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written-in-flowers · 7 months

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Traditions and Expectations: Pt. 1

Pairing: Aegon II x SisterWife!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, slice of life

Word Count: 7k

Summary: It is Targaryen tradition for brother to wed sister, as you'd done with Aegon. But with no eligible son for your daughter, you've had to look elsewhere for a betrothal. The question is whether to abide by Targaryen traditions or allow your child to follow her heart?

Tags: chubby!aegon, domestic life, arranged marriages, canon-typical incest, brother-sister marriage, mother/daughter themes, family expectations, hubby/wifey stuff, smut, vaginal fingering, breast play, nipple play, multiple positions.

Tagged: @lovelykhaleesiii

***

Your mother decided you'd be Aegon's wife on your fourteenth nameday. It is customary in Valyrian tradition for the eldest son to marry his eldest sister. As Targaryens, one of the last families who escaped Valyria's downfall, you followed this tradition despite societal and religious norms in Westeros. You being the eldest daughter and Aegon being the eldest son, the betrothal was set and you'd be married when you both reached maturity. Your entire life people knew you'd marry Aegon. It was simply a fact you'd known growing up.

But, unlike your mother, you will not have it as easy.

You sat in the cushioned chair on your veranda which overlooked the small courtyard outside Maegor's Holdfast, and pondered on marriage. Down below, your eldest child, Daella, practiced her archery skills on targets in the training yard. Thirteen with cascading lengths of silver hair, Daella had beauty, brains and brawn. She stood tall and slender, a petite waist cinched by a leather belt. She is the epitome of beauty, but also strong and bold. It did not matter how many times you scolded her for wrestling with the stableboys and firing off arrows, Daella still did it. It got to a point that you gave into her adventurous nature, letting her ride off on hunts with her grandfather and uncle and take up archery.

You watched her taking out arrows from her cloth target, and wondered if her husband will let these passions flourish. Many Westerosi men dislike women who take on "men's sports' '. To them, ladies of noble status should stick to dancing and reading poetry, not participating in archery challenges and learning how to skin animals after a kill. Having a bride who can out-ride and out-shoot them might displease them, therefore ruining any chance of a betrothal. Were your eldest son, Baelon, born first and Daella second, they'd be undoubtedly matched. But Daella is much older than Baelon, who is your third child. Vaelen, your second boy and fourth child, is not a suitable match either. You and your mother concluded that Saera, your second child, would marry Baelon. Vaelen will likely marry the baby in your belly, or another noblewoman.

This means you need to find a husband for Daella. Most noble marriages are political ones, so naturally you'd want a lord that is close to The Crown and doesn't mind marrying a dragonrider. On the table beside you, you looked at the four scrolls you'd received today. You'd spent ages pouring over the different noble houses in Westeros, searching in vain for a husband that would please your daughter. She wouldn't marry just anyone. You told your mother you wanted Daella to have a happy marriage. You wanted her to experience the love and warmth you often felt with Aegon. In the end, it came down to four possible suitors.

Fourteen-year-old Tymond Lannister was a nephew of Lord Tyland, current Master of Coin. Lord Tyland told you all about his handsome nephew who could wield a sword, battle ax and morningstar. A boy like him, he said, could handle the fiery Daella. His father, Lord Jason, agreed to a possible marriage between his son and Daella. It would benefit both parties: The Lannisters are one of the wealthiest families in Westeros. Having them tied by marriage will ensure the wealth of the kingdom stays intact.

Twelve-year-old Osric Arryn is the younger cousin of Lady Jeyne Arryn. You heard about his jovial and tender hearted nature from people around him. A husband with a soft heart but a firm hand might intrigue Daella. Lady Jeyne’s reply alluded to them coming to terms over her dowry. Another good match for Daella and the family. The Arryns have a large army as well as The Eyrie, an impenetrable fortress. She will be well protected and cared for there, which mattered to you greatly.

Thirteen-year-old Edmure Tully is the auburn haired, freckled, strong man you thought Daella may like. You'd seen the boy once at a tourney, standing much taller than most his age with a man's body starting to grow. Being her age, she might relate to him better. His father, Lord Grover, told you while Edmure might seem hard on the outside, he had a heart of gold. A marriage pact with House Tully brings more security to them in the Riverlands.

All three of them accepted. All three of them are good matches. Yet, it is not these that give you pause. It was the fourth scroll that still remained unopened. You saw the aquamarine seal with the Velayron seahorse stamped in the middle, and hesitated. It had been several years since you’d last seen your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Since then, Jace has become Heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, married to Baela Targaryen. Luke lives on Driftmark alongside Lord Corlys, his grandfather, and his bride-to-be, Rhaena Targaryen.

It cannot be Luke who has reached out to you. You’d recalled hearing about Jace and Baela having children of their own. Admittedly, you couldn’t get the children’s names straight but you knew they had a boy and two twin girls. You picked up the unopened scroll, and rolled it between your fingers. Glancing back into the yard, Daella had switched from archery to axe-throwing. Ser Criston told you she’d become intrigued by it after seeing a man doing it at a tourney for your wedding anniversary. You only asked her to use the smaller ones to avoid injuries. Jace and Baela’s son must be her age. Your father received the news around the time you’d given birth to Daella. But, you might have that information wrong.

“Ah, there you are, my love.”

Aegon appeared from behind you, hands behind his back and a grin on his face. He gave you a soft peck on the cheek, and took the chair opposite you. A maid served him a cup of wine, which he drank from right away. You continued staring at the scroll in your hand, afraid to open it. You know what will be written inside. No doubt it was your sister, Rhaenyra’s, idea. A part of you considered the idea since Rhaenyra will one day be queen, and with Prince Daemon at her side, your entire family may be at risk.

“How are the children?” he asked you, looking down into the yard where his sons trained with Ser Criston.

“Fine. Daella’s aim is improving impressively,” you answered absentmindedly, not fully focused on him.

“Hm,” he nodded, “Vaelen’s swing is improving as well. I know he mopes about his sword training, but I told him it’s important for the sword to be as sharp as the mind.”

“Aegon.”

“Wife?”

“Jacaerys…He has a son, doesn’t he? I remember Father mentioning it once or twice before.”

“He does,” he said cautiously, holding a cheese cube in his hand. “I believe his name is…Gods, what is it?” he racked his brain for a moment, then said, “Aerys? Aenys? I don’t remember exactly. It starts with an ‘Ae’. Why do you ask?”

“I received a raven from Baela this morning,” you told him.

He popped the cube in his mouth, then actually looked over at you. Seeing the worry on your face, he asked, “And what does it say?”

“I am not certain,” you said. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

He picked up the scroll from Lord Jason, read it, then said, “Marriage proposals?”

“From Lannister, Arryn and Tully,” you told him. “They all agreed to make terms.”

“And that one is from Baela?”

“Yes,” you showed him the small paper with its seahorse seal.

“You wrote to them?” he asked, bemused.

“I had not. It came this morning with the others.”

Aegon looked at you, then said, “Are you going to read it?”

“I can’t,” you said, shooting out your hand to him, “You read it.”

“Darling, I do not see what the harm is in reading a letter,” he chuckled. Aegon took the scroll from you, and broke the seal. Your stomach churned when he read the first word, “Dear Princess YN, I hope this letter finds you and your family well. My sister, Rhaena, informed me that you and Aegon are making plans for a marriage pact for your daughter, Daella. As you know, Jacaerys and I have a boy who is her age named Aeron-Ah, yes, that’s the boy’s name!-” Aegon snapped his fingers with a satisfied smile, “I propose a marriage between our two houses. I understand the relationship between our families has been detached for several years. But, I have very fond memories of our youth, and I hope with this union we can begin to repair that breakage between us. My lord husband and I will be arriving in King’s Landing in a fortnight for Prince Baelon’s birthday tourney-Who told them about it? Did you?”

“Certainly not. It must’ve been Father or Rhaenyra.”

“Hm, I suspect as much. ‘I will be more than happy to discuss possible terms with you then. I eagerly await your response. Signed, Baela.’ Hmpf, how informal of her.”

‘Memories of our youth’. What memories? When Luke cut out your younger brother’s eye and never received punishment? When Luke and Jace teased Aemond for not having his own dragon? All the numerous times that your father favored Rhaenyra and any of her offspring over you and your siblings? You’d gone your entire life being told that when Rhaenyra ascended the throne, your family was a challenge to her rule. The eldest of Viserys’s children from his first wife, he’d proclaimed Rhaenyra his heir. When Aegon was born, he should’ve immediately been named heir to the throne, but he wasn’t. Now, Aegon showed no interest in being king and never mentioned a desire for it. But, with her husband Prince Daemon in her ear, Rhaenyra might feel threatened by Aegon and his four children.

Your children.

Not only your children, but your sister, Helaena, and brother, Aemond, too. Their children, twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, young Maelor, and baby Rhaenor.

Your uncle and Rhaenyra’s husband, Prince Daemon, is not well known for his kindness.

“What is your decision, love?” Aegon asked you, putting the letter with the others. “Marry our daring Daella to one of these lords or the unremarkable son of Jacaerys Velaryon?”

You looked out to the yard once more. Daella stomped her foot in frustration as her axe missed the target completely. A picture of Daella meeting Aeron and finding him insufferable came to mind. Your daughter got along well with most girls and boys she met, being sociable and charming to everyone. But, when she did not like someone, she made it very obvious. Sometimes too obvious. What if she met Aeron and disliked him? On the other hand, what if she didn’t? It’d be ideal for everyone involved. It is the most obvious choice. Everyone will say so. So, why were you so hesitant to say ‘yes’?

“I want her to be happy, Aegon,” you told him softly. “I want her to find love and happiness as we have. I don’t want her shackled to a man she isn’t at least fond of; having children out of duty instead of desire.”

“I am afraid, my dearest,” he took your hand gently in his, “That our union is incredibly rare in this family.”

“That’s not true,” you replied, finding comfort in his touch, “There is Aemond and Helaena as well.”

“Alright, then somewhat rare.”

“Mother, Mother!”

A voice caught your attention from behind and you turned to see Saera appear. In a dress of cream and gold, she reminded you of princesses in fairytales. Her silver curls tied into a simple plait down her back, her violet eyes struck most people immediately. So much like her father’s, but he insisted she resembled you. Saera, eleven years old, came rushing up to your husband, and sitting in his lap. She beamed at you as she spoke.

“I had my dress fitting for Baelon’s nameday,” she said. “Grandmother helped me pick out the colors for it.”

“Oh, was that today, love?” you asked her, slightly disappointed. You looked over your shoulder to see your mother walking in after her, in a gown of emerald green and black. Her signature Hightower color. “Mother, why did you not say anything?”

“You had more important matters at hand,” she answered, kissing the top of your head before taking up a wine cup. She spotted the letters on the table. “Any agreements?”

“They all accepted,” you told her. “There is one that has surprised me, however.”

“Oh? Who?”

You handed her the letter, “Baela Velaryon. She and Jace have a son Daella’s age.”

“Is Daella getting married?” asked Saera, who took up a bread with strawberry preserves on it.

“Not yet,” Aegon told her, playfully taking a bite of her bread to which she whined. “But, your sister is of age for betrothal and your mother has insisted we decide this very second who it will be.”

“It does not need to be ‘this very second’,” you replied. “I have received responses from Lords Lannister and Tully, as well as Lady Arryn. Any of their sons would make a suitable match for Daella, and their alliance could benefit our house. But then, I received Baela’s proposal.”

“And it gives you Pause.”

“It does.”

“Why, Mother?” asked Saera, smearing jam around her mouth as she finished her bread.

“It is complicated to explain, dove,” you told her kindly. “You’ll understand when you are older.”

“Saera, love,” Aegon said, lifting her from his lap, “Why don’t you go with Dyana to see your cousins, hm? I’m sure Jaehaera would love to see your doll collection.”

“Why can’t I stay?” she moped, getting off his lap but not leaving. “I want to know who Daella’s going to marry.”

“You’ll hear about it when we’ve made a decision, alright?” he promised, kissing her forehead. “Now, go. Dyana…”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Saera reluctantly left with the maid, and left the three of you alone. “Father will approve of the match highly,” you told her, returning to the conversation at hand, “And so will Rhaenyra. I bet anything this was all her doing.”

You thought about your elder half-sister. Rhaenyra was the daughter of Gemma Arryn, your father’s first wife. When she passed, King Viserys assumed he’d never remarry or have more children, so he named Rhaenyra heir to the throne. But then, he wedded your mother, Alicent Hightower. Any sensible king would’ve saved everyone the headache and named Aegon heir, but not your father. He valued Rhaenyra and her bastard sons more than any of his other children. He’d never do or say anything against her, no matter how severe the crime. You bitterly remember the night Aemond lost his eye in a fight with Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena. Your father should’ve demanded an eye for an eye or at least a serious punishment be dealt. But no. He told them to apologize and leave it at that. He’d never do anything to upset his precious Rhaenyra. It’d broken your heart when you visited your father’s sick bed, hoping to read to him, and in a medicated haze he’d called you ‘Rhaenyra’. When she had Jace, Luke and Joffrey, it became obvious they are not true Velaryons. They did not have the skin or hair of their father, Lord Laenor, but instead the coloring of Ser Harwin Strong. Commander of the City Watch.

This only soured the relationship between your families.

That resentment in you did not want your eldest daughter, your first born child, married to Rhaenyra’s grandson. Yet, the looming threat of Prince Daemon crossed your mind. If his grandson married your daughter, Rhaenyra will no doubt cherish any children they have.

“Princess Rhaenyra means well,” your mother said, taking Aegon’s seat when he offered it to her. “She will be our queen one day, whether we wish for it or not. I do not need to remind you that Prince Daemon-”

“-I know, Mother,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it out loud. “Rhaenyra…She is quite lovely to the children…”

“She adores them,” she agreed. She paused for a moment, “She put forward the coin for Saera’s and Daella’s nameday gowns.”

“What?” This caught both you and Aegon off guard.

“She has?” asked Aegon.

“She has,” she nodded. “She said princesses of the realm should always be dressed in fine splendor.” She looked between the both of you, then back to you, “YN, listen to me. Do not make the mistakes I have made when it comes to your children-”

“-Mother, you’ve never-”

“-I have,” she insisted. “Don’t pass down whatever grievances you have with Rhaenyra’s family to your children. They’re young. They should be playing and growing alongside their cousins, not being separated from them. A marriage between Aeron and Daella might work out for everyone.” When she saw you and Aegon unconvinced, she said, “Besides, it is tradition. The King will insist upon it should Rhaenyra bring it up.”

You wondered where this advice came from. During your girlhood, your mother constantly grumbled about ‘Rhaenyra’s sons’ and their baseborn features. It’d been her who often questioned their birth in private. Yet, since Rhaenyra’s return to King’s Landing, you noticed the pair becoming much closer these days. You’d spotted them walking in the gardens, sharing meals together, and working together to better the kingdom. You wondered what transpired to bring about this forgiveness and unity. Perhaps you can do the same. You gingerly accepted back Baela’s letter, and thought on it more. Baelon’s tenth nameday celebration would be in two weeks. You had plenty of time to think over your answer.

“Invite them all,” Aegon declared, picking at more cheese on the table.

“Invite who?”

“Lannister, Arryn, Tully, and Velaryon,” he said. “Daella can meet all their sons and see if she likes any of them.” Neither you or your mother said anything, he went on, “You said you wanted Daella to find love and happiness. She can only do that if she’s given multiple options instead of one. You’ve always been the romantic one out of us, and what is more romantic than finding love at a tourney?”

“Aegon…”

“YN, you know Daella. If we tell her to go left, she goes right. If we tell her the sky is blue, she’ll tell us it’s green,” he continued. “If we happen to invite all these suitors, she might take to one of them on her own.”

“She’ll suspect something.”

“She won’t if we all keep it to ourselves,” he responded with a smirk. You sometimes forget your husband’s cunning nature.

