#Because Rhiannon is a GOOD woman

[margridarnauds]

#NO LITERALLY#theyve done something awful but what choice do they have? rhiannon can't protect herself nvm them!!#love this fuckin take youve done it again R#the mabinogi It REALLY struck me this read-through how thoroughly screwed Rhiannon is from the get-go. Because like...how shall I put this? I think, in the past, I put more stock in her status as queen + bond with Pwyll than the text actually does. Because the lords are ALREADY calling for her removal -- they want Pwyll to marry another woman. And they're not monsters for this! The text goes out of its way to say that they do this out of love! They're just....men. And Rhiannon is just a woman. And she's a woman who isn't One of Them. I want to do more on this one day, but I think that interpretations that make her explicitly a fairy woman miss out on the raw horror that she is a HUMAN WOMAN being exposed to this, simply because she's vulnerable, she hasn't given birth to a son, and she isn't One of Them. If it was their daughter, or their sister? She would probably get a pass. But she ISN'T.

She promises to protect them, but can she really, when the wolves come baying at her door? The boy is missing, SOMEONE has to pay, and there's something about how she's described, when she goes to sleep, as "mam y mab Riannon" -- she is the MOTHER to the son of Rhiannon, SHE is not the important one. Her job security just got yanked through the chimney.

I jokingly asked this time about how they could possibly mistake the bones of something else for a newborn baby (because, if nothing else, there tends to be a difference in size, along with anatomy), and one of my colleagues very seriously told me that the Mabinogi exists in a state of heightened reality and you can't take it too literally. (I mean, just because YOU'VE never been whisked off to a magical world to switch places with an Otherworldly king...) But that explanation, while valid and coming from a good place, didn't sit FULLY well with me because...well. The EVENTS of the Mabinogi tend to be fantastical, but the underlying psychology tends to NOT be. What Gwydion does in the Fourth Branch is, to put it lightly, unrealistic, but we know why he does it: He loves his brother and he loves his nephew. Why does Llwyd do his fucked up little magic show in the Third Branch? Because no one cares about Gwawl (which, tbf, the audience has likely forgotten Gwawl by that point.) In and amongst the horrors of the Fourth Branch, Manawydan promises Cigfa he'll protect her. We get glimpses into both Pwyll AND the wife of Arawn's POVs during the switch in the First Branch.

The point is...it's fantastical, yes, but it also tends to be psychologically plausible. The author of the Mabinogi, whoever they were, was someone who seems to have been very interested in human behavior, the WHY for people's actions. They tend to at least give a sentence or two for why people do something. So my interpretation is this: They didn't care that the bones clearly weren't that of a newborn human. It didn't matter. I'm not even sold, during this read-through, that they actually, seriously BELIEVED that she had done it. Because Rhiannon was in a tight space from the beginning and now they had the chance to press their case against Pwyll. They didn't care because it was convenient to what they wanted. And it doesn't make the lords monstrous, but it's one more example of men dropping the ball through laziness or personal interest or just not THINKING and women paying for it.

And taking into account the situation of the women...again...they did something monstrous, but they also saw exactly where the wind was blowing and saved themselves. And the question that I think adaptations tend to lose by making them like. Stereotypical old hags or accusers in a witchcraft trial (which, also, Rhiannon HERSELF has more sympathy for them than I think adaptations tend to), but that I do think the text DOES invite us to consider is how many of US would do the same in their situation, out of a moment of panic? Maybe we wouldn't be the ones to do the monstrous action, but how many of us would sit by and say nothing? Everyone wants to be Rhiannon (...okay, besides the whole. You know. "Carrying people on your back for years" thing) -- she's clever, quick-witted, eloquent, diplomatic, brave, and generous, with one of the single most iconic lines in the entire Four Branches, as well as, naturally, being beautiful even into her later years. She's wonderful. But the reality is...how many of us can be her?

