pure relief is evident in Nerin’s voice…telling her something has happened. Her friend had been waiting.

“Lanayru, welcome back.” The other voice is speaking now. “It’s me, Starlight. Just relax, okay? Take it easy.”

Another groan escapes her lips, and she can no longer feel Nerin’s weight on her chest. It’s just the three of them, right here, in what she assumes is her bedroom…everything before that is…gone.

“What…happened?”

Nerin takes a second to answer.

“You don’t remember, waterdrop?” A hand nudges on her shoulder. “Come on, look at me.”

It takes an immense amount of effort to open her eyes, her blurry vision swimming, but she can see the outlines of her best friend standing above her.

“Here, what’s the last thing you can recall?”

Lanayru gazes blearily at Nerin, growing ever more fatigued from the attempt to think…

Nothing.

Nothing is coming to mind.

“I…” she croaks. “I don’t—“

“There has to be something! Please think, waterdrop!”

“Nerin, darling,” Starlight’s calm voice interjects. “I am afraid Lanayru’s memory has been compromised. You must tell her what happened.”

“No…no, I-I can’t…”

“She deserves to know. Please.”

Wh-what’s going on?

Something horrible must have happened. If only she could remember what…

“Lanayru?” A soft hand touches her chin, turning her head on the pillow. “No, don’t fall asleep, come on—“

Slowly she peels her eyes back open- when had she closed them?- and her gaze is once again met with Nerin’s blurry figure. From what little she can make out of her friend’s face, something stands out to her, something running down her cheeks…

Tears.

Nerin is crying.

“Hmmm….you’ok?” she slurs out, the deep exhaustion still evident in her voice.

“Am I—Lanayru!” Nerin gasps. “Look at me…look at you! Please…try to remember?”

She wants to remember, more than anything…but oh Gods, her fuzzy brain won’t comprehend.

“…‘can’t…’m sorry.”

Somehow, Nerin won’t tell her. It’s almost as if her friend is…dreading the thought of it? Her head pounds slightly and her weak body threatens to drift off once again…Stay awake, Lanayru. She keeps her bleary eyes open, heart aching at the sight of Nerin in such distress.

“Okay,” The Swan Goddess sighs, wiping the tears with her hand. “RuRu, you saved my maiden’s life. Ivory would have… died if it wasn’t for you, waterdrop, but you’ve been gone for…” She sniffles. “…a long time.”

“Thirty-five days,” Starlight adds. “Four less than last time, but your Swan Goddess couldn’t wait. She was desperate, she’s been waiting here for days—“

Nerin holds up a hand. “That’s enough, please, don’t overwhelm her.” She then moves her delicate fingers to Lanayru’s forehead. “Now, anything coming back to you yet?”

Lanayru racks her muddled brain, things sounding so familiar…you saved my maiden’s life…Ivory…thirty-five days…last time? Whatever she had done, it happened before, but what…

In front of her, a hazy image appears. Her body glowing white, the life seeping out of her, a woman’s pale form lying on the ground…

Healing Grace!

Lanayru lets out a quiet gasp.

“I…healed her,” she chokes out, and Nerin lifts the hand off. “…Iv’ry.”

“There you go, that’s it!” The Swan Goddess sighs, in what seems to be relief. “You just finished recharging, waterdrop. I know you’re still out of it, but I’m here, Starlight’s here…you’re gonna be okay, you’re back with us. With me.”

Lanayru blinks, as her companion’s face comes more into focus. “Mrmmph…” she mumbles, keeping the warm blanket over her ice-cold fingertips.

“How are you feeling, Lanie? Do you need anything?”

“…’m tired…” The image of a bleeding Ivory drifts through her mind again, the last thing she can remember. “…’s Iv’ry ok?”

“Yeah, she’s doing much better,” Nerin replies, smiling through the tears. “Back on her feet and fully recovered. Thanks to you, waterdrop.”

“But…you lost me…”

“Yes.” Another tear runs down her friend’s cheek. “It was a horrible situation, Lanayru, trust me that you did the right thing. No matter how hard it was for us.”

The Water Goddess groans again. She doesn’t know if it’s the exhaustion talking, but Nerin just seems…off. Almost like she’s hiding something.