“Aegon has a point,” your mother told you. “Invite them all and we will see if she takes to any of them.”

You mulled it over in your mind, then nodded, “Yes. That seems the best route for this.”

“Ah! You fool, that hurt! Father!”

Vaelen’s contemptuous voice came from down below, and you saw your youngest sprawled on the ground at his brother’s feet.

“Well, get up and hit him, Vaelen,” Aegon called back.

“I’m tired!”

“Your opponent isn’t going to care,” he said. He grunted and put down his wine cup. “Time for me to intervene,” he looked over at you, “Write to them and personally invite them. Have the seamstress make her a special gown, and the jeweler can fashion a tiara for her. Something golden with rubies. Maybe sapphires or emeralds to stand out-”

“-I will see it is done, Husband,” you laughed, “Go see to your sons.”

He kissed you one more time before going down to the yard. Aegon lifted Vaelen to his feet, handing his sparring sword back to him, and spoke to Ser Criston.

You spotted Daella standing with Aemond, who was helping her pick out a selection of knives instead of axes. Aegon was right. A strong-willed girl like Daella won’t accept a marriage pact because she’s told to do so. If you wanted her to have a happy marriage, she’d need to find it on her own.

“I know you don’t like to admit it,” your mother began, drinking from her wine cup, “But Aegon is right.”

“Mother, how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Decide Aegon and I would be right for one another. At any point during our childhood, you could have decided to not marry us, but you did.”

Your mother stared at you for a moment, then she confessed. “I did not decide right away,” she told you. Seeing your raised eyebrows, she nodded, “Yes, that is a myth. I told your father I wanted to wait before announcing your betrothal. It’s a Valyrian tradition to wed brother to sister, so it made the most sense. But looking back on my own marriage and marriages of those around me, I was hesitant on my decision. I didn’t want my daughter to suffer a loveless marriage, never knowing true companionship or romance. I worried you might end the same way as I did with Aegon.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Aegon used to bawl his eyes out whenever we took you into another room. Your wet nurse would set you on the ground, and you’d immediately crawl over to him. As you grew, I saw how you behaved around one another. You enjoyed each other’s company over people at court. You spent nearly every waking moment together and refused to be apart for more than a few hours.” She smiled softly, looking out into the yard, “One day, I sat up here with your father while your brothers trained in the yard. You came out with Helaena, and you stood right there,” she nodded to an open spot that overlooked the yard, “And watched him. You didn’t say anything, or make yourself known to him. You simply watched him with this soft smile on your face, full of complete content.”

You nodded, vaguely remembering a day similar to that. “Then he noticed me there,” you finished for her.

“And the smile that you both shared,” she grinned, “Made up my decision. You stared at one another, fondness and love in your eyes. He then said, ‘Princess, my opponent begs for mercy. I shall make it your decision to spare him or deny him.’”

“And then I said to show him no mercy,” you laughed, remembering a young Aegon, long-haired and skinny, standing where Baelon did now.

“Aegon would do anything you asked of him,” she said. “Daella will find a similar love one day. Whether it be with one of the suitors or someone else entirely, she will have it.”

“Mother, did you see that?!” Daella’s voice called from the yard, beaming at you excitedly. “I hit the center! Look!”

You saw the thin blade stuck halfway into the target, and smiled at her, “Wonderful, darling. You’ll be an expert with your uncle’s instruction.”

She went back to her knife throwing, and you put aside any thought of arranged marriages and family feuds for the moment. You did have a nameday to plan, and invitations to send out.

“What does Saera’s gown look like?”

****

Knights, hedge knights, sellswords, and lords came from all over to attend Prince Baelon’s nameday tournament. You spent days planning feasts and gatherings that will happen throughout the week. Not only did each day have its own competition and accompanying feast, but the final celebration included performances by singers and mummers, magicians and animal performers, and several courses. You told the small council you’d spare no expense for your son’s tenth nameday. It would be a nameday to rival them all.

Yet, while handling all these duties with your pregnant belly, the thought of Daella’s marriage proposals loomed over your head. Neither you or Aegon brought up the subject around her, but she seemed to suspect a plot nevertheless.

“Lord Tyland visited the training yard this morning. He complimented my knife throwing skills,” she said to you at dinner the night before the tourney, “He said he couldn’t wait for me to meet his nephew, Tymond.”

“Well, he is very fond of his nephew, Daella,” your husband said first. “He talks about him as if he is the boy’s father. Perhaps he is hoping you two will meet and get along.”

“I wonder why he might have that idea,” she looked pointedly at you, “Mother?”

“The Lannisters have always been an ambitious family,” you told her. “Lord Tyland most likely hopes you will meet his nephew and grow fond of him. You are a Princess, after all. The King’s granddaughter and Prince Aegon’s daughter. Maybe he hopes a Lannister-Targaryen marriage would bring his family great fortune. Do not think anything of it, love.”

“Mother, I am fully aware that I have flowered now and am of marrying age,” she said to you.

“What does ‘flowered’ mean?” asked Baelon, chewing on string beans.

“It means she’s a woman,” said Vaelen. “I read it in a book.”

“Boys,” Aegon hushed them. “Yes, darling, you have flowered and are of marrying age, but your mother and I don’t plan to marry you for a long time. I recall telling you never to grow up so then you’d never marry and leave me, but,” he shrugged, drinking his wine, “Here we are.”

“You may have flowered, but you are still too young for marriage in my book,” you added.

“Not too young to make arrangements for me, though,” she retorted, cutting into a slice of beef and eating it. “Whoever he is, I won’t marry him.”

“Whoever who is?”

“Whoever you’ve both chosen for me,” she said. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to get married.”

“You are a princess of the realm,” you responded, “Marriages not only help politically but also continue our bloodlines and names. It is your duty as a princess and a Targaryen to marry to protect and continue-”

“-I don’t want to,” she snapped. “I won’t go through with it. I don’t want to get married to some stupid lordling who can’t find his backside with both hands.”

“No woman does,” you told her, “But as women of the realm-”

“-Surely there is more to being a ‘woman of the realm’ than marrying and having babies,” she remarked. “Why must we be stuck in this one role in life when there is so much more we can offer? Look at all women throughout history. Princess Visenya. Princess Rhaenya. Nymeria of Dorne. Look at Nana. Look at Aunt Rhaenyra. They’re both on the King’s council and have his ear. They’ve contributed more to the world than having babies.”

“Nana only became the queen because she married the king,” you said. “Rhaenyra may be the heir, but she married Ser Laenor and had children of her own. All the women you named married and had children to continue their legacy. How can you expect to continue a legacy without marriage or children of your own? Do you plan to live forever?”

“I won’t get married,” Daella repeated, having no real answer to your question.

“You will,” Aegon said more firmly, “We all have our part to play in this world and yours will be to marry.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Daella,” he groaned, “You are a princess. Some would say you’re born for this.”

“Was I now? I thought I was born because you and Mother wanted children; not because you must have them.”

“We did want to have you,” you implored her, “But it was also expected that we would. Daella, we’re not doing this to upset or hurt you. It is what every princess does: I did it. Helaena did it. Your sister will do it after you.”

“I don’t care who has done it before me,” she said, no longer focused on her meal. She stood up suddenly, “You can’t make me.”

“Daella…”

She spun around and left the hall. You leaned back in your chair, feeling dejected and defeated. Your eyes met Aegon’s.

“Will I have to get married one day, Mother?” Saera asked you, pushing her vegetables around on her plate.

“No,” Aegon said, “Because you vowed you’d never grow up and leave me. A Targaryen must keep to their word.”

He tickled her side and the mood in the room lifted. Yet, Daella’s forceful words stuck with you. You knew she’d never take kindly to the idea of marriage. Your daughter is a free spirit, a bird that wishes to fly untethered to any solid thing. A part of you felt guilty tying that bird down, but it did not need to be so. Aegon’s warm hand taking up yours caught your attention. You met his eyes, and saw the softness in them.

“I will speak with her,” he said, moving to stand.

“No, no,” you shook your head, standing up before him. “I will speak to her. This is a woman’s conversation, Aegon.”

He conceded, nodding and returning to your other children. You bent to kiss him, then left the hall towards Daella’s bed chambers. Rays of moonlight still shone between the pillars coming from the open courtyard, a cool breeze coming in from the city. This did nothing to distract you from your worries. Daella seemed to believe marriage stood in the way of her future greatness. She needed to know that it is not so. As you reached her room, you heard the faint, melodic voice from behind the door. Singing. Daella’s light singing voice reached you and you smiled. With a gentle knock, you opened the door.

“-I dream of fair maids of summer, with flowers in their hair-” you heard her sing quietly at her vanity, brushing a comb through her silver curls.

“-I dream of maids of winter, with snow in the air,” you sang after her, walking into the room with a disarming grin.

Her eyes found yours in the mirror, and her face soured. She stopped singing at once, pretending to be focused on her hair. You shut the door and approached her. Neither of you said anything as you took the brush from her, and began undoing her braids for her. Her curls went through your fingers like silk, shining in the faint candlelight glow.

“A bard sang that song on my wedding day, you know,” you told her, starting to gently run the comb down her hair. “It’s where I first heard it. I loved it so much, I asked him to sing it a second time. I thought it was such a beautiful song-”

“-I don’t want to get married.”

“As you’ve stated previously,” you nodded. “If you do not wish to be married, love, then what do you want?”

Daella did not speak right away. You saw the desire to speak plainly inside her, wishing to pour herself out to you. Though, the fear of being rejected or dismissed in favor of your own wishes disagreed with this. “You can tell me,” you assured her, looking at her in the mirror.

“I want to travel, Mother,” she told you, imploringly. “I want to see the world; go across the Narrow Sea and see the Free Cities and meet different people, and see different cultures. I want to go about the realm on my dragon, seeing my grandfather’s kingdom and meeting his subjects. You and Father used to go into the city all the time-”

“-Yes, but we still married,” you interjected. “My love, you do not have to choose one life or the other. Being married…” you took a breath, pausing your brushing to think. You never imagined having this conversation. You merely accepted your cards when your mother dealt them. “Being married isn’t being tied down to one place. It is not a prison sentence. It’s having a companion. It’s having someone to share those dreams with. You can still have a full and rich life whilst having that other person. Look at your father and I, we betrothed and still saw wonders together.”

“The Street of Silk is not a worldly wonder, Mother,” she drawled.

You tapped her shoulder sharply, “I meant the times that we went dragon riding together.”

“Where did you go?”

“Everywhere,” you answered. “We went as far as The Wall once. I told your father I wanted to see the world, and he promised me we would. Yes, we still visit our old stomping grounds from time to time, but that is nothing compared to our progress around the realm.”

“You? You and Father went on a progress together?” she looked back at you in disbelief.

“It’s originally been your grandmother’s idea,” you’d finished brushing her hair, but did not stop. You fondly remembered you and Aegon seeing the different castles and meeting the lords and ladies of the land. “Your father disliked the idea since courtly duties bore him to tears, but I told him it could be fun. We’d meet different people, and see new things. We went to The Wall to meet the Night’s Watch. We saw Winterfell and the big heart tree there. We went to the Maidenpool, and saw The God’s Eye from a distance. We visited The Twins. It was lovely.

You finally stopped brushing and told her, “Being married does not mean you’ll be forced to stay in one place. You’ll have someone else to share those new experiences with and grow together from them. It’ll bring you closer to them.”

“I doubt it,” she scoffed. “You’ll marry me off to some insipid little lordling who will insist on keeping me locked in a castle, having his babies and running his household for him.”

“No,” you replied. “I planned on marrying you to a man of your choosing.”

This information caught your daughter off guard. “You did?”

“I did,” you nodded. “At first, I will admit I sent out propositions to certain lords and ladies who have sons your age, but I’d intended for you to pick at your own leisure. You are not as fortunate as other Targaryen women to have ready-made brother-husbands,” you lamented, “But I hope you may find happiness like I did with your father. As with songs, I cannot pick that for you. You must choose whether you like them or not.

“Your brother’s nameday celebration will be a good chance to not only find a possible match, but perhaps make friends and allies outside of King’s Landing. Lord Beesburry has a granddaughter who also enjoys songs and dancing, and Lord Rosby has two who are fond of horses like you.” You put your hands on her shoulders, and said, “Do not worry about marriage for now, my love. Go to the tourney, seek out happy nights and enjoy your youth as I did.”

She smiled at you, the expression reminding you of your Aegon. “Thank you, Mother.”

You kissed her cheek and hugged her from behind, smelling the lavender in her hair. You left her to finish preparing for bed, and walked alone to your own chambers. Taking a seat at the vanity, you stared at yourself in the mirror while undoing your hair. You and Aegon took your progress right after your wedding. You’d never left home before, and you’d always wanted to see the world beyond King’s Landing. The promise of adventure and excitement encouraged you to take the leap into the unknown. Flying Moonfyre with his Sunfyre nearby, you felt like you could take on the world.

“How is she?” Aegon walked into your chambers, finding you by the vanity.

“Better than before,” you told him. “I explained to her that marriage isn’t the end of your life. You can still enjoy it while being with another person.”

He snorted, “Forgive me, my love, but I’m afraid not many lords would agree with you.”

You put down your brush and leaned on your elbows on the table. Head in your hands, you knew he was right. Adventure is not something lords think about unless they mean about themselves, while their wives stay home. “I suppose I can only pray then,” you decided, “That she finds what she wants.”

“It is the only thing we can pray for,” he said, coming up behind you and kissing your neck. “I sent the maids away for the night. Dyana and Myra are seeing the children to bed.”

You turned in your seat, smirking up at him, “Is that so? I wonder what reason you’d have to do such a thing. Myra needs to help me undress.”

His fingers ran up your back to the strings of your gown, “Undressing you should be my responsibility.”

He cupped your chin to kiss you lightly, then gradually continued until your lips locked together. “And it’s the only responsibility you’ll readily agree to,” you teased, standing up and kissing him.

“That and the children.”

“And the children,” you agreed.

Arms wrapping around you, you felt him deftly untying your dress, the cool night air brushing on the warm skin. You kissed him tenderly while undoing his belt, letting it fall to the ground. Unbuttoning the front of his jerkin, you slipped it from his shoulders to reveal the thin white undershirt. Aegon peeled off your gown down to your shift and bodice, which he undid with deft, swift fingers. That subtle heat you knew well started building in your lower stomach as he kissed down your neck to your collarbone; you felt up his arms to his shoulders, giving a light squeeze out of habit.

Much like you, Aegon appeared to gain a few pounds himself, no longer the lanky boy he’d been in his youth. Not that you cared in the slightest. You ran your hands down his chest to his breeches, where you untucked his shirt and removed it. He pulled at your shift until you became bare in front of him; his hands pawed at your hips and backside while kissing you deeply. A soft moan filled your mouth as his tongue slid inside, you untied his breeches and tugged them down until they fell on their own. You reached down for his cock while he grabbed at your breasts, groaning softly at the hand wrapped around his shaft. Then, he started walking you backwards towards your bed.

Falling down onto the soft mattress, Aegon’s lust burned hotly. He left soft kisses along your throat to your breasts, which he grasped gently. You whimpered, feeling him take position above you, his semi-erect cock against your bare sex. His cock twitched in your hand in every stroke, and you felt him grow harder and harder. Aegon suckled your breasts, rolling his tongue around each one before giving a delicate suck. You whined at the tenderness just as much as the roughness. One hand still on your breast, the other slipped past your belly to your sex, which dampened at the anticipation of his touch. Two fingers started sliding up and down your slit, dancing over the folds while yours did so along his member. You moaned at the fingers dipping amongst them to your clitoris, where your pleasure spiked inside you. It throbbed against his fingers, a thing he noticed and responded with a roll around your clit. Aegon never failed to pleasure the most intimate parts of you; he knew exactly how to get the fires burning within you, stoking them like logs inside a hearth. He groaned against your skin, gradually bucking his hips into your hand. You repaid the act with tender squeezes from hilt to head, using beads of precum to slicken his length.