Rereading the First Branch of the Mabinogi lowkey makes me want to do a retelling of the second half, but from the perspective of one of the women who was sent to look after Baby Pryderi and framed Rhiannon.

Because like. These women do something despicable. They hurt mostly innocents. There's no softening this. They hurt someone who does nothing but try to reassure them that she'll protect them, they hurt an ENTIRELY innocent creature in a way that I literally can't type and could barely translate. There's no point where you can girlbossify this.

But the thing that the author of the Mabinogi does is that they don't act out of jealousy, or because they're naturally evil, but because they're scared. They just lost the king's son. They explicitly think that being burned to death or put to death (no, the text doesn't quite explain how burning isn't a form of being put to death) would be a small punishment. Were they noblewomen? Were they common women who found themselves in over their heads? All we know is that they were sent in to watch over the baby and fell asleep...but we know that the thing that snatches Pryderi tends to make people fall asleep. Was it really their fault? They found themselves in a situation where they were in over their head and made a monstrous decision.

Did they see Rhiannon while she was doing her penance? Did any of them feel a hint of guilt? What did they think when her penance was over and they found out that Pryderi was alive? How do you live with that kind of secret? What kind of twisted, fucked up bond do you have with someone when you've smeared blood on the queen's face and hands with them?

[unnonexistence]

.

[jackiesnats]

Desperate for You

pairing: rhiannon lewis x reader

warnings: humping, stalker!rhiannon (but it’s subtle), light manipulation, top rhiannon, desperate rhiannon, mentions fucking, begging

summary: the woman you’ve been seeing on the bus decided to sit next to you.

kinktober 23/24: dry humping

edited by my lovely girlfriend @specialinterestshows 🥰

You sat down in the back of the bus, drowning out the noise with loud music, wanting to go home more than anything at this point. Your job sucked and so did your boss. You watched as a woman sat down next to you, giving you a small smile that you were quick to return.

You weren’t sure what her name was, but you’d seen her so many times that you were fine with her sitting next to you. You relaxed a bit, leaning your head back and closed your eyes as the bus finally began to drive off. You changed the song that was playing, looking over at the woman, curious as to what she looked like up close. To your surprise, you had caught her looking at you - but she was quick to dart her eyes somewhere else as if you hadn’t.

You took an earbud out. “Everything okay?” you asked, watching as her cheeks went red.

She nodded, “Yeah, sorry, I was… just looking at the song that’s playing. You’re a fan of (Your Favorite Band)?”

You nodded, “I am! I take it that you’re a fan of them as well?”

“I am!” she smiled, “I’m Rhiannon and you must be (Your Name)?”

Rhiannon stuck her hand out and you took it, giving her a weird look. You had never given her your name - so you were unsure how she even knew it.

“Yeah…” you said, retracting your hand from hers. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of what to say.

“O- Oh sorry, I overheard you telling someone your name the other day.” Rhiannon explained, which made you relax once more.

“Sorry, I just get worried sometimes,” you explained, shaking your head. You felt stupid, almost ruining something before it even started.

She gave you an awkward smile, “I understand.”

You smiled back, standing up when the bus came to your stop. You grabbed your stuff and left, although you now had a twenty minute walk. Normally, that would be your time to think about what you needed to do, but it was raining. Before you could turn back to get on the bus, it drove off - but Rhiannon was standing right behind you, making you jump.

“What the fuck-!” you cried out, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, really,” she said, sounding sympathetic, “It’s pouring out. Here, use my umbrella.”

She opened it for you before handing it to you. The two of you walked together, and thankfully the rain stopped after a good ten minutes. “You’re soaked. My place isn’t that far from here; why don’t you come over and I can dry your clothes for you?”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.”

Rhiannon put her hand on your shoulder, “You’re not bothering me at all. I don’t work tomorrow and I live alone, so it’s really no problem.”