Healing Ivory must have killed her. It had to…right? And Nerin’s tears are not of joy but of agony. Something happened. Something else happened…

Was she there?

Did she…

Lanayru whimpers, vision continuing to clear. The look on her friend’s face is enough to break her heart right in two. She almost wishes she was still unconscious.

“Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I-ugh, I…don’t know.” The more she tries to gather fragments of her memory, the more her head spins. “Y-you’re upset…”

“I’m sorry,” Nerin mutters, quickly wiping her eyes with one arm. “I shouldn’t overwhelm you, Lanayru. You’re still so weak, and chances are you won’t remember this conversation later. That happened last time—“ The Swan Goddess briefly buries her face in her hands. “Argh, I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay, Lady Nerin,” Starlight assures her. “And Lana, your friend is right. You should just focus on resting…I should have considered how you may not recall much of this, my apologies.”

Ignoring the Dweller’s comment, the Water Goddess continues to gaze at her companion with tired eyes.

“Lil’one…if I won’t remember this…then—tell me what’s wrong.”

“Lanayru, I can’t. It will upset you too much. Just listen to Starlight, okay? The sooner you recover, the sooner we can get this all sorted out.”

“But…’m recovered…”

“No, you are not.” Nerin’s voice is surprisingly firm. “You’re fighting just to stay conscious, I can tell. You are too weak to even sit up, waterdrop. So I would hardly call that recovered.”

Lanayru sighs, her heavy eyes drooping again. If Nerin really was there, then—

She thinks back to her friend’s head on her chest, and her own heart sinks.

Then Nerin saw me…stop breathing.

“Urrgh…’m so sorry, lil’one…” she groans, rubbing her pounding head. “So sorry…”

“For what? Oh, Goddesses—“

The darkness begins to welcome her with open arms…

“Lanayru?”

Slowly she blinks her eyes back open. “Hmm?”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Ivory is okay, I’m okay…soon you’ll be okay too. You saved her, waterdrop, never forget that.”

“Nerin…were you there?”

The Swan Goddess falls silent, eyes widening. She seems to be struggling to respond, but that is all Lanayru needs. The answer is finally clear.

“You watched me…”

“Shh…relax, waterdrop.” Nerin gently soothes her. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

No…

I died and she watched me.

Floating on the edge of the comforting darkness, Lanayru feels the sharp pang of guilt in her chest, taking over her senses…

“You can go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be right here.”

#the goddess lanayru #bailey writes #nerin the swan goddess (by the amazing trippy!) #ivory the swan maiden (also by trippy) #<- only mentioned #lanayru ✨suffers✨ in this one #nerin suffers #everyone suffers :) #dweller starlight (they/them) #tw temporary death #tw (very brief) blood mention

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if you gave Edward from Twilight the Auryn and a responsibility to reimagine Fantastica, because I feel like the end results would be hilarious. And also do you think any of his family is coming to rescue him when he's lost all concept of who he is?

I mean, that's the thing though, Bastian's father in the real world was becoming increasingly worried his son was missing for several hours but a) didn't know his son was in a book b) probably couldn't enter the book if he tried.

Going to Fantasia is a solitary journey that's just you and your imagination, I was never given the impression that you could go after anyone or that someone could travel with you. The only people that can help you are yourself and the friends you make along the way during the journey (e.g. Atreyu).

As for Edward, we'll have to back up a bit. We know the Neverending Story changes per whoever is reading it, as it's intended to draw you in and sus out who can add to the world and save them from a lack of existence.

In Bastian's case, it was the tale of a boy he would always have wanted to be, Atreyu, who is kind, brave, a heroic warrior, who undergoes many trials as expected in a fantasy novel. It's the kind of story that Bastian not only loves to read and escape in, but wants to be himself (hence, when he goes to Fantasia himself, he immediately starts transforming himself into someone much closer to Atreyu: handsome and skinny, brave, heroic, a warrior, wise and charming).

What I'm getting at is that this has to be a book that engrosses Edward so that by the time he meets the Childlike Empress, he's invested.

I imagine it's the story of fantasy Bella Swan. (We'll place Edward before he actually meets Bella Swan).