“It’s too bad you already have one in there,” he grunted, pecking across your breasts to flick his tongue over one of them. “I’d love to give you another right now.”

"It is a shame, truly," you replied in a laugh, free hand going up into his hair and tugging the wavy curls. This move brought him back to your lips, which immediately locked with yours. "I never say 'no' to you filling me; not since our wedding night, when you took me over and over again just to make sure it took root inside me."

"Well, everyone made such a big fuss over it," he smirked above you. "I thought I might as well be thorough."

He kissed you right as he slipped two fingers into your fluttering sex. You kept yourself spread out for him, grinding against his hand to get it deeper inside you. It reminded you of all the times you'd both scurried off together to dark corners of the castle, heat in your cheeks and hunger fueling your desires. You remembered your journey around Westeros following your wedding, and all the places you'd coupled throughout the kingdom. A majority of them started exactly like this.

"Remember Maidenpool, love?" you asked, your thumb rubbing the underside of his tip.

He smiled, "Do I? I recall it often." He kissed you, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before giving a tender tug. "When you pretended to be a maiden again, flustered and ready to be deflowered by me..." he stopped touching, and pushed your thighs further apart, kneeling up and away from you. Hands on your knees, he lifted them up slightly and said, "I don't believe I've fucked you as hard since then."

You then sneered at him, fingers trailing down his front to his cock again, "But, Your Grace," you pouted, "Shouldn't you be careful with me? I have never gotten this far with a man before."

Aegon let out a shaky moan, and plunged himself inside you suddenly. Your body took a moment to adjust, but as he started thrusting pleasure and desire bursted inside you. Grabbing your hips, Aegon kept you in place in each push. You could feel his exact length and girth stretching and filling you every time your bodies met. It became a sensation you enjoyed.

"Your Grace," you whined, cupping your breasts to pinch your nipples, "Your Grace, please don't stop. Nobody's ever fucked me this way before. It feels so good."

He chuckled, violet eyes looking down at you in unfiltered lust, "Is that so? I find that hard to believe. A beauty like you has never had cock before?" he started pounding you faster, your breasts bouncing from the force and the sound adding to your grunts. "Not even an inch?"

"N-No, Your Grace," you replied. His tip started prodding your center, making you see stars as the orgasm slowly built inside. "No, never. Your cock's the only one I've-I've ever had." You started rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, keeping your breasts together with your arms so they continued bouncing. The light brush against your sensitive clit added to your pleasure. "Please, Your Grace, keep going. Don't stop. I want you to make me yours."

"Gladly."

He rolled you onto your front, face in the pillows, and entered you again. Aegon held onto your waist as you both met in the middle. The wet sound of his balls hitting your sex drive your passion further down. Just like in Maidenpool, and every time since, Aegon kept his strokes steady and deep. Hands reaching around to grasp your tits brought you up to a kneeling position, locking you close to him as he bottomed up into you. This new position made you see stars. Your sex tightened around him, your clit throbbed at his touch, and you didn't hold back your moans. The repeated, whispered phrase, 'Your Grace', amplified his arousal and you knew it considering his shaky breathing and low groans.

Your orgasm came all at once, quaking your thighs and tightening your grip on Aegon's arms as he kept you firmly in place. It blinded you to everything around you; Aegon became the only real thing in the room. Normally, you kept your volume down to not disturb anyone, particularly your children, but not tonight. Not now. Not when Aegon's thick shaft and reddened tip brought you to the end of your climax. His own soon arrived, his cock slipping out with a wet pop, and hot streams spilling onto your inner thighs. Mouth pressed to your shoulder blade, you could feel the vibrations from his throat against you. You held him close until he'd finished, dick still twitching against your thighs.

You both stayed in that position for several seconds, your warm bodies climbing down from the peak in every quivering breath. You collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. The pregnancy made everyday tasks tiring, and sex only worsened the fatigue. Aegon's arms snaked around your waist as he brought you close to his chest and kissed your shoulder. You thought of the sticky substance sliding around your thighs, knowing you should wipe it away but not having the strength in your arms to do so. So, therefore, your husband did it for you, however lazily his ministrations.

"Daella will be fine," he said, tossing the cloth aside. "She is a smart girl. She would never choose an empty-headed boy or a brute. If she happens to pick the Velaryon boy, well…accidents happen all the time.”

“Aegon,” you kicked him lightly and he laughed.

“I only jest, my love,” he assured you, kissing your neck.

“But, if she were to pick Jace’s boy?”

“If he makes her happy and treats her well, then I suppose I shall live with it.”

You shook your head in a laugh, intertwining your fingers with his to bring to your chest. Tiredness nearly drowned out the worries turning in your mind. Your childrens’ happiness is all you’ve ever cared about. This should not be any different. Daella will pick the right choice, and you’d side with whatever decision she made.

***

A/N: wow, it's been a while since I've written anything hotd. If you can't tell, this is part of my dad!aegon universe lol I hope you enjoyed this and give it a little reblog or a like.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aegon ii smut #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon fanfic

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piratefishmama · 1 year

Text

Pt1

It continues, also with Robin. She leaves Steve on that floor, pathetically cycling through this random metalheads video game music repertoire, sending a silent apology for her fallen friend to the lady in the apartment below them, sure she got to hear Steve practicing his songs every now and then which was a blessing, but she also now had to deal with his pathetic puppy crush as well.

Sorry two (definitely not house-trained) poodle owning lady, Robin sent her condolences for her hearing. But only a little condolence, one of those dogs had left a steamer in the elevator and it was a tall-ass apartment block. Karma really, sweet sweet karma.

It continued because Robin had a mild gift for hunting people down on the internet, it was a skill she’d developed and honed purely to hunt down the assholes who occasionally popped up on Steve’s insta with threatening messages and dumb as shit behaviours that a best friend refused to abide by. Steve had never allowed her to do anything with the knowledge, but one day, one day, the dogs of war would be released, and she would rain fury down upon them for making him make the sad puppy eyes.

He was just a dude, sure he grew up with wealthy parents, sure he had connections since birth to help him get to where he wanted to be, but… that didn’t make him any less of a soft-ass with a genuine love of sports, and sweaters, and listening to audio books in reading nooks with mugs of coffee like some kind of pinterest mood board model.

That didn’t make him any less of an actual mother hen to several child actors and young musicians ensuring they got fair treatment, ensuring they were never taken advantage of by the industry or the people around them.

It continued because within an hour of sleuthing, Robin poked her head back around from Steve’s guest room (read: Robin’s second home), and proudly announced “Found him!” As loud as she could to get over the cover of the final boss battle from Banjo and Kazooie that Steve absolutely did not recognise but was clearly vibing to.

“Found who?”

“Your mystery hater! He’s a—”

“Robin!! You can’t dox people!!”

“I’m not doxing him, I’m telling you exactly where he is so you can go confront him.”

“That is exactly what doxing is. How did you even find him?!”

“Dumbass posted a pic of a newspaper article that his friend wrote, which, uhm, that’s pretty cool I guess, but it had her name on it! All I had to do was search LinkedIn for her and boom, I gottem.”

“…Okay so he’s basically asking to be found is what you’re saying right now.”

“EXACTLY, can we go? Can we? I wanna see him squirm like a little bitch baby when you turn up to confront him.”

“All you’ll see is my pathetic attempts to flirt with him because I don’t know how I’d be anything but pathetic around him I mean have you seen his hands? Do you remember the Hemsworth incident? Do you remember the Hemsworth incident, Robin?” The incident in question involving a low doorway and a concussion that left him delirious in the fantastic arms of the God of Thunder.

“Do I remember you acting like a drunk school girl with her first crush around a guy with biceps bigger than your head? Yes. Yes I do. It was hilarious and you gained a handsome Aussie as a life-long friend out of that pathetic display—"

“I was concussed.”

“Drunk school girl. That doesn’t mean you can’t manage to charm a little bitch from Indiana, we’re from Indiana, we have common ground, you can bond with him!”

“Oh, because being born within the same state makes for such a conversation starter… should we really go?” Would that be stupid? Would that be crossing a line? Would that be absolutely batshit insane?

“For true love—" and champagne in First-Class "I think we should.”

“…Fine.”

Part 3

#Steddie #PirateWrites #ficlet #I DONT EVEN HAVE A NAME FOR THIS ONE #but it's in demand apparently so here #take it #Stranger Things AU

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lilys0evil0twin · 1 year

Note

Yandere Adam nsfw headcanons ( Record of Ragnarok )

Uuuuuuhhhhhh get ready for a ride, I put both sfw and nsfw since I came up with the whole story and needed it written 😂

SFW

Adam is an interesting yandere

Despite having a beautiful woman and two sons, whom he's very found of, Adam felt ... Bored? Trapped? Tired of the same thing? ... Uncomplete?

But what could be the reason, he has everything he ever wanted, he has peace, a loving family, save home.... Total Paradise

And yet it was not enough

After their banishment from the Paradise, the first humans explored the earth, their new home, except they weren't alone

After seeing you for the first time, Adam knew you all should stick together, call it an animal instinct, a hunch if you will, but Adam's urgue rooted from something else

His sons Abel and Cain were enthusiastic about you joining too, a lil more than Eve but she was happy for her husband nonetheless

You on the other hand had this feeling of uneasiness, sure you'd accepted the offer right away, it better to be together than alone, and despite you felt more save with them, there was still this little cricket chirping in your ear

You fell into the family relatively quickly, Abel and Cain saw you as another parent those two pranksters loved your hugs and kisses

Eve, being the kindhearted girl she is, accepted you surprisingly quickly, she admired how her sons loved you and you handled them with ease, she loves talking to you when out gathering fruits, flowers and herbs

And then there's Adam, he kept his distance, straining away from physical touch (such as hugs, cuddles or sleeping on each other to maintain warmth) yet he kept you safe, fed and happy

Never saying it out loud, but he hated how his sons loved you, how comfortable they were around you, how comfortable you were with them touching you

He taught them not to take what's not theirs

So one time he just decided it's enough and told his sons off, he taught them about hierarchy of this family

NSFW

When the time comes, Adam feels this tingling in his abdomen

He's even more distant and keeps to himself, but acts more predator like

Staring unblinkingly from across the field, like he wants to hunt you, like you're his pray

Remember how he taught Abel and Cain a lesson? well now they're not allowed to even exist near you or him

Adams mood really determines his actions, he may be cold and feral or warms and soft

Either it is the time to fuck is when he says it's time to fuck, doesn't really care if you or him are doing something or if you don't want to, doesn't really care where you are or if you're alone

One second you may be climbing up the tree for sweet apple and the next he's pounding into you, or you may be looking over Abel and Cain with Eve and then you're held down with Adam between your legs keeping your ankles on his shoulders

Most of the times, it's right after the thought strucks his mind, and wearing only leafs or plants for coverage it's just an easy access

As said before, his mood palys the main cards in his actions

If he's calm and happy, just a little horny, he'll enjoy his time with you and will make sure you do too

Vice versa when he's not in the best mood or god forbid if he's angry over his sons and whatnot, this reflects on his behavior

Not that he's verbal or shows his anger nor directs it to you, no rather fucks you till you pass out, moving faster harder and cares very little about your sweet sports

Either of these sessions never end after one round, no no Adam is going till his balls are empty, until he can't cum anymore

Adam never lets any of his precious seed get wasted, whatever position you're in, his cum ends up inside, doesn't matter where, but it needs to stay inside

That is why he's doing it, that's how he understands ejaculation in general, why would his body excerete something when it's not supposed to stay in the other?

Eve learned to accept you as another partner of her husband and if Adam alows it she'll be happy to join~

#record of ragnarok smut #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #ror adam #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv x reader #snv adam #yandere #yandere smut #yandere boy #x reader smut

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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kind of angsty and maybe a bit too cruel but,,, vampire hunter könig with vampire engel who he only allows to feed when she does things the way he wants her to?

i feel like in a way he would pretend that he doesn't actually understand how much she needs blood and how strong the urge to feed is, how it's unlike food for humans and the effects of starving could be much worse for her

like she could be crying and shaking and telling him that it just feels so bad, it's borderline painful and könig is just like "well you were being bad, liebling :( you know i have to do this"

although when he does let her feed she's only allowed to drink his blood and not allowed to call him out on the fact that he very obviously enjoys it

Oh my god poor Engel?? Whatever has she done to deserve such a cruel master?

But of course she’s drawn to him, far more powerful than any vampire she has ever seen, which is simply an insult to the laws of nature because he’s a mortal… And yet he seems to possess the strength of a 400-year-old vampire and the will of an entire mountain, Engel is just smitten, watching him from afar night after night, playing around with the thought of having a taste of that mesmerizing, cruel man who seems to hunt her kind purely for sport.

He takes the villager's money and gets blessed by the priest, but he’s far from a holy warrior. Oh no, she knows that look: it’s the same piercing stare a vampire has just before he’s about to feed.

That man is not here to do God’s work, he’s not here to help, he’s here to feast. Still, the brutal knife strapped to his thigh never makes her shiver. Not even the wooden stakes he carves out of white oak strike fear in her cold, dead heart. No, she’s basically quivering with the need to sink her little teeth in his neck and see if this big alp of a man would moan.

And one night, König does wake up to the feeling of a woman’s cold mouth on his throat, a mouth that turns hot the minute she draws blood. He should be alarmed, realizing in an instant what’s going on but not being able to help the fact that he’s getting hard, that his arms slowly rise to lock around her waist. She gets scared – do Nachzehrers even get scared? – and withdraws, and Gott, she’s even more beautiful than in the picture they gave him…

He’s been hunting for over thirty years, leading a lonely life, a brutal life, the acts he’s done slowly distorting him into the crazed madman he’s called nowadays. And sometimes he feels he’s becoming the very thing he hunts, losing himself in the carnage, enjoying the killing – perhaps he has stared into the abyss for far too long...

But this is the most beautiful abyss he has ever seen: frightful eyes shot wide, mouth pretty and red with his blood, lips parted and revealing two pointy, perfect little canines, the prettiest he has ever had to pleasure to behold and, well… he has always wanted a pet.

“Don’t stop,” he rasps, and not out of weakness. The man doesn’t look at all like he’s about to faint even though she already took three long gulps from him. He should be getting pale by now, and she doesn’t want to kill him – no, she wants to return to him again and again, try other spots in his body, and then escape just before he can seize and destroy her.

Humans, even the big ones, should not be able to wrestle her down after she has drawn so much blood, but he’s holding her prisoner with ease: the hands around her waist are pure, warm muscle, the body under her is hard and strong and so, so very alive.

She was always told to avoid the hunters because they know much more than the others, she's been warned that they will eventually catch her if she kept playing with them.

She knows she shouldn’t be here but... she just can’t help herself sometimes. And perhaps she kind of did expect to be gripped in an iron hold… perhaps she even yearned to be held by him. But she didn’t expect him to ask for more.

Three weeks later, she still hasn’t had enough of him, quite the contrary.

They’re now travelling together, as sick as it sounds – she even has her own coffin, made out of oak too and hauled around in a carriage where König throws his bag of stakes. They make an odd pair, the impale tools and her lonely bed (oh, how she wishes she could sleep with him, or that he could join her in her coffin). The stakes still don't make her shiver, or if they do, then they do so only in the most endearing way.

She thought she would eventually wear him down, that he would become soft and pale and lethargic after being treated like blood cattle. But he doesn’t. If anything, it’s she who’s getting pale and weak. She’s slowly losing her powers from being around him for so long: her sight and hearing only catch König because he has the strongest heart of them all, and he never lets her feed when she wants to. Not even when she needs to.