You hesitated, “I… I don’t know…”

You were unsure because you barely knew her. Sure, you didn’t think she could murder you, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

“At least let me get you something warm to drink,” she pleaded, sticking out her bottom lip.

You took a deep breath, nodding, “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

You hated yourself for giving in so easily, but she was persistent and you were freezing.

Once you reached her house, she unlocked the door and let you in. You missed her looking around nervously before stepping in, but watched as she shut and locked her front door, mumbling something under her breath before going upstairs. You stood there awkwardly, looking around her living room.

After five minutes, she came back with a change of clothes that… looked familiar, but you told her thank you and she showed you the way to the bathroom. You put them on and when you stepped out of the door, you were met by Rhiannon, who held out her hand to grab your wet clothes.

“I’ll wash these,” she stated. “Go on and make yourself comfy, (Your Name). I’ll make you something to drink: tea, coffee, anything you want.”

“Water is fine with me,” you called out.

Rhiannon said something, but you couldn’t quite hear what it was. You shrugged to yourself, sitting on the couch as you waited for her to come back. You looked at the clock, sighing when you saw that it was almost eleven pm. You needed to be home, in your own bed for work in the morning. Granted, you would probably be calling out, but still.

“Hey, sorry,” she said. “Here’s your water. Let me know if you want anything else, yeah?”

You nodded, “I will.”

“Do you want to watch anything? I have a nice collection of movies, or- or we can listen to music?” Rhiannon suggested.

“I should be going soon,” you say, trying your best not to sound rude. You realize now that this was a dumb decision, considering you didn’t know who this was besides seeing her on the bus. “Thank you so much for washing my clothes and the water.”

You stood up, but Rhiannon stood up too. “Wait,” she said, causing you to stop walking. You turned around to look at her, wanting to hear what she had to say. “I’m sorry if you’re weirded out by all of this. It’s just… I know we ride the same bus almost everyday, and this was our first time talking, but… please stay.”

You took a deep breath, “I’ll stay.”

You knew you were going to regret this, but that was for you to worry about later. She led you back to the couch and when both of you were sat on it, Rhiannon placed her hand on your thigh.

“You’re so pretty,” she hummed, rubbing the spot on your thigh that always turned you on. She pushed on it, causing you to moan.

You gasped, “I’m so sorry, I-“

Rhiannon cut you off, leaning in and kissing you. You pulled away, eyes wide as you tried to process what just happened.

“I- you don’t even have to let me fuck you, I just… I want to hump you,” Rhiannon admitted.

This should have been your cue to run out of there and go home, but after she touched your thigh, you folded. “O- Okay.”

Rhiannon led you upstairs to her bedroom, not giving you any time to look around as she pushed you onto the bed. “Hands and knees, keep your pants on,” she instructed and you did as you were told.

You turned your head to the side so you could see her take off her pants and underwear. You licked your lips at the sight of her, wishing you could taste her.

“Sorry I didn’t shave,” she sighed as she climbed onto the bed.

“D- Don’t apologize,” you whimpered as she grabbed you by your hips.

Rhiannon didn’t say anything as she started to grind against you. You whimpered, trying to push back against her, but she held you in place.

As she began to speed up her movements, wishing she would take your clothes off, you moaned out. You laid there and took what she gave you, Rhiannon snapped her hips as you stopped holding yourself up.

“God,” she moaned.

“Pl- Please take my pants off, I need to feel you,” you begged. To your surprise, Rhiannon stopped her movements, pulling your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

She held you in place, grinding against you and as you felt how wet she was, you grew closer to your own orgasm. Before you could say anything, she spoke up.

“Please, please, please let me fuck you. I’ll go buy a toy as soon as I can,” she begged, humping you harder. You cried out, gripping the sheets as she picked up her movements.

”Yes,” you gasped.

Rhiannon came with a cry, riding out her orgasm. Before you could come, she pulled away. You bit back your groan, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“That was really fun,” she smiled.

You nodded, “I agree.”