The Neverending Story for Edward opens up on a beautiful young woman in a poor provincial town who believes she's very unordinary, plain, and isn't like the other girls. She's kind to others to a fault, sacrificing her own needs and wants for the sake of others, and is overlooked by everyone.

One day, her father falls ill and so she goes on a journey to seek the Childlike Empress who is the only person left who may be able to save him. When she reaches the Ivory Tower, Bella is devastated to hear that the Childlike Empress is ill herself and seeing no one. She is told that there is a person that Bella must find who can save both the Childlike Empress and then her father. Bella goes on a perilous journey to find said person, nearly losing hope several times along the way and growing as a person as she faces dangers she never imagined.

In despair, Bella returns to meet the Childlike Empress in defeat, noting she found no such person, "oh but you have" the Childlike Empress says and then Edward gets the truly surreal experience of being talked to by a book.

Like Bastian, it won't shut up until he gives the Childlike Empress a new name, which he eventually does, at which point he finds himself in Fantasia.

There, similar to Bastian, some of his first efforts are to change himself. He becomes human again, gallant, handsome, wise, a prince in every aspect, everything that is worthy of Bella in the novel (losing bits and pieces of himself along the way of course). To his dismay and anger, Bella doesn't love him, seeing that he's losing himself constantly and that what's left of him is a caricature of a man. Edward, too, forgets why he ever thought he loved Bella or the idea of this woman, and gets high on a power trip.

"I will declare myself emperor!" Edward says and... I imagine Bella does try to stop him but I'm not sure raising an army as Atreyu did is in her wheelhouse.

Edward might just kill her to obtain his goal at which point he damns himself and becomes one of Fantasia's many emperors.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the neverending story #the neverending story meta #the neverending story headcanon #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion #waywardhiker

[raytm]

AS  THE  PLANETS.

BOLD  always applies. italics  sometimes apply  /  are verse dependent. strikethrough  never applies.

i.    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐔𝐍. egotistical.     melted wax wings & fingers.     stretching sunburned skin.   the most generous soul.     blood in the fruit.     halos.     anger on fire.    high vitality.     thunderous laughter.     is pride really a sin?      halogenic aura. ii.   𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘. expansion of the mind.     silver—tongued.     an everlasting wanderer.     polyglot.     high dexterity.     handwritten letters.     innately critical.     en vogue.     eyes in the trees.     hidden libraries.     there’s always room for improvement. iii.    𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 . in love with strangers.     iridescent waters.     love potions for your mirror.     selfless devotion.     shattering crystal.     seafoam upon sand.     the golden ratio.     drowning in your own passion.         material value & high principles.      luring.     plush lips. iv.    𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇.  fresh springs.     tree hugger.     we can start again tomorrow.     a blazing rainforest.     respects survival of the fittest.      nature’s adversity.     lazy bones.      constantly evolving.     flowers sprouting from wounds.     a granite altar.     fossilized remains. v.    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍.  illusory.      silver shimmer off the ocean.     secrets & gossip.     cycles of reincarnation.     a crybaby.     physically ethereal.      shared glances with a stranger.    cat eyes.     mistrusting their intuition.     fear is a prison.     ornate magic wands. vi.    𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒.   healthy competition.    attraction & repulsion.     magma & rubies.     a blade being forged.    wrath,  wrath,  wrath.    malefic.     intense eye contact.     cannon fodder & fireworks.     blood floods.     copper taste on your tongue. vii.    𝐉𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑.   red robes & a suit of armor.     beacon of stability.    leader by birth.     thunderbolts & lightning.     guilty but can’t stop.     secret rich kid.    golden touch,  golden tears.     innate optimist.     failure isn’t an option.  constantly reaching for more.     unfinished symphonies.

viii.    𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍. traditional.     overbearing energy.    a sculptor of reality.     this existence is a karmic one.     has a heart ;  it’s just way down deep.     law,  order,  & justice.     avoid all necessary risk.     the sound of shackles clanging.     sisyphus’ struggle.       grappling with the reality of time.     self—governing. ix.    𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒.  psychedelic funk music.     overflowing cups.     a rebellion with skin.      looking good in photo id.     oblivious but caring.     middle fingers in the air.     double rainbows.     icy diamond exterior.     holographic.     afraid of their own mediocrity.      pearlescent smoke. x.    𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄.   an elegy for the lost.      dissolving boundaries.     white horses.     the burden of mystical conditions.     deceptive.   escapism is their reality.     a polarizing entity.    artist’s soul.     paranoia.     searching for the unseen.     a siren’s swan song. xi.    𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎.    angel statues over graves.    power.     the cycle of necrosis.     transformative.    unfathomable depths.     an ivory tower toppling over.     screaming at the sky.    violets & irises.    eclipsed darkness.     speaks with their shadow.     sex,  death,  rebirth.

tagged by: stolen ! tagging: steal it from me !