He wants her frail and begging before she gives it to her, and not even his moans, the pure pristine sounds of pleasure she finally gets, not even the fact that he’s petting her hair while she uses him, not even the thrilling phenomenon that’s happening in his leather pants when she puts her mouth on him is able to satisfy her hunger.

It should be impossible for a vampire to love, but sometimes she catches herself wondering… is she in love with König?

Is she in love with a mortal man who lets out deprived groans and gets an erection from the softest graze of her fangs? Who hunts her kind with a bloodlust that surpasses even the passions of a vampire? Who’s clearly not only insane but also ostracized, hated and feared by his own people?

But the question that haunts her the most as she retreats to her cold coffin while König turns the carriage toward yet another mountain path is: does he even love her back…?

#answered #könig x reader #supernatural au #vampire au #vampire hunter!König

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bluelancess · 3 months

Text

Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU part 1/?

Sports romance, college AU.

Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.

Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn

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Read on AO3.

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Chapter 1

I never saw you coming

ELAIN

I never thought the house where I’ve only lived for a year would become the place I’d end up calling home, but here we are.

It’s a two story brick structure, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The kitchen is big enough for me to spend dead moments baking, and discovering new recipes, the living room is open, and gorgeous, with a somewhat high ceiling, a chimney and big windows that showcase the back patio beautifully. My favorite thing, no doubt, is the garden. The one in the back to be more exact. It is the main reason why I fell in love with this property last year when my sister Nesta, and I were hunting for a place to live during the school year.

The big patch of land was pretty much dead.

The landlord said he didn’t have time to waste planting flowers or trees, and laughed at me when I mentioned the immense potencial this place has. Right now, is unrecognizable from how it was when we moved in. I have a little vegetable garden at the far right corner, the newest addition, it has been a pain on my butt to get the flimsy vegetables to grow, but I think I’m going in a good direction.

Right below the windows, there are planters with my favorite flowers, when some of them get to big to share the space I move them into either the soil along the sides of the wooden walls separating this property from the ones beside it, or I give them their own special little planter and distribute them along the backyard's sitting area. It depends on my mood, really.

Anyway, I haven’t been here in two months, since last semester ended, and summer break began. Father has us stay with him during vacations, and holidays, and although I wanted to sneak out and come check and make sure my flowers were nice and watered, he didn’t allow it. Good thing I decided to ask Mrs. Wade to help me during the months I’d be away. Being the sweet old lady she is, she agreed in a heartbeat, only demanding I bake her some of my special chocolate chip cookies once I returned.

I’ve been anticipating coming back here so much, that feeling absolutely nothing when I do, wasn’t really what I was expecting.

Guess it has everything to do with the silly, little fact, that I’m getting married in six months.

Twenty-six weeks.

A blink of an eye, in wedding planning time.

Even worse considering I don’t even know the man I’m supposed to marry and spend the rest of my life with.

Father and his dreadful ideas you can't refuse.

“We should call the police,” Nesta says, sitting angrily at my side by the breakfast table, although her eyes remain glued to the little kitchen window, it has an excellent view to the house on the other side of the street. “Look at them! They totally sell drugs.”

She crosses her arms, and furrows her thin brows, her mouth is slanted on a grim pout. I blink, rapidly, trying to make sense of her words. I have no idea what she might be referring to, but Nesta has a reputation of hating everyone and everything that crosses her path, so I don’t take her words very seriously.

“Sure,” I reply, bringing my cup of tea to my lips for a sip. It’s cold, and doesn’t taste as good as it usually does.

How long have we been sitting here in the kitchen? We got back here at lunch time, and we've been cleaning and setting things up all afternoon. It feels like just seconds since I boiled water to have a nice cup of tea and relax a little, but considering my cup is still full, and mostly cold... I have a habit of drifting too far into my thoughts and having trouble coming back.

“I’m serious, Elain.” She insists. “It would be just our luck to end up being neighbors with…” she points at them with a firm and accusing finger, “jerks like that.”

I look out the window, and my lips part when I see the reason of my sister's fury.

Three guys. All tremendously tall, broad shoulders, dark hair, tattoos covering their tan skin. All of them, shirtless, wearing low rise sweat pants, laughing and playing around like little kids on the front yard, bottles of beer in their hands.

“Who was the owner of that house, again?” Nesta asks, still not turning around to look at me. “Didn’t our landlord mention he knew them? Maybe he can get me their number, I’m sure a call would solve this.”

“I don’t see the problem,” I say and she lets out a tiny, frustrated groan. “They’re just guys. It might be nice to have someone our age living near us, for the first time in forever.”

“You say that now, but when you can’t sleep because of the noise they’ll make throwing parties… then you’ll agree with me.”

“You like parties.” I point out.

“Not when I want to rest.” Nesta points out. "You're so unbothered because your bedroom isn't the one looking out into the street."

Her bad mood makes me smile a little. What can possibly be bothering her so much? She loves male company most of the time.

“Are you sure that’s really the problem here?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Now she looks at me, with liquid fire in her eyes at the accusation. I giggle. She might think she is hiding her true feelings well, but I know her better than she’d like to admit. She's spent all summer away from men because father would be furious if he found out one of his daughters is sleeping around, the tabloids would go crazy if it got leaked to the press, and he'd probably cut her allowance off. Which is why she behaved.

But father is not here. And if some guy is stupid enough to not recognize my sister as the eldest daughter of our soon to be governor, then it is fair game for her.

“What are you guys talking about?” Feyre asks, coming into the kitchen wearing a knitted sweater and denim shorts.

“Nesta is drooling over those guys.”

“I'm absolutely not!” Nesta says, standing up to point towards the window, moving the think, embroidered curtain to a side, to show Feyre the show. “I’m just saying that they don’t look like the kind of guys you want to have as your neighbors. They probably cook meth in the basement.”

Feyre’s mouth opens and her eyes follows the three muscled man like a hungry beast following their prey. When she notices this, she shakes her head and takes a step back, awkwardly walking towards the fridge to retrieve a chilled bottle of water.

“They’re fine… I mean, they don’t look like meth dealers,” she says, and clears her throat. “How come you guys never mentioned you had such hot guys living only a couple feet away, huh?”

“Because we didn’t.” Nesta says, looking out of the window again, I’m pretty sure she’s giving them her signature death stare. “The house was empty last semester.”

Feyre shrugs.

“I don’t see the problem.” She brings the bottle water to her lips, peeking through the window once more.

“That’s what I said.”

“You two are too naive.” Nesta says, and then in a flash, her back straightens, and her shoulders tense. “Motherfucker.” She mutters, shaking her head from once side to the other so violently, the braid on the top of her hair looses a bit. “I know who these idiots are!”

“What?” I ask, standing up from the table, to peek at the window with them. Feyre is pretending not to be as intrigued as she is, and Nesta is just spewing curses. “Who are they?”

“The fucking hockey players, you know, the Night Beasts. Won the hockey tournament last year, or whatever it is called.” She says, and right as the words come out of her mouth, one of the guys, the tallest one, with shoulder length dark brown hair, half of it put up on a messy man bun, looks straight at us, the mischievous smile in his face only growing. “Is he looking at us?” Nesta lowers her voice as if she spoke a little louder he might listen, and the three of us freeze in place.

“Can he even see us?” Feyre asks.

“The window is glass, of course he can see us, Feyre.”

"I meant from that far."

And then, after a beat, the guy blows us a kiss and Nesta seems to me fuming at the ears.

“Cocky bastard,” she says, closing the curtain and grabbing our arms to get us away from the scene of the crime. “That’s it. I’m kicking them out.”

“You can’t kick them out, it’s not your house.” Feyre says, leaving the water bottle on top of the breakfast table, looking at me with concern. Neither of us really understands exactly what has Nesta so riled up, but she’s not listening to reason right now, and she most definitely won’t stop until all the anger boiling inside her disappears.

“What are you going to do?” I ask, following her with quick steps towards the main entry of our house. She rapidly puts on some shoes, fixes her braid, and storms out the house with a very scary aura surrounding her.

“Should we go too?” Feyre asks at my right. “She might kill them.”

“She won’t kill them,” I assure her, not sounding sure at all.

“Hey, you assholes! This is a family neighborhood.” We both hear her scream, and come to the silent agreement that yes, we should probably go stop her. Feyre moves faster than I do, crossing the threshold in three long, clean steps.

“Hey, there!” The tall guy says, waving a hand at us. “Maybe you should get binoculars next time, my abs are more impressive up close. That is, if you don’t have the balls to actually cross the street, our door is always open.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Cassian.” One of the guys say, he’s the shortest of the three, not less handsome, his torso also covered in dark ink, hair short, and perfectly combed. He looks friendlier than his friend. As soon as I join my sisters, I notice that Feyre’s feet are glued to the floor, her stare unmoving from the new guy’s face, and when he notices my sister, his eyes glisten at the attention, his smirk grows, and then he has the audacity to wink at her.

Feyre’s cheeks turn rosy pink, but she rolls her eyes.

“This is me being polite, Rhys,” Cassian replies, not breaking the eye contact with my sister, and hey, props to him for having the balls to face Nesta, not many have survived.

“Ladies, I’m sorry my brother here has the manners of a brute,” Rhys says, walking slowly to the side of the street, right where their front yard ends.

“I couldn’t care less about your brothers manners,” Nesta says. “This is a residential street, parties or loud noises after ten p.m are not allowed. And you don’t look like the kind of guys that live a very… quiet life. So, pack your shit up, and find somewhere else to live.”

“Nesta…” Feyre warns.

“Wait,” The Cassian guy says, pointing at my sister with one of his fingers. “I remember you.”

“What?” Nesta says, and I approach my sister until I’m standing next to Feyre.

Cassian laughs, throwing his head back as he does, like he can’t really contain it. “Don’t play dumb, now.”

“You don’t know me.” Nesta states as a fact.

“Oh, I know you,” he shoots back. “Very well, I might add.”

Nesta arches a brow. And the tension between them is so strong, it’d probably give you whiplash if it cut in half.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The alley behind Elysian the last week of February? Ring any bells?” He teases her, and I chew the inside of my cheeks, watching their word war is like waiting for a grenade to explode.

Now it makes more sense why Nesta was so riled up by the presence of these men. She would’ve never admitted it to us, though. Not if we tried to pry the truth out of her with the worst kind of torture. She’s closed off like that when it comes to the men she dates, or sleeps with. Dating is not really on her dictionary.

“Seems like you have it committed to memory,” She teases him back, and Feyre looks at me surprised, biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. “Can’t say the same, I don’t waste time remembering guys who are… underwhelming, to say the least.”

Cassian’s confident smile disappears in a blink.

“You gave me a fake phone number, you know?” He tells her, like he’s wanted to say that to her for months, but never had the chance.

“Oh, I did?” Nesta feigns innocence. “Guess I couldn’t be bothered to remember my real one.”

Feyre chuckles beside me, then clears her throat. “We should go back inside.”

“I’m done here, anyway,” Nesta says, turning around on her heels. But before she can fully go back to the house, she says to them, lifting a single finger in the air: “One transgression to my rules, and I’m calling the police.”

“You’ll be joining in on the fun soon, gorgeous, don’t worry,” Cassian tells her, his confidence is back in place, like Nesta never gave a life threatening punch to his ego.

“In your dreams, asshole.”

“Believe it or not, my dreams come true all the time,” he tells her. “Mostly the dirty ones.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, and goes back inside of the house, closing the door with a bang.

“Sorry about that, my sister can be… a little intense.” Feyre says.

Cassian looks over Feyre's shoulder, like he's hoping to get one final glimpse of Nesta. “Just how I like them.”

“Cass,” Rhys warns and Cassian shuts his mouth, then Rhys turns his attention to feyre. “We won’t bother you. Much.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Feyre says, also turning back around to go inside the house. “It’s Nesta the one you want to keep… content.”

“Will do,” Cassian replies, fast as lighting, like he’s accepting a challenge and he hasn’t even realized it yet.

“Good luck with that.”

Feyre takes a couple steps towards the porche, and knocks on the door. Nesta completely forgot we were outside with her when she decided to do her grand exit.

I’m about to follow my sister, when a new, rich, and velvety voice that we hadn’t heard before reaches my ears.

“We are throwing a little get-together tomorrow night,” he says. I look up at the sound, and my mouth dries at the sight of the man in front of us, my breath catches and my heart pounds so fast, all I can hear is the frantic heartbeats. High cheekbones, and a boyish grin on his face. Short dark hair like his friends, but a little messier. I hadn’t noticed him before, standing on the porche, like hidden by the shadows. Now, he’s all I can see. “You should come.”

“Azriel is right, you should come. It’ll be something small, I promise,” Rhys says, also walking back towards the house, putting one hand on top of the shoulder of his friend. “A one time thing, even. To kick start the year. I’m sure your sister won’t mind if it’s a Friday, correct?”

Azriel.

He looks down at his sneakers, but there’s a tiny smirk on his lips, the right side of his mouth lifting up slightly more than the left. Then his eyes look up again, directly at me, and my knees buckle, like they want to give in at the heavy weight of my body. God, he’s beautiful.

Beautiful, like it should be forbidden, illegal, to be.

Men like him don’t exist in real life. They just don’t.

And it is so unfair, so unfair, that he happens to live so close.

“Will there be booze?” Feyre asks, and Rhys smiles at her.

“What kind of booze do you prefer?”

She takes a couple seconds to answer, chewing on her lower lip, gloating at the way the guy can’t keep his eyes off of her.

“I really like wine.” She replies. “Good wine, though.”

“I’ll get you the best.”

She smiles even broadly.

“Great,” Feyre knocks on the door one more time, and it opens with an angry force, I chuckle when I see Nesta walking away with heavy and furious steps towards the stairs. “I’ll bring my boyfriend.”

And then Rhys is not smiling anymore.

“Come on, Elain.” She tells me and I giggle. “Wanna order pizza for dinner?”

“Sure.” I turn around and wave at them. “Goodnight.”

Rhys and Cassian grunt, twin annoyed grimaces in their faces.

But Azriel... he smiles at me.

And then waves back softly.

---------

hi! thank you so much for reading! I've been wanting to write an ACOTAR fanfic in a modern setting for so long, and i finally have the time (and the ideas) to do it, so i really appreciate you taking the time to read it! I will be updating it as i go, i hope to post regularly, so we'll see!

i´m also posting this on AO3, so it'd be great if you guys could go support me there as well! <3

ps. i always say this, but english isn't my first language, so i apologize if there are any mistakes<3

#elriel #elriel AU #elriel fanfic #pro elain #pro elriel #pro azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #feysand #elriel college sport romance AU

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steveshairychest · 1 year

Text

Been seeing a lot of posts about punk Steve and I love it.

His whole life has been dedicated to pleasing his parents. He wears the clothes they put in his cupboard, he plays sports just like his dad did, he tries to keep on top of his grades but whenever he asks his parents for help they ignore him, tell him it's something he should alreadly know.

Nothing he did was ever enough.

When his grades drop and he loses interest in sports, his parents start spending more time away. He's not turning out like they hoped. He gets into fights, fails his classes and made the mistake of telling his mum he didn't want to go to college. That was it. He wasn't useful to them anymore.

He starts to hate his appearance. He looks exactly how they wanted. Prim and proper with his perfectly ironed clothes and stupid perfect hair. Nothing about his appearance was his own choosing. His dad made him get braces in middle school because he had a slightly crooked tooth, his mother made him go to the salon with her to get his eyebrows done and his lashes tinted. "You need to impress a beautiful young lady, Steven." She would say while pinching his cheek way too hard. His hair routine was also something she had drilled into his head since he was a kid because "Looks are everything, Steven." He never got a say in anything, not even what went in his own god damn closet was his own choosing.

He was only allowed to wear the latest fashion and nothing could be from last season because Mrs Harrington would be shunned by the other mother's if her son was caught wearing something out of date.