Maybe you weren’t going to regret this after all.

[gingersnaptaff]

POLL TIME 2 ☺️☺️

Some background for each!

Gwalchmai: The OG Gawain, slayer of giants in Welsh myth, besties with Owain and Peredur. He's known for his gold/silver tongue and is literally like The Best Boi. I am enamoured with him. Tells Cai to do one when Peredur gives him a broken arm. Also this passage single-handedly convinced me that Peredur and Gwalchmai are a couple: 'And Peredur and Gwalchmai went to Gwalchmai's pavilion to take off their armour. And Peredur put on the same kind of garment that Gwalchmai wore. And they went hand in hand to where Arthur was, and greeted him.' Thank u, Sioned Davies.

Branwen: Is the only woman in the Mabinogi to have a branch named after her. Literally the sweetest woman ever. Her dad is the sea God, Llŷr, and her brothers are Bendigeidfran and Manawydan. Trained a starling to send messages to Bendigeidfran to say she was being abused by the Irish court in an absolutely amazing move. Sadly she passes away once she's made it back to Wales alongside Manawydan, Pryderi, and five other men (and Bendigeidfran's severed head!) '"Oh son of God," she said, "woe that I was even born. Two good islands have been laid waste because of me!" She gives a mighty sigh and her heart breaks. And they make a four-sided grave for her and bury her there on the banks of the Alaw.'

Cai: OG Kay. Depending on what u read he is either the most renowned warrior ever - 'Prince of plunder/The unrelenting warrior to his enemy' as Pa Gur yv y Porthaur says - the possession of the most fuckin batshit magical powers as Culhwch ac Olwen relates: 'Cai had magical qualities. For nine days and nine nights, he could hold his breath under water. For nine nights and nine days, he could go without sleep. A wound from Cai's sword no physician could heal.' And so it goes on. Or he is literally the most grumpo to have ever grumped and I respect him hugely.

Blodeuwedd: OWL WOMAN. FLOWER-FACE. 'Then they took the flowers of the oak, and the flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet, and from those they conjured up the fairest and most beautiful maiden that anyone had ever seen.' She is literally stupidly beautiful AND SHE PLOTS TO KILL HER HUSBAND, LLEU, WHO QUITE FRANKLY DESERVED IT. A fuckin queen. She fucked over Gwydion's bb boi in one fell swoop, I simply MUST Stan.

Finally, RHIANNON: HORSE WOMAN. QUEEN OF DYFED. LITERAL TYLWYTH TEG LADY. She literally says to Pwyll - who she later marries - 'Be silent for as long as you like: never has a man been more stupid than you have been.' And if a woman said that to me I WOULD PERISH. also had an amazingly fast horse and like dhdjdddj when Pwyll dies - in a, I presume, stupidity-related incident - Rhiannon marries Branwen's brother Manawydan and actually gets treated with respect instead of whatever fuckery Pwyll was pulling.

Anyways VOTE, VOTE, VOTE. Best two go through to the quarter finals. U only have 1 DAY TO VOTE SO ZOOMIES!!!!

[rhiannonsknife]

── I JUST WANNA BE A GOOD PASSENGER

— summary: sweetpea book 2&3 spoilers!! you work aboard the cruise ship rhiannon takes to flee the uk.

— warnings: implied canon typical violence. based on the third book. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

the woman has been watching you for days.

you first noticed her during a busy afternoon in valencia, three days ago. the deck was packed with passengers, soaking in the sun and sipping overpriced cocktails. you were darting between tables, balancing trays and weaving through conversations in a dozen different languages when you felt it: an itch between your shoulder blades, a weight that told you someone was watching.

you glanced up and spotted her immediately: seated in the corner, a half-empty glass of something expensive in her hand, her head tilted slightly as if to study you. unable to help yourself, you held her gaze for a moment too long, long enough to see her lips curl into the faintest smile, sharp and knowing.