#the way my pc frozed 10000 times while trying to small font this jesus. #⋆⁺₊❅. 𝐺𝐸𝑃𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐴𝑈. › 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲. #long post /

[starsburned]

AS  THE  PLANETS.

BOLD  always applies. italics  sometimes apply  /  are verse dependent. strikethrough  never applies.

i.    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐔𝐍.         egotistical.     melted wax wings & fingers.     stretching sunburned skin.       the most generous soul.     blood in the fruit.     halos.     anger on fire.        high vitality.     thunderous laughter.     is pride really a sin?      halogenic aura. ii.    𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐘.         expansion of the mind.     silver—tongued.     an everlasting wanderer.     polyglot.     high dexterity.         handwritten letters.     innately critical.     en vogue.     eyes in the trees.     hidden libraries.     there’s always room for improvement. iii.    𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒.         in love with strangers.     iridescent waters.     love potions for your mirror.     selfless devotion.     shattering crystal.     seafoam upon sand.     the golden ratio.     drowning in your own passion.             material value & high principles.         luring.     plush lips. iv.    𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇.         fresh springs.     tree hugger.     we can start again tomorrow.     a blazing rainforest.     respects survival of the fittest.      nature’s adversity.     lazy bones.          constantly evolving.     flowers sprouting from wounds.     a granite altar.     fossilized remains. v.    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍.          illusory.      silver shimmer off the ocean.     secrets & gossip.     cycles of reincarnation.     a crybaby.     physically ethereal.          shared glances with a stranger.    cat eyes.     mistrusting their intuition.         fear is a prison.     ornate magic wands. vi.    𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒.   healthy competition.        attraction & repulsion.     magma & rubies.     a blade being forged.    wrath,  wrath,  wrath.    malefic.     intense eye contact.     cannon fodder & fireworks.     blood floods.     copper taste on your tongue. vii.    𝐉𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑.         red robes & a suit of armor.     beacon of stability.        leader by birth.     thunderbolts & lightning.     guilty but can’t stop.     secret rich kid.    golden touch,  golden tears.     innate optimist.         failure isn’t an option.      constantly reaching for more.     unfinished symphonies. viii.    𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍.     traditional.     overbearing energy.    a sculptor of reality.     this existence is a karmic one.     has a heart ;  it’s just way down deep.     law,  order,  & justice.     avoid all necessary risk.     the sound of shackles clanging.     sisyphus’ struggle.          grappling with the reality of time.     self—governing. ix.    𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒.          psychedelic funk music.     overflowing cups.     a rebellion with skin.      looking good in photo id.     oblivious but caring.     middle fingers in the air.     double rainbows.     icy diamond exterior.     holographic.     afraid of their own mediocrity.      pearlescent smoke. x.    𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄.   an elegy for the lost.      dissolving boundaries.     white horses.     the burden of mystical conditions.         deceptive.       escapism is their reality.     a polarizing entity.    artist’s soul.     paranoia.     searching for the unseen.         a siren’s swan song. xi.    𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎.    angel statues over graves.    power.     the cycle of necrosis.     transformative.        unfathomable depths.     an ivory tower toppling over.     screaming at the sky.        violets & irises.    eclipsed darkness.     speaks with their shadow.     sex,  death,  rebirth.

tagged by: i stole it from one of my older blogs so nyeh tagging: @frost-eyed-autumn, @lunargifted, @theircurse, @memoryextrction, @cursedlane, @cherrygardn, & anyone else that wants to tbh

#| MUSE ★ OSAMU DAZAI. #| HEADCANON ★ OSAMU DAZAI.