He decides to shave the sides of his head as a way to take control of his own life. Watching the hair fall to the floor is like a breath of fresh air, he inhales deeply and feels a sob catch in the back of his throat as he fixes up each side. For the first time in years, he actually likes who he sees in the mirror.

He starts to experiment with different clothing styles and finds comfort in the punk aesthetic. He flicks through countless magazines admiring the outfits and piercings and the smiles on all the model's faces. They look so free. So happy. He wants that for himself.

The next time his parents come home, Steve has dyed his hair pink with the help of his new friend Robin that he met at his new job at Scoops Ahoy. He's wearing a leather jacket with a ripped shirt underneath, Robin has just started getting him into the music side of things and the band on his shirt is his favourite. He's also wearing black jeans with giant rips that show off the small stick and poke tattoo just below his knee. Him and Robin got matching ones.

His parents stay at a motel that night and the next morning they cut him off completely but he doesn't care. He's finally found himself and he's got a new best friend that he can house hunt with.

#SORRY THIS IS A BIT LONG #but yeah #shrugs #this got out of hand #stranger things #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #punk steve harrington

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totesnothere04 · 1 year

Text

Unexpected Turn of Events Pt. 2

Tonowari x Fem!Reader

I do not own ANY of the fanart or screenshots used with my fics.

Pt.1 here. Pt.3 here.

You ended up sitting in his family's marui so he could prepare food for everyone instead of just you. You get up to try and help him, but he shooes you back to where you were sat.

"Is there a reason behind you being nice enough to make me food?" You asked the intimidating man infront of you.

"Is this not a custom that humans have when they court a potential mate?" Tonowari asks and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

"M-mate? But I'm human." You say and he looks you up and down.

"Were human. You're Na'vi now, and a very beautiful one at that." Tonowari says.

"In any case, I haven't passed an iknimaya so I am not an adult in the people's eyes." You said and he smirked.

"I can train you." He said as he set down a leaf with a serving of food on it. At this point, his children ran into the marui and stopped in their tracks.

"Hey (Y/n)." Tsireya said as she grabbed herself a serving of food and sat down next to you. Ao'nung grabbed his food and sat across from you, and Tonowari sat down on your other side.

"So you're not human anymore." Ao'nung said.

"Really? I couldn't tell." You said and Tsireya laughed lightly while Tonowari held in his laugh.

"Ha ha. Are you planning on training now?" Ao'nung asked and Tonowari nearly jumped at the chance to answer his son.

"I will be teaching her. To hunt, to breathe, to ride an ilu, and eventually a tsurak." Tonowari answered his son.

"I better keep my med kit handy. I can't say I'll be a natural. I've been in the books since I was a kid." You said and they looked at you oddly. "Oh books? They're uh paper stacks that have information on the front and back of every page." They still didn't have the idea fully grasped but didn't say anything about it.

"We will start tomorrow to test your breath endurance." Tonowari said and you nodded.

"I mean I was on the swim team in high school and college. It's how I paid for my schooling." You said. "Uh competitive swimming is a sport on Earth."

"The only thing that sounds fun about your planet." Ao'nung joked and you laughed as well.

"It was sometimes, but there were some people that were too into it. They'd cut any and all hair off of the body so they could slice through the water faster." You told him and he looked even more confused. "Anyone here would've been able to outswim all of those people. I mean you're naturally evolved to be in the water. I mean this is a fin... You can't tell me otherwise." You say as you run your fingers over the fins on the side of your left arm. Tonowari snatches your hand and looks at it.

"I think... I think the Great Mother cleansed your body of all demon blood. Only three fingers and a thumb." Tonowari pointed out and you were surprised. You hadn't noticed that it was different from Jake's.

"I assumed that I would have four fingers like Jake." You said quietly then looked outside to notice it was approaching eclipse. "I should probably go home and rest it's close to eclipse." You say as you stand. "Can I help clean up?"

"No, you were a guest. Plus it's my turn to clean up after dinner." Ao'nung says.

"I will walk you home." Tonowari volunteers and the two of you set off in the direction of your home. "We will need to get you clothes that fit you." He says breaking the silence you look down at your body and realize how your clothes sit on you.

"I didn't even realize how much smaller my clothes are on me now. I'll start weaving a new outfit." You say and he nods.

"Until it is ready I know the weaving circle will most likely have extra pieces they've made. So long as we make an exchange with some extra material they'll be willing to part with them." Tonowari says and you stop outside of your marui.

"Thank you for dinner, and allowing me to care for Kiri." You say.

"That's the issue. Tsireya was not fully trained to be Tsahík before her mother passed away. You said Ronal implanted her wisdom into your mind. She did that so you could complete our daughter's training." Tonowari said. "I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight Tonowari. I look forward to you teaching me." You say as you disappear into your pod and close the flaps loosely. You never fasten them in fear of being needed to tend to someone during the night. You lay down on your mat and fall asleep quickly.

The next day you were awake bright and early, ready for a day of training with Tonowari. You prepared yourself a quick breakfast, ate, then left your marui. You found a good place out in the open so it would be easy for Tonowari to see you when he was ready to start. You decided to start working on your breathing and slowing your heart rate. You had sat in the same spot only for about half an hour when footsteps approached you.

"I see you're ready to go." Tonowari said as he reached you.

"Yes. I didn't want to keep you waiting." You said as you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

"We will start with diving, move into riding an ilu, and finish with learning to hunt." Tonowari says and starts making his way over to the docks. You get up and follow behind him as you fiddle with the top the aunties gave you this morning. "Let me see how well you can dive." You take position and dive into the water head first and continue down. You swim a little further ahead and you're soon joined by Tonowari.

"You dive very good." Tonowari signs and you thank Eywa that Kiri has been teaching you their Na'vi sign language.

"Thank you." You sign back and he looks at you shocked.

"I'm surprised you know our sign language." Tonowari replies.

"Kiri has been teaching me." You sign to him and he nods once. He starts leading you through the reef showing you the designated hunting areas, and the best places to get clams. At the end of the tour of the reef, he leads you to the shallows to teach you to ride an ilu. He clicks his tongue to summon the creatures and he eventually has two that come up to him.

"In order to successfully hunt you must learn to ride an ilu. When the time comes I will teach you to ride a tsurak... Unless you want to start on a tsurak." Tonkwari teases and you feel the color drain from your face.

"No, no. I'm not Jake. I'm not going to get ahead of myself." You say and chuckle nervously. He smiles warmly at you and then guides one of your hands to the ilu. When your hand makes contact it chitters happily then grab your queue. You calm yourself from your nerves then make tsaheylu and you feel your heartbeat move in sync with her heartbeat. You mount her and Tonowari makes his way around you positioning you correctly.

"When riding an ilu position is important. They move through the water fast, and you need to have a good grip on the handle." Tonowari says and you nod. "You can tell them what to do through your connection." You get a good grip on the handle and will the ilu to move forward slowly. It does so and then starts picking up speed as you get accustomed to riding it. You make your way back to Tonowari and dismount your ilu.

"You learn fast. Now you learn to hunt. Come." Tonowari says then leads you to one of the designated hunting areas.

"Any advice?" You ask him.

"Anticipate their movements and aim for their forward movements. I will demonstrate." Tonowari says then leads you down and takes aim at a fish. He pulls the trigger on his weapon and it delivers a killing blow to the fish. He turns to you with a cocky smirk and you mimic a small clapping motion. He quirks a brow and motions for you to try, and your teasing facade falls a bit. You'd never hunted a single time in your life, so you knew you'd mess it up somehow. You readied your weapon and steeled your nerves then snuck up on some fish. You aimed at a fish and waited for the right moment then pressed the trigger. Your jaw dropped in surprise when it hit its target and you turned back to Tonowari still wearing your surprised expression. He smirks at you again and you gather your hunt while he gathers his and you both surface.

"I thought I was going to miss... I've never hunted before. Or fished." You said and he led you over to your ilu and showed for you to place your fish in the ilu's bag.

"Maybe you were meant for life with the Metkayina." Tonowari suggests and you look back over the horizon.

"That had to be beginners luck. I say I try again and see if I can do it again." You tell him and he looks impressed.

"If that's what you wish then we shall continue hunting." Tonowari says and reloads his weapon and you do the same. Continue hunting the two of you did. You just continued to get better and Tonowari was very impressed by your abilities. When you both decided that was enough for the day you realized you had way too many fish for just you.

"Hey Tonowari... I got carried away and definitely have way more fish than what I need." You said sheepishly and he couldn't help but agree.

"The weavers and elderly will most likely appreciate the fish." Tonowari says. "We should head back." The two of you mount your ilu's and race back to the village. When you get back it's slightly past midday and you follow Tonowari's lead. He teaches you to prepare the fish to be cooked and eaten and then takes you to the weavers.

"Olo'eyktan!" One of the women says happily as the two of you walk into the area.

"My student caught too many fish today and was wondering if anyone wanted to make a trade." Tonowari says and motions for you to show your extra catch. You do so and are met by silence for a moment, but two women jump up at the same time.

"This is perfect timing! My mate has fallen ill and I'm providing for our family. I'm Ra'ina." Ra'ina says as she starts showing you what she has to offer for trade.

"Your mate is ill? Why haven't you come to me? I can help." You say as you look at her in question.

"Oh, he didn't want to bother you with all the responsibilities you have now." She says sheepishly.

"Nonsense. My job is to heal people. That is why I am here. I will retrieve my medicines and go with you to your marui to help your mate." You said and she nodded.

"Thank you (Y/n)." Ra'ina said with a smile.

"I'm Sya." The other woman says and you can tell by looking at her, that she is still very young. "I don't know if you were there last month, but my father passed away. My mother is still mourning so I've been trying to provide for her and my younger siblings." She says and you frown. You must have come in right after his funeral because you don't remember attending his service.

"She was not here at that time Sya. I'm sorry for your loss." Tonowari is quick to jump to your aid. "I'm sure if you ask assistance from my hunters we would be glad to help where we can." He offers the young woman and she smiles in a thankful manner.

"Thank you Olo'eyktan." Sya says and you look at what both women are offering in exchange. Ra'ina was offering a top and Sya was offering a loincloth. You split your hunt between the two and they're both thankful for the fish. You smile at your new clothing as you leave the weavers with Tonowari.

"Alright I need to retrieve my items so I may work on healing Ra'inas mate." You tell Tonowari and he nods.

"Then it is good we finished lessons for today." Tonowari says as the two of you stop infront of your marui.

"This is my stop. Thank you for teaching me Tonowari." You say and he dips his head.

"You're welcome. It is my pleasure to teach the woman I plan to court." Tonowari says and you feel yourself blush. He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. "I will see you tomorrow (Y/n)."

"Have a good evening Tonowari." You tell him and he turns and walks away. You can't help but allow your eyes to roam over his retreating form. Taller than you by atleast a foot, broad shoulders, tattoos, good with children... You felt yourself mentally swoon at the God of a man named Tonowari. You turn and make your way into your marui and gather your supplies and then make your way back to the weavers. The entire evening your mind couldn't expel the thought of what Tonowari's plans are. He wants to court you, and you aren't planning on objecting or rejecting.

The next day you sat in your marui with Neytiri, Tsireya, Kiri, and Ra'ina. You were all kind of just joking, gossiping, and having a pleasant conversation as you all worked on individual projects. Neytiri was working on a gift for Jake, Tsireya was making a bracelet for Lo'ak, Kiri was mending some of her siblings' things, and you and Ra'ina were working on a new mat for her and her husband. A knock sounded on your door and you looked up to find Jake smirking at Tonowari.

"I told you they were all in here." Jake says with his voice full of humor. Tonowari rolled his eyes in amusement.

"Are you looking for something?" You asked them.

"Well..." Jake starts bashfully and you know someone is hurt. You send an apologetic look to the ladies.

"I shall return as soon as I can. I must attend to Jake's mess as per usual." You joke with them and they all chuckle, including Neytiri.

"Neytiri! My beautiful mate... You wound me by not standing up for my honor." Jake says dramatically and you smack the side of his head.

"Take me to the wounded." You demand.

"Do you see this Olo'eyktan? She abuses me." Jake says with a pout and Tonowari looks away from the two of you.

"See what? I didn't see anything." He says and Jake sighs in defeat and then starts to lead the way.

"What happened? Who's hurt?" You ask Jake.

"Don't tell Neytiri." Jake says and you look at him quizzically. "Tonowari and I took the boys out to hunt so they could hopefully bond, but Lo'ak accidentally grazed Neteyam with a bolt from his crossbow." Jake explained and you sighed while massaging your brow.

"You realize she will find out sooner or later. I cannot heal an injury into non-existence before she returns home." You tell him and he nods.

"I know." Jake says.

"Besides they are children they will learn at their own pace. Whether it be, get out of the way of a lined-up shot, or don't shoot your sibling... Either way, it is a lesson learned." You tell him. When you walk into their marui Neteyam looks annoyed as does Ao'nung, and Lo'ak is panicking. Neteyam looks up to see you and holds out his arm and you kneel next to him.

"So what happened exactly?" You asked him.

"Lo'ak was talking to Ao'nung about something and wasn't paying attention to his hands. He pulled the trigger of the crossbow and it grazed my arm." Neteyam explained and you looked to Lo'ak.

"Kid... You gotta learn proper weapon etiquette. Your finger rests idle near the trigger when it's not in use." You tell him and he nods.

"I know. I just got really into the conversation." Lo'ak said and you sighed.

"I'm just glad that it isn't something severe." You said as you started to apply the few stitches needed for Neteyams wound. Once you finished and wrapped it in seaweed bandages you pulled Lo'ak and Neteyam into a hug. "I am just happy that both of you are alright. My beautiful nephews." You say with a joking tone and Lo'ak groans while Neteyam smiles at the praise. You turned to look at Ao'nung who was laughing at the interaction. "Don't make me pull you into this group hug kid."

"My dad wouldn't allow it." Ao'nung says when he realizes you started to turn toward him. You look to Tonowari who smirks at you.

"It would allow you to bond with ma (Y/n), Ao'nung." Tonowari told his oldest who did a double take at what his father just said.

"Did you just call her 'ma (Y/n)'?" Ao'nung asked his father.

"Yes. What else do you call the person you plan to court?" Tonowari says and Ao'nung looks at you shocked.

"You could call her yawne or yawntu." Jake suggested, and your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment and your ears fold back.

"I do not think you will have any problems with courting her father. Look at her reaction." Ao'nung started to join in on poking fun at you. You finished cleaning your hands and hid your face in your hands.

"I am retreating to my marui." You stated and stood up to leave. "Neteyam be careful with that arm. You could pop the stitches if you do any strenuous activity." You tell him and he nods.

"I am very aware Auntie. It's not my first time getting stitched up." Neteyam says and you nod then leave.

"Have fun doing whatever men do in their freetime." You call over your shoulder. You hear them laugh as you leave and a small smile makes its way onto your face.

#tonowari #tonowari x reader

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mlmxreader · 4 months

Text

This Once | Arthur Morgan x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ I saw that you were accepting requests, so I came to ask with the prompts 6 and 28, with Arthur Morgan and M reader ❞

: ̗̀➛ Arthur keeps a secret from you, and it's safe to say that you're not happy about it in the slightest.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, mentions of violence & injury, mentions of gun violence, alcohol consumption

↳ @mockerycrow

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Sat in a small saloon on the outskirts of some random town, you and Arthur were hunched over, talking in low and quiet voices as the candlelight flickered and the patrons slowly filed out as the hours grew longer; between you, two empty pints of beer sat waiting to be refilled, but so engaged in conversation, neither of you had really noticed.

It was getting late, but neither of you were expected back at camp for another few days; you were sent hunting for big game, but a storm had recently rolled through, and with heavily flooding across the expansive prairie, it was unlikely that you would be able to get anything for at least a day or two.

At least the saloon owner was kind enough to let you both stay for free; an elderly man, he sported a thick black beard with tightly curled black hair and almond shaped eyes of a dark mahogany colour.