flustered, you ducked your head and focused on clearing plates, trying to shake the feeling that she’d seen right through you.

the next day, in mallorca, she was there again.

you were restocking the bar during the afternoon when you saw her sitting at the counter. she was sipping her drink slowly, her gaze fixed on you like she had nothing better to do. you’d felt heat creeping up your neck as she raised her glass in a silent acknowledgment.

by the time the ship reached marseille, her presence was impossible to ignore.

the stranger seemed to be everywhere: perched on a chair on the upper deck, strolling through the dining room during your shift, lingering at the bar long after most passengers had retired for the night. and always, always watching you.

at first, you chalked it up to curiosity.

passengers often watched the staff with a detached kind of interest, a casual pastime during their endless hours on deck. but this woman was different. her gaze wasn’t idle or distracted; it was sharp, focused, and unrelenting. it followed you as you moved through the room, as if she was waiting for something. something only you could give her.

now, as you work your shift in the lounge, you catch her watching you again.

she’s sitting in her usual corner, her glass held delicately between two fingers, her gaze fixed on you.

it doesn’t help that she’s beautiful. this exact woman -with hair that falls in flawless waves, a silk blouse pressed to an almost eerie sharpness, and an accent that would probably sound sexy if it wasn’t so obviously fake- has been looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing.

it’s unnerving. and, if you’re being honest, a little thrilling.

“excuse me, could you bring me another drink?” she’d asked earlier, flashing you a too-wide smile that made your heart stutter in your chest.

you’d nodded and rushed to fulfill her request, grateful for the excuse to get away from her penetrating stare.

you can’t put your finger on why she unsettles you so much. perhaps it’s because she reminds you of someone. someone from a story on the news, or maybe from a true crime podcast you half-listened to on a rare day off…

the thought doesn’t fully take hold until later, when you’re wiping down a table and catch her watching you again. this time, she doesn’t even bother to look away when your eyes meet. she raises her glass in another mock toast and winks, as if to say, i see you, too.

that’s when it clicks.

rhiannon lewis.

you’d seen her face all over the news just days before boarding the ship: a story about a woman linked to a string of gruesome murders back in the UK.

but it couldn’t be her, could it? rhiannon lewis, whose name is still dominating all english speaking news channels on the cruise, wouldn’t be sipping cocktails on a luxury ship like she’s not the most wanted woman in england, would she? not with her face plastered all over international media.

and yet.

you can’t unsee the resemblance now. the sharpness of her cheekbones, the way she carries herself, and the unsettlingly fake australian accent she’s been using all night.

you tell yourself to let it go. she’s a guest, a passenger. it’s not your job to interrogate her about her past or her identity. you’re here to serve drinks, clean rooms, and, in a best case scenario, collect tips, not solve crime cases.

still, when your shift ends and you’re on your way back to your quarters, your steps falter outside her room. it’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross. using what you’ve picked up from cleaning service schedules to linger here is against every rule, spoken or unspoken.

your shift is over and the night is supposed to end with you back in your cabin, decompressing with a book or a podcast (or, truthfully, with your hand shoved between your thighs and the imaginary voice of a certain someone in your ear…).

your feet carried you here anyway, like on autopilot. like something inside you wanted to see where this might go.

before you can knock, if you would’ve found the courage to knock at all, the door opens.

she’s standing there in a silk robe, her hair loose and shimmering under the dim corridor light. her smile, that exact same, perfect curve of her lips grows wider when she sees you.

“well, well,” she purrs, her accent still awful. “fancy seeing you here. i wasn’t expecting room service at this hour…?”

“i wasn’t-“ you falter, words stumbling under her gaze. “i didn’t mean to-“

she knows. she obviously knows.