A thick accent from the Valleys of Cymru, he had explained that he never wanted to own a saloon - he wanted to stay in Cymru, amongst the rolling hills and deep mountains, but he went over to the US to be with his wife when she had moved to study wildlife.

He didn't hesitate to break up fights, though, even less hesitant to tell someone to get out if they overstepped. The type of man who did no harm but would never allow any disrespect.

You and Arthur were his preferred kind of trouble - kept to yourselves, spoke quietly, and didn't cause any unrest. Muttering to yourselves between cigarettes and pints.

But Arthur was keeping something from you, as he knew that you wouldn't react well if he was honest; shortly before the hunting trip, he had gone to see Mary.

He had told her not to write again unless it was an emergency, but when he had moved to turn and walk away, she had kissed him deeply, and he had to push himself away. It was a stupid mistake by all means, and he should not have let it happen, but he knew how you would feel if he told you.

Betrayed. Hurt.

Arthur couldn't help but to think that you would walk away, leaving him stranded in a world that, without you, turned icy and bleak. Leaving him without a home.

Arthur had been with you long enough to know you far too well; a gunslinger that Hosea had brought to camp, you were the best thing that ever happened to Arthur.

A sharp shooter, Arthur was never one to doubt your skills; you could have taken on the likes of Doc Holliday... and Arthur's money would have been on you.

People said that the pen was mightier than the sword, but Arthur was keenly aware of which you would choose, and for that, he would always be glad to be at your side.

You seemed to be immortal, unshakeable, unkillable. No matter the injury, no matter the situation, you would ignore your wounds and prevail every single time. At the edge of complete loss, you never showed any sadness.

Never able to be broken, you always came back for more. You had proven yourself to him plenty of times; under fire, you had shown yourself to be better than most, even when going over swamps and gatherings of basking alligators. No fear. No sadness.

Forged for the fight.

Arthur never felt any reason to be fearful or doubtful when you were by his side; the world would never see another gunslinger like you. Not even Doc Holliday's legacy loomed over you the way it did most sharp shooters.

Clearing his throat, Arthur gently took his hand in yours, unable to lie to you even though he was desperate to hide his secret and he didn't want you to leave him all alone.

"The other day," he started, "when you and Charles were off gettin' supplies, I got a letter... it was from Mary, and before y'call me a damn fool, I already know - but I went. I told her not to write again unless it was an emergency but..."

Your eyes went blank as you glared at him, lighting a cigarette. Completely stone faced. "But?"

"She kissed me when I was boutta leave," he admitted with a sigh. "I pushed her off, I never kissed her back."

You clenched your jaw tightly, nearly grinding your teeth. "Right."

Arthur knew you well enough to see you thinking, the cogs turning in your head as you stared blankly at him; he shook his head, clearing his throat as he shifted in his seat. "How can you be jealous right now? You got me all to your damn self."

"It's not that," you said quietly, shaking your head as you took a long drag from your cigarette. "You said I was the only man you loved like that... but you never trusted me enough to say you went to see her?"

"It's not that I didn't trust you," Arthur insisted qirj a shake of his head. "I know you better than myself. I knew you weren't gonna wanna hear it."

"Arthur," you scoffed. "I'm not being funny here, but I don't give a fuck if you go to see Mary, or that she gives you a goodbye kiss and you pushed her away. I trust you enough to know that you'd never be disloyal... but I can't fuckin' believe you wouldn't tell me."

"Now, just wait-" he was forced to get up, chasing after you as you left the table and headed upstairs to the rented room.

You didn't even look at him, taking off your boots and stripping yourself down to your union suit before getting into bed.

Arthur could tell you were royally fucking pissed, and he knew that you had every right to be, but when you pushed his hand away from your shoulder, he frowned. "'M sorry, alright? I should'a said something."

You scoffed, tugging the blanket up to your chin as you curled into it, rolling your eyes. "You fucked up, Morgan."

"That ain't fair," he murmured, shaking his head. "You're my home, no matter where we are. You know that."

"That doesn't mean you can't fuck up," you grumbled. "You made a right tit of yourself."

Arthur smiled a little, nudging you gently. "Would it help if I told ya I fell off my horse and slammed into a tree?"

He grinned when he heard you laugh softly. "A little, actually."

"I am sorry," he breathed out. "I didn't mean to upset you like that."

"I..." you sighed, turning over to look up at him. "I guess I can forgive you this once."

#mlem writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x yn #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x you #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

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mdhwrites · 4 months

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The issue with Owl House is that it’s cliche in the most boring way. A show can be filled with overused tropes yet still be entertaining yet the Owl House just…isn’t.

This is why I can’t rewatch the show because it’s just not exciting enough to do so.

So I'm mostly going to focus on the rewatch value of the show here rather than the trope elements, I feel like I covered that only a couple blogs ago. For why it's a bad rewatch though: I've said before that TOH is REALLY good at introducing elements and TERRIBLE at follow through. Amity was presented with a lot of great potential in just two episodes because of how clear it was that her current relationship with success was toxic but that you also didn't necessarily want to see her fail in her goals. Then she becomes just a love interest who entirely forgets her goals and has pretty much everything we had introduced in the first two episodes she appeared in swept under the tacky rug named Odalia. Literally two of the first 5 episodes... Wasted. Almost entirely pointless because you could jump in at Lost in Language and her character reads WAY more consistent... But less compelling. She wants to be good at school but it isn't consuming her mind, even at that point despite Luz not really having discussed that part of her at all. She's much closer to a normal, driven girl rather than one demented by the need to succeed. That is frankly just less interesting, at least without ANY explanation as to why besides 'girl crush'. It's akin to how by Escaping Expulsion, she's let her grades slip and only seems to care because her parents are saying she's not allowed to have friends because of it. Or, more importantly, Luz.

That's the thing: Most of the character arcs and elements in TOH don't build on one another. Instead, you start with this really well built house that could use a few additions but it's quite serviceable as is... And then each episode takes a sledgehammer to it. Even the world counts for this. An interesting dystopia fueled by greed where being normal is prioritized over being good? Where everyone is looking for a dime and would threaten to kill you for their own gain because they know they'll get away with it so long as they do it in a normal manner? That's FASCINATING. And that is explicitly the Isles we get for about three episodes.

But then with Covention, it shrinks. Suddenly people are just a little suspicious of Eda but you start realizing that she does run a market stall in the middle of town. That without posters, people practically don't care about her bounty. Cheating is seen as unacceptable rather than what should be the norm with the lack of morals on the Isles. All while it hasn't actually examined the world it implied early on besides honestly a pretty normal con artist and the fact the school was willing to kill an intruder.

Just think about any element really. The EC/Lilith? Presented as really cool and something that could genuinely be a philosophical debate against Eda. Then their second episode is Once Upon a Swap, where they end with their leader as a dog and can't control a witch who has pretty much no control over her magic. So interesting. -_- Hunter is FAMOUS for this. The Golden Guard is an entirely different personality from Hunter himself and implies a LOT of fascinating things about him... And then they're all immediately dropped by Hunting Palisman, even small details like him being a prodigy respected in the EC. Willow is an unexpected one as her first real return is Hooty's Moving Hassle which bungled her power issues so badly, it took Sport in a Storm for the majority of the fandom to realize they were resolved in the sixth episode.

It's also why the show keeps having to add elements rather than having anything to actually expand on. Eda gets pretty much her entire character finished up by the end of S1. She could still teach Luz about potions and genuinely examine the struggle she has with the difference between little magic and no magic but... Instead she gets glyphs and a super form rather than proper character development. Then she gets a love interest that is what she focuses on for a couple episodes of the season. They even have to escalate the curse, despite it being toned down being part of the S1 climax, just because they have so little to actually do with her at this point. They've accelerated her character so quickly past all the things she supposedly cared about that they have to grasp at straws for what can be pulled back. It's why Willow and Amity take effectively an entire season to follow up on the end of Understanding Willow because at that point, they're desperate for Amity to be able to do ANYTHING that isn't just Luz. It's why she suddenly gives a shit about her father out of NOWHERE. It's why Gus has to have the same problem rehashed three times but tackled at with his only two character traits and then sudden anxiety issues that technically aren't out of character but still feel like they came out of nowhere. Because if the show isn't adding something to a character, it only has so much room to go, at least from how the writers seemed to have thought.

It's actually part of why Luz is so incredibly stagnant in S1. Her character is actually really basic and the show itself has NO INTEREST in multiple elements of it. She can be described in the first episode as a bullied girl who is an outcast from normal people with a desire to live out a fantasy instead and has a good heart. Now that first half, the bullied girl who is an outcast, is jettisoned for the sake of making Luz's transition into the Isles easier/selling the idea of the Isles as a place she/the viewer want to be in easier. She never has social anxiety or the like, or even struggles to make friends and connections, because that would get in the way of seemingly what the writers actually care about like their romance plots and her wish fulfilment. So if you don't have those elements then all you have is her desire to live out a fantasy and that she has a good heart.

And for like half the show, that pretty much doesn't change at all. It's why a lot of the episodes with her effectively come down to her making a mistake because she wants to live out an Azura book, implicitly (Teenage Abomination) or explicitly (Covention), but then her good heart makes her set things right. And that is fine for your MC. It actually worked to keep her unobtrusive from the other characters as they worked through their arcs and lessons. MCs like this work well in general honestly. I've referenced Danny Phantom and Randy Cunningham as characters who fit this archtype, who also are pretty basic as both are teenage boys who would like to be popular but also have good hearts that will cause them to do the right thing even if it humiliates them, and those shows are great! There are issues with the style, and Luz has PLENTY OF THEM, but they work for a base.

But part of her stagnancy and issues with the trope is that she never seems to learn anything. That's because of TOH's problem of only tearing a character apart... Until it replaces. Lilith isn't Lilith anymore. She's now the cool aunt. Eda was practically never criminal or anarchist. She's just Momma Eda. The Golden Guard never existed, there's only the sad but mad boy. Etc. Etc.

The old character and their history do not exist and the new one... Is usually summed up really easily. Usually just with the statement of "A generally nice person." But having excised all of that old potential also means they can't do a lot with these characters without seeming to go back on their character development. This is why we get Hunter as a new Amity so someone can do her angst a second time since they decided to race past it all. It's why we get romance added more heavily because there are still tropes they can do with that genre and even love interests they can add. Why nothing gets explored because the show was so impatient to get to the big moments it wanted, even before the shortening since that mostly didn't affect the first half of the series so stuff like Amity's rushed development was not something forced on them, that it lost out on the chance to do the actually interesting ideas they pitched in the first place. Remember how Luz and Eda were pitched at the beginning as student/mentor? Theoretically, as the two main characters? And how after Adventure in the Elements, they have two plots together where they speak for more than like a minute with each other. Stranger Tides and Titan Where Art Thou, the latter of which actually rehashes a concept from literally a season ago (Grom) because they just forgot about Luz wanting Eda's approval until then.

All of this, all of this rambling, makes it so that while I am a firm proponent for the journey meaning more than the destination... It's hard to want to go back on that journey. To constantly be like "This is the best this character will ever be," through the first half of the show, if that, and then have only a couple character climaxes to look forward to. Worse yet is that even these introductory episodes HINGE on payoffs down the line, like Understanding Willow. That potential was part of what made them good when honestly a lot of them are kind of boring without the novelty of the potential story they're setting up. Knowing there's no payoff just makes the setup INFURIATING.

It also makes it really easy to understand why so many praised it so much harder early on. It comes out of the gate swinging but its punches have no follow through so when S1 was done and everything was introduced, the potential for the show was laid bare, we got HUNDREDS of animatics. We got thousands of comics. The fandom has NEVER thrived harder.

But by even the hiatus in S2... There's a reason why a LOT of people jumped onto Clarvee like ravenous hounds. A reason why a lot of people jumped onto Huntlow when it started being teased. Kept jumping to new elements being added because the old ones were left to rot, if they weren't actively sabotaged.

And the finale for a lot of people so actively contradicted one of those early statements, one of those early novelties people pointed to for why an okay episode was better than it was, that it really feels like it fractured the fandom. A lot of people saw Luz become a chosen one, literally empowered by God with no consequences and little work, and one of those things that people praised from episode 2... Shattered.

And suddenly they realized that strong house they thought they'd lived in the entire series had so many holes in it from the sledgehammers that it all simply fell as if it were always a house of cards.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house

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honkytonk-hangman · 2 years

Text

SNEAK PEEK – TAKE CARE OF BUSINESS

40s!Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Summary: The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you'd been in a floundering engagement. Back then you'd seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

Notes: hello comrades, its me, el presidente of the Jake Seresin Professional Baby Girl Club :) vibes wise, this is partially based on the potato movie and a little bit of what we've seen in trailers for Devotion. Mostly because sweetcheeks looks so good in both. I hope you enjoy this little sneak peek, please send an ask or comment if you would like to be tagged when it comes out!!! <3

Reader has a nickname– Duckie, but its just so that it's easier to write dialogue lol pls dont b mad uwu thank u to @ussgallifrey @natrace @bvckysmoon for being very devious and sending me lots of pictures of mr handsome when i should be finishing my other wips <3 love u all never change <3

Words: 1.8k

UPDATE: FULL FIC AVAILABLE HERE!

1946

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you’re guided through the busy dance hall, barely missing a waiter with a large tray of drinks as you go. You try to call back an apology, but the hand wrapped around your wrist is already dragging you away, weaving in and out of the crowds of dancers and party-goers.

You’d almost forgotten what the atmosphere in a place like this could be like, exuberant and daring, and now that the war was officially over, lacking in any sort of melancholy.

Bea, your well meaning, but a little over-excited friend, finally seems to be slowing down, though she has one last surprise in stall for you, using your momentum to swing you around to her side with a strength such a small woman certainly shouldn’t possess.

“There she is!” a male voice, deep and pleasant, greets from somewhere in front of you, and you give your head a quick shake, attempting to get your bearings now.

“Sorry we’re late, sugar! Had a lipstick emergency!” Bea says only half truthfully, stepping away from your side momentarily to allow a handsome moustachioed man to lean down and kiss her cheek.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet display. Bea had been telling you all about Bradley Bradshaw for weeks now, and if even half of what she’d told you was true, you already liked him immensely for treating your friend so well.

“And this must be the famous Duckie I’ve heard all about,” honey coloured eyes swivel away from Bea and land on you, making you remember yourself.

“It’s so good to meet you at last, Lieutenant Bradshaw!” you shake his offered hand warmly.

“Please just call me Bradley– or Rooster!” he gently corrects you, before he hums, and shoots Bea a suspicious look.

“Do you think she’s adding us birds to some sort of collection?” he asks conspiratorially, the question making you laugh genuinely at the absurdity.

Bea huffs, shakes her head, and smacks his arm, trying her best to fight off the grin on her lips.

“All I’ll say Rooster, is that you’d best treat her right, or she will hunt you for sport,” you lean in and reply, receiving your own smack for your trouble. Rooster’s face turns bright and he laughs, pulling Bea near with his arm around her.

“I can believe that, yes ma’am,” they look at each other with barely concealed adoration, and it makes your heart clench a little in your chest. You’re quickly distracted though, with the sudden and rowdy approach of six other people, all dressed to the nines like everyone else around you. Rooster seems unfazed by their appearance, though he tears his eyes away from Bea to glance around at the now much larger group you were in.

“Fellas, you all know Bea already, and this is Bea’s friend, Duckie,” he easily introduces you to the six newcomers, all men except for a tall, beautiful brunette woman who looked like she could eat every single one of them for breakfast. A flurry of handshakes and names are exchanged, and you’re surprised by just how quickly you feel totally absorbed by the group of Naval Aviators, like you’d known them all for years and were just catching up again.

“I’m spotting a free table, north west!” the man who held the youngest looking features of the group, Fanboy you believe he’d introduced himself as, pipes up, pointing over everyone's heads to the large round table that was currently being cleaned up. Before you can even process it, the entire group is migrating casually toward the table, Rooster catching the arm of the waiter before he leaves, putting a round in, you assume.

You find yourself next to Bob, who sends you an adorably awkward little grin as he pulls out your chair for you, and you thank him sincerely. Despite the gentlemanly gesture, the moment you’re comfortable, he’s taking his own seat, and once more totally absorbed by the woman you’d learn was named Phoenix, or Nat. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, too distracted by all the new faces, and their excitable personalities, but Bob was clearly, utterly enamoured by Phoenix, and it looked like the feeling was returned, if perhaps a little less socially awkward.

“Hey, Javy, where’s Hangman?” Bea is sat a few places down from you, her hand wrapped through Rooster’s arm. A man on the opposite side of the table waves his hand over his shoulder.

“He’s coming, probably caught his reflection in a glass,” Javy snorts.

“I wanted to introduce him to Ducky!” Bea pouts, and her words make you frown.

“Pardon?” you say pointedly, leaning around Bob and Phoenix to look at Bea with a frown. Rooster seems to be matching your expression, and he cocks his head at his partner.

“Ducky is far too nice for him,” Rooster says, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really mean it.

“Oh come off it, Ducks, you could do with meeting someone new!” Bea rolls her eyes, but her voice is imploring.

Your frown deepens just a little bit, but you aren’t too angry. It wasn’t as if she’d tricked you into a double date or anything. There were plenty of other seemingly solo people around that you’re sure any awkwardness could easily be avoided if you managed to stick by Bob and Phoenix.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you there, Honey Bea,” A smooth male voice purrs from behind you, and you almost jump at the hand that comes to rest on the back of your chair. You turn quickly in no small amount of surprise at the person apparently so close behind you, but any further thought is cut off when your eyes land on the handsome face smirking coquettishly down at you.

You’re so surprised, you gasp daintily, moving to stand so that you can greet the familiar man properly.

“Lieutenant Seresin!” you welcome him excitedly, gratefully accepting the hand he offers to help you to your feet.

“Jake,” he corrects, and you feel foolish for laughing.

“Jake!” you repeat warmly.

“You two already know each other?” Bea sounds put out, but intrigued, and you tear your gaze away from Jake for a few moments to focus on her.

“Oh Ducky and I are good ol’ friends,” Jake tells her, and you cock your head at him with a small shake, but look back at your friend.

“We met in Paris, during the war,” you explain to her, opening your mouth to continue on that he had been a friend of your fiance’s, but you stop yourself.

“My favourite nurse,” Jake adds, and brings your hand that you realise he’s still holding to his lips. Your chest flutters, but you’re distracted from the butterflies by the odd look on his face, paired with the brief flicker of his eyes down to your hand.

“Where is the old man, then?” Jake tilts his head at you, and then quickly around at the crowded club, and you suck in a breath, realising now what he’d been confused by.

You take your left hand back from him with only a small amount of effort, and smooth down your frock primly. Suddenly his closeness was nerve wracking.

“Probably with his new wife, I haven’t exactly been keeping up,” you scold yourself for the sass and bitterness. Jake’s head whips back to face you, and for several moments he stares down at you, before a tiny crease pulls between his brows, and his lips purse.

“I never liked him, anyway,” Jake says the words, and you know it’s supposed to be a joke, but his taut expression and humourless voice say otherwise. You look down at your skirt and shrug.

“Well, it’s probably for the best,” you shake off any residual foul mood, and straighten, letting your lips curl back into a smile.

“It’s so good to see you again,” you say happily, and Jake’s face softens. He takes back your hand, and kisses it once more.

“I imagine,” he bounces an eyebrow at you, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say ‘you too’!” you grumble with no conviction, as Jake rounds your seat, only releasing your hand when he has to, to help you back into your chair, before he takes the empty space beside you. He simply shrugs, before his eyes flick past you to Rooster and Bea.

“Sorry to ruin your setup,” he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, though you doubt Bea was feeling too upset right now, with the way she was looking between you and Jake with glee in her eyes.

“Hey, wasn’t my plan. I think she’s too good for you,” Rooster chortles, catching the fist Bea attempts to sock him with, and kisses it instead.

Jake cuts his gaze down at you, and leans in so only you’ll hear him.

“How long have you been in San Diego?” he asks, and you’re forced to lean away so you can look up at him without your faces being much too near.

“Six months now. I met Bea on the boat coming home from London, she convinced me not to go back to New York after… everything.” you tell him equally as quietly, but realising what a stroke of luck it was that you had just so happened to run into one another here, when you so easily could have never seen him again.

“I’m glad.” he says, pinning you in place with an almost curious stare, but you figure he was just taking in your face for the first time in two years. Part of you wishes you hadn’t moved back, but if you’d remained in place and simply turned your head, you’re almost certain your lips might’ve been close enough to touch when you spoke.

The thought makes your face boil, and you avert your gaze, and reach for the glass of water that had been poured for you earlier.

“Oh, Duckie,” Jake hums in an almost sing-song, leaning away from you at last, and once again speaking at a normal volume. You turn to look at him with a questioning frown, but he only continues to watch you in amusement, cheshire grin pulling at his lips.

“My little sitting Duckie,” he continues, smile only continuing to grow. You shake your head at him good-naturedly, but can’t help but feel there's some truth in his teasing.

You know you should probably feel more trepidation, but the only thing that you feel pumping through your veins is the exhilarating thrill at the thought of Jake calling you ‘his’ anything.

The way he was looking at you felt positively predatory, and under his blistering stare, you really were a sitting duck.

#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #top gun: maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin 40s au #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin

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spilledmilkfkdies · 6 months

Note

What do you think the wizards heights are? (Including Valtor if you cover him) 🙏

Okokok so the problem is that I am a supporter of making the wizards of the Black Circle tall, and I mean Tall, Dark Souls bosses type of tall- But y'know what's stopping me? The thought I could never fit them into a car. Mhm.

I mean, not just that, kinda, more like 'how would they function in a normal setting and could they live under humans like that', because apparently that matters to me. Even if the thought of them having gone "so far off the deep end" that they just don't fit in with humans anymore after everything is a little delicious as well. Basically, I would make them unreasonably tall if I cared like 20% less about normalcy. That being said? Here are some rough height estimates I'm thinking off, in no particular order-

Starting out with Gantlos because I simply will not shut up about how I think he should be a big lad, the biggest, even. The actual reason for that though is like, y'know how in Resident Evil Village you have Lady Dimitrescu ends sentence there and the way she has to bend down to go through some doors? That has altered my brain in a normal way. I am normal. Now I'm not saying Gantlos is that tall, as previously mentioned, sort of. But having to duck just a little bit when going through the average door? I'm not above doing that. Sorry. I think that would put him lightly above 7ft (well over 2m). Was he always that tall? Probably not. Is it doable? Eh, it's what I'm leaning towards right now, that's usually how it goes.

Paragraph over! Moving on to Ogron!! I was considering making him the shortest, you can disagree and be happy I changed my mind, you can be disappointed too- That man wears heels either way, so it's whatever no it's not I still think about him being the shortest sometimes. What position is he in right now? Um middle. Yeah. Like obviously, I guess, but I'll explain why it's a little confusing in a bit, let's say he's somewhere 6'4ft (1.93m) and 6'7ft (about 2m) maybe?? Pulling these numbers out of my ass don't even worry about it-

Now here's where I start making things really complicated for myself for no reason fr! Because!! Duman's height is all over the place. I don't just mean this in a way where sometimes he's literally a rat or bear with those matching heights- The height of his own form also just. Depends on his mood?? There's days where he's the shortest and days where he isn't. Rarely below 6ft (1.83m), never taller than Gantlos (Dumanic bat form not included, that shit is Large, but currently also unspecified). It just be like that sometimes. Any specific reason why I forced that onto him? Nuh uh definitely not.

Basically, Anagan is left as the shortest whenever Duman isn't. That's what we're going with rn. That's where we're at. He's not short though, just compared to the others ig? Put him next to the average man and he still has a couple of inches probably maybe- Are you starting to notice that I know very little about height because I feel like that seed had been planted in the first few sentences already.

Am I legally allowed to speak on Valtor's height? Will I be hunted for sport if I put a take out there that's not appreciated? Taking the absolute coward way out and saying I think he'd be shorter than Ogron, but above Anagan? His demon form is bigger than Duman's though, so there's that. Cough.

Will I be sticking to the order of this? Who knows! The actual numbers I did specify? Highly doubt it! But for now let's put it like, tallest to shortest:

Valtor demon form >> Duman demon form >> Gantlos >> Could be Duman >> Ogron >> Could also be Duman >> Valtor >> Duman again >> Anagan >> Duman sometimes

Okay that's all bye

#been a while since i just threw a bunch of rambly thoughts on here #i'm behind on asks but do NOT let that stop you from sending them #i'll get to it all eventually besties #sorry for the wait #this nearly killed me btw #in case you were wondering #humongous answer with vague actual heights #take it or leave it #winx club #winx headcanons #winx villains #winx valtor #wizards of the black circle #winx ogron #winx gantlos #winx anagan #winx duman #answered ask

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jtl-fics · 8 months

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How well would your OCs do against a cockroach tag game

🚧Fear Factor Edition⚠️

Tagged by @angry-kid-with-no-money

Rules: rate your OCs by how well they'd do against a cockroach. Bonus: write an entire scene out of it if you want!

Janie Smalls: Would hunt the cockroach for sport. She just wants it dead and has no fear.

(REDACTED) Smith:

Nicky's phone rings while he's out enjoying an 'enforced' family dinner with Aaron and Andrew. He looks down at it, "Oh, hold on I need to take this." he says reaching for his phone only for both Andrew and Aaron to slap his hand away from the center where they had each placed their phones at the beginning of the dinner. "Why??" he asks.

"If we're not allowed to talk to Katelyn," Aaron gestures to himself, "or Josten," Aaron gestures to Andrew, "then you don't get to talk to Erik." he says.

"It's not Erik, it's Smithy! He wouldn't call unless it was a problem." Nicky whines.

The twins consider this before giving a 'go ahead' gesture to Nicky. Nicky quickly grabbed the phone and hit accept before putting it up to his ear, "Hey Smithy, what's-"

The twins watch on as confusion filters across Nicky's face.

"What is it?" Andrew asks but Nicky shushes him.

"Smithy, you're not making sense. What do you mean you're going to quit the team?" he asks which has both twins straighten up. "Smithy, why in the world are you moving to Antartica? Smithy, you're talking really-" there's a pause and both of the twins can hear what sounds like a scream on the other end as Nicky pulls the phone away from his ear.

Nicky blinks in shock but after a moment brings the phone back, "...so Matt killed it?" Nicky asks. "No, I don't think they should rename Antartica Antblattodea what does that even mean?" Nicky asks with a laugh.

There's a pause as Smith apparently explains the joke.

"I'll leave it up to you to make that argument. Sure it'll go over well. So, you're not quitting the team?" he asks and there's another pause, "Ok good. See you when I get back." another pause, "Yeah I'll pick up Roach spray." he agrees.

Anyone who wants to join in feel free! I don't know enough about other people's OCs to tag people properly but I'd love to read about them.

#Fluent Freshman AU #Janie Smalls AU #OC V. Cockroach prompt #AFTG AU

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3sinnrsn1angel · 2 months

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Fell From Heaven

-----(word count: 4k)-----

OOC: prequel oneshot to the au: How Lincoln became a fallen angel (focused on swiftli)

(you won't need to read this oneshot to understand more about the au)

ao3

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“Maybe you should like…get him a pie or something.” Taylor suggests, watching his feet as they follow Scary, a hand on the hilt of his sword, where it hangs at their hip.

“A pie? A fucking pie?” Scary stops walking and turns back to look at Taylor. Their demonic tail swishes behind her, lowly in annoyance. They have their black and purple hair tied up in the high ponytail she wears whenever they go hunting, their bangs hang loose around her red horns and theres a few strands framing either side of their face. Her expression is angry, and their eyeliner runs down her face like normal, it pops out against their pale skin. She’s holding her gun, their knives strapped to their belt.

“I don’t know!” Taylor throws his hands up. “I usually just get my Mom a cake whenever I get mad at her and feel guilty.” They shrug. Scary laughs, but it's the sarcastic humorless one she does whenever they’re about to say something edgy.

“I do not feel guilty!” They roll their eyes. “TJ completely deserved it.”

“I mean, I think he’s pretty cool.” Taylor shrugs. “His magic stuff is pretty cool. My Dad likes him.” Taylor says, referring to the magic user shop that TJ, Scary’s stepdad, owns. Scary lives with the guy alone, they’re both sinners, died together when they were on Earth back in 1956. Taylor is pretty sure it's around the 2040’s now back on earth, so it's been a while. Scary doesn't talk about her human life that much, but considering she and TJ live in the 7th circle of Hell, Violence, Taylor can gather an idea.

Scary and TJ are among the very few sinners that Taylor actually interacts with on a daily basis, Taylor had met Scary when he had hit 12 centuries of age and was allowed to start participating in the Angel Hunting competitions. Scary is an Angel Hunter for money reasons, most sinners who angel hunt do it to earn money, but Taylor’s family does it for the competition. Taylor is a prince of the 7th circle, a Hell-Demon. The only thing sinners and hell demons have in common is the red horns and tails, Taylor also has red skin and yellow eyes, as well a pair of bat-like wings. There are a few more differences, but appearance wise those are the most obvious.

The royals hunt Angels for sport, taking on the challenge. Angels are also a culinary delicacy in some parts of Hell, though Taylor has never tasted one. Taylor had really only participated in the royal competitions between each circle, but he’d gotten bored with that, and once they became old enough, around 1,600 years of age, he had to start sitting through lessons about being an heir. Which was honestly ridiculous considering Taylor wasn't even the first prince in line, considering that his grandfather, Zhao Di Foster (Or Jodie) is still ruling. His Dad, Saint Nicholas Foster-Close (Or Nicky) has been in line for the throne for over thirty centuries.

Tae Lure Swift (Or Taylor) was still regarded as a prince though, which meant at 1,600 they had to start sitting in on lessons and lectures of how to become King. The only good thing about the meetings was getting to hang out with his Dad and other grandfather, Glenn Close. Glenn wasn't technically a royal, nor was he even a hell-demon, but he’s still Taylor’s grandpa, it was because of some kind of weird curse that Taylor’s Dad had two Dads, something to do with a Battleaxe Of Hatred and divine judgment. Taylor’s pretty sure his Dad had said it was Heaven’s fault, Taylor doesn't tend to ask about it much just because of how much it seems to bother Nicky to talk about.

After a while of boring Royal Angel Hunting events, and even more boring lessons about monarchies and adequacy, Taylor had started to venture off into the city whenever they have the time. He had come across Angel Bounties when they were wandering around the downtown area, and had gotten curious. While looking into it, he met Scary. Angel Bounties for sinners were way more interesting, considering it was an actual active hunt, not just angels being captured by demon subjects and thrown into a gladiator arena. There was also the possibility of Angels having their own bounties for demons, whether it be hell-demons or sinners. (Though hell-demons are typically worth more.) The risk is thrilling.

“Your Dad only likes TJ because he keeps bribing the prince with baked goods so he doesn't think we kidnap you.” Scary rolls her eyes and Taylor pouts.

They're walking outside of the city, the red desert plains between the circles of Hell and the staircase to the gates of Heaven. Angels typically fly overhead through the gates to get to the other circles for bounties as well as deliveries from the monarchs of Heaven to the monarchs of Hell. The area they're in and the time of day, makes for prime angel hunting time.

“Yeah well, I like to think that our dads get along.” Taylor folds his arms over his chest. Scary growls, her tail whipping angrily.