“didn’t mean to what?” she interrupts, tilting her head like she’s genuinely curious. “stand outside my door looking like a deer in headlights? or…” she steps aside, gesturing you inside with a slow wave of her hand. “were you planning to come in all along?”

you should leave. there are at least a hundred reasons for you turn around and walk away. rules about professionalism, the nagging suspicion in the back of your mind that this woman isn’t who she claims to be…still, your feet move forward.

she shuts the door behind you, the click of the lock oddly loud in the small space.

“you’ve been staring at me,” she says, leaning against the wall casually. it’s not a question either, she’s stating facts. “not very subtle, are you?”

“i wasn’t staring!” your protest sounds weak even to your own ears, and her smirk widens.

“oh, you absolutely were,” she says, her voice dropping an octave lower smoothly. “i’ve seen that look before, you know…?“

her words send a jolt through you. her accent, on purpose or not, has slipped back into the standard british you’re used to. you step back instinctively, only to find the edge of the bed pressing against the backs of your thighs.

the woman moves closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. “what’s your name?” she asks.

you hesitate, your mind scrambling for a reason to leave. but then her hand brushes against yours, just the ghost of a touch, and every coherent thought slips away from you.

“what’s yours?” you counter.

“hilary,” she says with a sheepish smile, the name rolling off her tongue like she doesn’t even believe it herself.

“hilary,” you repeat slowly. the way she watches your mouth when you say it makes your skin prickle.

in the light of her cabin, she looks even more like the woman from the news. the resemblance is striking to a point where you genuinely wonder if it’s physically possible to look so much like rhiannon lewis without being her.

her gaze remains on your lips shamelessly. when she leans in, your breath catches in your throat.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat. you wonder if it would make a difference at all if she really was rhiannon.

“neither are you,” you reply, aiming for something. a confession, maybe, a sign that your suspicions are true. the words hang in the air between you like a challenge.

she smiles, pleased with your sudden boldness. if you’re challenging her, then she’s accepting.

her hand brushes your cheek, calloused fingers tracing a line down to your jaw, and you shiver under her touch.

“i think we’re going to get along just fine” she murmurs, the rasp in her voice even more prominent now that she’s no longer bothering to keep up the australian accent.

when her lips finally meet yours, it’s not tentative or unsure. it’s possessive, demanding, all tongue and teeth, and you’re helpless to do anything but kiss her back.

her hands fall to your waist, urging you closer by your uniform, which suddenly seems too itchy and tight. too restricting. you don’t resist until her body is flush against yours. and even then, the world outside this room ceases to exist. the ocean that’s gently swaying the ship, the rules and etiquette about staff and passengers, even the unsettling familiarity of her face: all of it fades into the background.

you gasp into the woman’s mouth, which she uses as her opportunity to deepen the kiss and lick past your lips.

when your back hits the edge of the bed, she presses you down onto the mattress. the silk robe she's wearing parts slightly, brushing against your bare skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

her weight settles over you, not crushing, but deliberate, and her hands are everywhere: tracing the curve of your waist, sliding up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. every touch is calculated, purposeful, and it sets your nerves alight in ways you didn't expect.

"hilary," you murmur, the name foreign and clunky on your tongue, as if it doesn’t quite suit her. you can’t put a finger to it.

she pauses, her lips hovering just above yours, and for a moment you think you've said something wrong. then she smirks. "not thinking of backing out now, are you?"

you immediately shake your head, unable to form proper sentences. she takes that as permission, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time. her lips move against yours with a practiced ease, like she's done this a hundred times before.

simultaneously, her hands slide under your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach, and you shudder at the coldness of her touch. but then something makes you hesitate-something subtle but impossible to ignore:

as her hands move higher, you notice the slight swell just above her hips, the faintest curve that doesn't quite match the rest of her frame. it's soft, tender in a way that feels out of place with the sharpness of her movements, and when your fingers brush her there, she freezes.

her eyes snap up to meet yours, and for just a heartbeat, the confidence she's been exuding all night falters.