“Not my Dad.” She says coldly before turning and going back to walking down the path. Taylor follows, feeling a little smug. They walk in silence for the most part, and Taylor knows that he's supposed to be paying attention when they're out of the city, to make sure he doesn't get a spear through the heart or something, but he's bored and he hasn't heard the flap of feathered wings and angelic harps that would indicate an angel approaching, so he pulls out his phone. He’s answering a text from his Mom when they can hear something akin to a missile being launched coming from above, he looks up to see something that looks almost like a comet shoot through the sky. It hits the ground about 50 feet away from them with a loud crash that shakes the ground beneath them.

Taylor almost drops his phone but grabs it before it hits the sand. It's almost as if there's an earthquake going on, for at least four seconds before the ground settles. There’s a large crater in the ground and a steady smoke of red sand and white flames come from it.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Scary yells, grabbing Taylor’s arm. Taylor adjusts his glasses a little to look over, slack jawed. Scary pulls out their angelic revolver, it glowing with the same bright white look that the flames around the crater are. Now that he notices it, the comet had come from the direction where the stairs to Heaven are. Taylor blinks a little before the realization hits them.

“WHAT THE SHIT!!” He yells, their shoulders raising up, Scary looks at them with a confused look. “Scare! It’s a fucking fallen angel!” He hisses at her. Their eyes widen when the realization hits her at well. Taylor pulls out his sword and starts walking towards the crater, Scary’s hand still on their arm.

“Tae! Taylor! Don’t be an idiot! I swear to fucking satan- if you get us killed by Heaven Angels I’m killing you myself” Scary complains, however she’s following him. Taylor ignores their protests, his curiosity getting the best of them. They get to the edge of the sandy crater, it’s deep, Taylor can’t really guess how deep but it’s really fucking deep. There’s enough red sand blown away that you can see the black coal-like rocks that make up the underground of Hell. There’s a figure in the middle of it, Taylor can see a feathered wing twitch. Taylor will admit he’s never seen a fallen angel before, nor as he ever met one. Heaven doesn’t typically throw out their angels unless they’ve done something bad. By the fact the fallen angel as wings, Taylor can assume that they’re heaven-born. Angels who were once humans, only had halos. But the wings aren’t the usual pristine white that sell like crazy in auctions down in the 9th Circle, they look as if they’ve been dipped in ash, black and almost raven-like.

Taylor can’t help but stare as the figure rises, stumbling a lot. Taylor can hear them let out a hiss of pain. They lift their head, and the distance and angle makes it impossible for Taylor to see their face, but their halo he can spot. Usually an angel has a gold halo, that sparkles in light, those always sell high in markets as well. Their halo is unlike any that Taylor has ever seen before, it’s white, devoid of any color, and it’s broken, cracked down the middle. It hangs with a weird energy that hurts Taylor’s eyes to look at. Their clothes, traditional Heaven Angel garments, that look similar to Taylor’s own royal clothing, though not black and grey, grey and white, are ripped to shreds. The clothing hangs around their tall frame, tattered with burns and cuts. They have short black dreadlocks, but there are a few of them that have turned completely white, they almost look to be glowing like their broken halo. They’re still not facing Taylor and Scary, so Taylor cups his hands around his mouth.

“HEY!” They yell down at the fallen angel. “HEY OVER HERE!!” They turn their head, and Taylor has to stop themself from gasping. Their eyes are completely white. Heaven Angels typically have white lashes that frame their eyes, but their actual eyes are normal colors, though they’re typically more saturated than sinners and angels. But, the person, this fallen angel in the crater, their eyes glow the same white that their halo is, and it looks as if the white is dripping down their cheeks. Taylor looks to Scary, who still has their hand around his arm, then looks back to the fallen angel. “I’m going down.” Taylor says, walking over the edge of the crater to use the sand to slip down the hole. Scary lets go of him.

“Are you fucking crazy or something?” Scary whisper-yells at them as he gets more down the crater. Taylor ignores her, focusing on getting down to meet the fallen angel. They look young, probably closer to Taylor’s age than Scary’s, but hell and heaven borns age slower than human borns. Scary is only 72 in human years, technically anyway considering she died at 16. Taylor is around 16 years old in demon years. Taylor gets to the bottom and notices Scary as they plop down next to him on the rocks that the fallen angel is still sitting on top of.

“Hey,” Taylor waves at them and they blink, a look of confusion and fear on their face. “I’m Tae Lure Swift, prince of the 7th Ring, but you can call me Taylor. He/They for me, This is Scary Marlowe, they’re a sinner, They/She for her.” Taylor explains simply. “What’s your name?” They raise a shaky hand to wipe at their eyes, Taylor can see white tears pouring from their eyes. Scary smacks Taylor in the back of his head. “Uh..sorry, are you okay?”

“Uh…” The fallen angel starts to say. “I’m okay…I’m not hurt.” Their voice is way deeper than Taylor would have expected but he goes with it. “I’m Lincoln.” They introduce themself.

“Nice to meet you!” Taylor grins, showing off fangs and braces. Taylor puts out his hand, the gloves he wears that are attached to the sleeves of their undershirt (a part of his royal clothing) go over only his ring finger, Lincoln seems to hesitate before accepting the hand, shaking it lightly. “Can you stand?” Taylor asks. Scary is unusually quiet, and when Taylor glances over they’re glaring uncomfortably, looking between Lincoln and Taylor, showing non-verbal disapproval. Taylor ignores it.

“Uhm..” Lincoln attempts to stand, putting their black raven wings out to steady themself. They’re able to stand, but wobble a little, so Taylor puts out his hands to catch them, their skin is almost freezing to the touch. “Thank you…” They mumble, sniffling a little. “I’m in uh…Hell then.” Taylor nods. “Cool…which circle is this?” Lincoln sounds a little awkward, maybe still fearful, but thankfully they seem to trust Taylor. Which is way more than any angelic being has ever shown him. That’s probably why it’s so easy to kill them and not morally feel unbalanced. But also, Taylor is literally a hell-demon, so murder even between hell-demons and sinners isn’t exactly uncommon.

“7th Circle, Violence.” Taylor answers. “But don’t worry! I’m a prince so if you stick with me no one can hurt you without fear of imprisonment and execution, because I can flex my power when I wanna!” Taylor laughs a bit at their own words, and Lincoln laughs gently as well, giving Taylor a strained but gentle smile.

“Thank you.” Lincoln mumbles. “I guess it uh, makes sense I’m here.” Lincoln says, looking around the crater they had made when they fell.

“You’re a fallen angel, right?” Scary says in an accusatory tone. Lincoln looks to them with wide eyes.

“Uhm…yes, I am.” Lincoln answers, looking at their feet. The whites of their eyes are a little greyer than their actual irises, so Taylor can see where they’re looking when up closer.

“How does that work?” Taylor asks, tilting his head to the side while still holding onto Lincoln’s arms.

“Oh uhm…I killed an angel and I was put on trial in front of the Heaven council, and they exiled me. So. I guess I’m a sinner now? Technically?” Lincoln’s shoulders go up near their ears.

“You killed an angel?” Scary repeats, looking shocked. “One of your own kind?” Lincoln frowns deeply and Taylor smacks Scary with his tail. She yelps a little and gives them a harsh glare. Taylor returns it, pouting a little.

“It’s fine, we kill angels all the time.” Taylor reassures. “That’s why we were out of the city anyway.” Lincoln definitely does not look reassured or comforted so Taylor moves on quickly. “Anyways…so like, you can’t go back to Heaven?” Lincoln looks even more terrified as if what Taylor said hadn’t dawned on them yet.

“Oh lord…” Lincoln puts their hands on either side of their head, freaking out a little. “I can’t go back, oh dear god, I can’t go back…I’m never gonna see Marco again!” Taylor and Scary share a confused and worried look.

“Who’s Marco?” Scary asks. Lincoln’s bottom lip wobbles as more tears spill from his eyes, Taylor moves over to lightly pat them on the back, attempting to comfort them.

“My Dad!!” They sob out, putting their head in their hands. Scary shares another look with Taylor. “And- and my other Dad..he-” Lincoln sniffles loudly, suddenly looking more pissed off than sad. “He was in the council that fucking exiled me!!” Lincoln lets out a long distressed groan and crouches down on the ground. Taylor hums, frowning a little.

“Well that’s pretty jacked up of him!” Taylor expresses, placing his hands on their hips. Scary nods in agreement as Lincoln looks back up at them.

“What do I do now…?” Lincoln asks, tugging at their hair a little. Scary bites her lip as Taylor gives her a firm look. They shake her head back and forth aggressively and Taylor nods with that same aggression. They play this game for a little longer before Scary lets out a loud groan.

“Augh! Fine, I live with my fucking stepdad and we have extra room…so I’ll like, fucking text him and ask if you can stay or whatever…” Scary rolls their eyes dramatically. Taylor smirks in his victory. She takes out her phone, starting to type on it, their long nails clacking against the screen loudly. “What’re your pronouns?” Scary asks, nudging Lincoln. Lincoln blinks a bit before registering the question.

“He and She are fine.” He says, shrugging. Scary nods, looking back at her phone. Taylor crouches down next to Lincoln, pats her on the back a little.

“Link..can I call you Link?” Taylor asks, feeling smug. Lincoln furrows his brow and then nods. She sniffles again, wiping her nose on the back of his hand. “This place will be incredibly weird! More so weird than what you are used to! However, I, your noble prince and grand leader! Will guide you, protect you even.” Taylor grins and Link just looks at them with a confused look.

“Okay, TJ says it’s fine. However he has words to exchange with us about the dangers of angels or whatever the fuck, so like…be ready.” Scary says, shrugging and putting their phone into the back pocket of her ripped up jeans.

“Okay.” Lincoln says. “Thank you.” She moves to stand, brushing off his knees, which are exposes through the huge gashes in the grey leggings angels usually wear.

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They get back to TJ and Scary’s apartment later, not coming back with any angel bounty, which is what they’d gone out to get, but returning with a whole ass fallen angel roommate. TJ isn’t home yet from work but he said they could go in and make sure Link is all settled.

“I’ll get you some old clothes from my room, probably won’t fit but like…it’s temporary until we can actually get you something better to wear.” Scary says to Lincoln who’s standing awkwardly in the living room of the apartment. Scary starts walking off towards her bedroom. “Tae can you show Lincoln her room?” Taylor grins and nods, bouncing on his feet a little.

“This way!” Taylor gestures, walking down the hall and to the guest bedroom, which is now going to be Lincoln’s. Taylor has stayed in the room a couple of times over the few decades that they’ve known Scary and TJ, but Taylor has always preferred to fall asleep with Scary on the couch while watching a movie or anime, or sleeping in her bed. What can they say? Taylor is a demon who appreciates physical touch. It took Taylor a long time to grow out of wanting to sleep in his Mom’s bed at night, as well as falling asleep while sitting with his Dad. Taylor walks into the room and sets their backpack down on the ground for now, he looks back to see Link standing nervously in the doorway, running her hands over his arms repeatedly. “You okay?” He looks up to meet Taylor’s eyes from where he stands near the bed. “You can like…come in, dude.”

“Oh uhm…yeah, sorry.” Link walks in and hesitates before she sits down on the bed. “Just uhm…a lot on my mind I guess.” Taylor nods, sitting down next to him.

“That’s fair, sounds like you’ve been going through a whole ton of jacked up shit.” Taylor says, moving his wings a bit so they don’t bump into Link.

“Yeah…kinda.” Lincoln itches her brow. “I’m just…angry, and sad. So much so that it feels suffocating.” Lincoln frowns. “My dads told me that honesty was a good thing, and that if I’m ever in a situation that I protect myself.” She runs a thumb against the palm of his hand. “But when I did…I- they kicked me out. The angel I killed wasn’t a good man, he should’ve been the one to get thrown out of the gates not me! It’s unfair, I’m…I’m not a sinner.” Link’s voice cracks a little, he’s frowning deeply and doesn’t meet Taylor’s eyes when he scoots towards her, pulling him into an awkward side hug, given how tall she is in comparison.

“I don’t think you’re all evil or anything…” Taylor says. “I mean from like, my experience. The angel hunting we do, as well as the competitions the royals do, is like…not as violent or cruel as what Heaven does. Maybe it’s because we’re all kinda upfront about what we do and stuff, and sinners mostly do it because they need money to survive, that’s why Scary does it anyway. But like..Heaven acts all sweet and holy and stuff but they’re even worse of a monarchy than we are. Hell civil wars are way less common than in Heaven, and even when they do happen here they go on for like ever…Heaven always resolves them like real quick by massacring the angels who fuck shit up.” Taylor rambles. “Sorry..what I’m trying to say is that you’re a cool guy, and a bunch of shit happened to you and now you’re here with us, and that’s pretty nice. But also, Heaven was totally in the wrong there.” Link looks down at him, a gentle furrow to his brow.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…I don’t know, it’s hard to think about right now. I’m tired.” Lincoln says, sighing deeply. Taylor hums.

“That makes sense, I wouldn’t imagine it uh…not being tiring.” Taylor shrugs. “But you know, on the bright side, I think you’re really nice and we can get to hang out now!” Taylor grins and Lincoln laughs a little, a gentle smile going across his lips.

“Yeah, I think you’re pretty cool too.” Link tucks a lock behind her ear, looking down. “For being a hell-demon anyway.” Taylor snickers.

“Other royals can be pretty shitty guys but I pride myself on being cool as hell in a mysterious vigilante type way!” Taylor smirks, brushing red bangs out of his face. Lincoln laughs softly.

“Very mysterious, yeah.” Lincoln brings her legs up, hugging them to his chest, her eyes still on Taylor. Scary walks back in eventually and hands Lincoln some of their old clothes, hoping that will work until they’re able to go shopping for her. Taylor gets a text from his Dad that he needs to be home soon, which makes them frown, but they put their phone away while Scary makes ramen for both of them, since Taylor asked very nicely and Lincoln admitted to never having ramen before, which Taylor took as a personal offense.

Lincoln was deeply confused about most of the stuff in Scary’s apartment, mostly with the electronic appliances. Taylor doesn’t know too much about Heaven besides the history he was taught as a kid, but it’s seeming like Heaven is not vaguely similar to Earth like Scary says Hell is. Taylor thinks it’s pretty fun though, getting to explain different things to Link, the same way they like to explain the parts of Hell history that had happened way before Scary’s soul started existing. Link’s perception of history seems to be way too clouded with Heaven Angel propaganda so getting to compare how they both learned things was really interesting.

TJ gets home from work at the magic shop and gives both Taylor and Scary that lecture he had mentioned before, thought it’s pretty ineffective with the combination of Scary’s lack of interest and Taylor’s stubborn nature, which is how it usually goes when TJ tries to lecture them. TJ and Lincoln meet, and it’s incredibly awkward. Link keeps calling him Mr. Marlowe, even after TJ says she can just call him TJ. It’s even more funny because TJ’s last name is Stampler. Scary is enraged by this as well because it means someone is saying that TJ is her dad. It’s been a long time since Scary and TJ died, and their relationship has definitely gotten better but Scary is stubborn, and they need space. So calling TJ her dad was completely off the table.

Eventually Taylor gets a phone call from his Dad, who tells him that they need to get back to the castle, because it was one of the nights where Grandpa Jodie was having royals from another circle over for dinner, and Taylor as a prince needed to attend. So Taylor says goodbye to his new found friend, and his old friend, and his old friend’s not-dad. But they leave feeling happy and excited, with a promise of stopping by the next day. They like Lincoln, she’s really cool.

#fics 💫#posted this on my main acc 4 swiftli week but since its for this au i thought id post it entirely on this blog #dndads #dndads s2 #dndads taylor swift #dungeons & daddies #dungeons and daddies #taylor swift dndads #lincoln li wilson #linc li wilson #link li wilson #swiftli #scary marlowe #terri marlowe #terry jr stampler #terry jr #nicky close foster #nicky foster #nicky close

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