"is that-" you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, more desperate this time, as if she could silence the question before it fully forms.

you don't push it, though your mind is racing. the swell beneath your hand feels fresh, like the aftermath of something recent, and the pieces start clicking together in your head. the halfhearted accent. the overly polished mannerisms. the way her eyes dart around the room like she's always on edge. and now this.

rhiannon lewis, so you’ve heard, left a newborn behind.

you don't pull away. instead, you soften your touch, letting your hands rest against her sides in a way that feels less curious and more grounding.

she notices the change, her body relaxing slightly, and when she pulls back to look at you, there's something vulnerable in her eyes that wasn't there before.

"don’t," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "don’t look at me like that”

"like what?"

"like you know me at all,” her gaze hardens again, the mask slipping back into place.

you hesitate for a moment, searching her face for something, anything, that might tell you what to do next. but all you see is the same hunger, the same desperation that's been driving her from the start.

so you kiss her again. not because you've forgotten the truth, but because -for some reason you can't explain- it doesn't matter.

her hands are on you again, tugging at your clothes with a kind of urgency that makes your head spin.

when she finally pulls away, her breathing ragged and her lips swollen, she looks at you expectantly. with nowhere to be and the urge to feel more of her, your fingers reach for the robe she’s wearing. it’s doing a terrible job of hiding anything at all anyway. you might not have given yourself permission to blatantly stare before, but now that she -rhiannon, hilary, whoever this stranger may be- is on top of you, there’s no stopping your wandering hands and eyes.

you don’t need to push the fabric off of her to see the outline of her full breasts, her hardened nipples or the fact that she’s only wearing a pair of panties underneath. you do it anyway, satisfied with the shiver that runs down her spine as her bare skin is revealed to you.

she is beautiful. even more so, now that there’s nothing restricting your view anymore. you can look right at her; at the swell of her chest and the marks on her belly that you can’t help but trace with the tips of your fingers. above you, she gasps breathlessly and your eyes instantly dart in her direction, just to find that she’s watching you already, lips parted, eyes hooded as your hand trails upwards.

you don’t falter, looking right at her the first time you touch her, fingers gently squeezing one nipple between them until she starts rocking her hips against you.

moving lower once you’re satisfied with how hard it’s grown to the touch, you whisper: “can i..?”

the woman, who must’ve been on the verge of getting lost in the sensation of your stimulation, looks down at you momentarily. then, her palm pushes you back into the mattress. you bounce on it with the force of her push but hilary rhiannon doesn’t give you any time to catch up. instead, she shifts her weight to her knees and brings one hand to the headboard above you.

“i’ll sit on your face” she says, stating it like it’s a fact. “can you use that pretty mouth of yours?”

mere minutes later, and your find yourself in that exact position.

your fingers are digging into the soft flesh of hilary’s rhiannon’s thighs, your tongue lapping up the arousal that’s dripping from her cunt, down her thighs, and all over your face.

even from this angle and the little you can see, she looks beautiful: her bangs are clinging to the sweat on her forehead, her brows furrowed in pleasure and her lips parted.

you don’t mind the weight resting upon your face. if anything, you enjoy the pressure of her knees on either side of your face, the way she drags her wetness across it until your nose is nestled against her clit and your tongue is buried deep inside her.

you must be covered in her, at this rate, your whole face glistening with her arousal. you can feel it in the way her skin slides against it, taste it all over your mouth.

hilary rhiannon is throbbing, against and around you, dripping more with each pulse of her cunt.

“fucking god-“ she moans from above, wrecked with the pleasure you’re providing. you wonder how long it’s been since somebody has touched her, fucked her like this.

rhiannon’s legs are trembling around your head, knees pushing deeper into the sheets.

with the little that remains of your professionalism, you're aware that she's being too loud for the thin walls of the cruise. and while you know she shouldn't be drawing any unwanted attention to herself, you can't bring yourself to hush her. you don't care when her fingers yank you closer, deeper into her. you don't care when a satisfied sigh escapes her as your tongue delves further.

“right there” she whispers and your eyes catch the way rhiannon’s head falls back, though it’s hard make out the words over the obscene slurping noises from licking broad strokes through her pussy. “oh, fuck, yeah right there!”

she feels so good on top of you, you wonder if you could cum from nothing but your desperate attempts to rock your hips up into the nothingness between them and your body aches with the need to get yourself off. you don’t even have to check for yourself to feel the slick wetness that’s smearing across your own thighs.

rhiannon’s fist tightens in your hair, cradling you by the back of your head. you let her, gladly welcoming the way she maneuvers your lips until they’re exactly where she needs them, latching onto her clit.

“you wanna make me cum?” she coos.

you do, regardless of how badly you need to feel her touch too. rhiannon braces herself against the headboard, her upper body slumping forward so she’s looking right at you.

“mhm” you manage, involuntarily grinding against her, the shift making her bounce ever so slightly.

“oh that’s it!” rhiannon exhales in response, her lashes fluttering. you reach up, one hand daring to hold her hip as she begins to pick up the pace until she’s no longer sitting, but riding on your face.

“that’s it, you’re gonna make me cum!” she cries out between some incoherent words and soft moans.

naturally, you double your efforts, making sure you apply extra pressure against her clit where she’s rutting against your nose as you bury your tongue deep inside her hole all over again. that’s where she seems to like it the most, getting the loudest whenever you enter her.

the first thing you notice as rhiannon cums is the way she tenses. her muscles flex, closing in around your head, and tremble with the sudden tension. her back straightens too and even her jaw locks as she moves. with the last strength left in her, she rocks herself against your face to completion.

then, there’s the way her walls flutter around your tongue, the way her fingers tangle themselves up in the mess she’s made of your hair, the way her lips part in a silent scream before it all comes crashing down on her.

rhiannon’s whole weight collapses on top of you, her cunt throbbing the entire time that it takes for her to catch her breath.

you don’t take her for the cuddling type until she drapes her arms underneath your back and snuggles her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply.

you wonder if she can smell herself there, now that she’s all over your face, or if it’s your scent she is inhaling. either way, you let her and slowly put your own arms around her.

it isn’t until rhiannon’s deep breaths have turned into shaky gasps and the bed gently creaks under the shift of her weight that you notice that she’s grinding against your thigh.

slowly, you lift your head from the mattress, catching a glimpse of closed eyes and parted lips.

“do you-“

“sh,” she harshly cuts you off. then, she blinks one eye open, looking the closest to apologetic you’ve eber seen her -which, truthfully, isn’t all that much.

“just…” rhiannon puts a hand down on your shoulder. “just stay there and…” whatever she was going to say morphs into a soft moan as she drags her center over the length of your thigh.

you can do that for her, you decide, but not without being just a little bit selfish in the process: rhiannon’s legs have fallen open around yours. with the slightest shift of your hips, so insignificant she doesn’t seem to notice, you’re pressed right against her thigh as well. you don’t even have to move, with rhiannon now steadily grinding, pressing herself further into you with every roll of her hips.

involuntarily, you whine and throw your head back into the pillows as she rocks against you.

you knew you were turned on before, but completely oblivious to how close you’ve gotten from her riding your face. now, with your clit rubbing against rhiannon’s skin through your underwear, you become painfully aware of it.

her lips trace your jaw, pressing against it before closing around the tender flesh and sucking.

how long would it take for her to draw blood like this? would she like to see you bleed for her? for your skin to bloom with reds and purples that her mouth left in its wake?

you don’t get a chance to find out, because rhiannon drops her forehead against your shoulder instead, grinding back and forth desperately.

“fuck,” you whine, unable to hold back. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

rhiannon hushes you again, this time with a kiss. she must taste herself in your mouth because she eagerly licks past your lips for more.

it’s all too much to take; the flexed muscle of her leg against your clit, rhiannon’s spit mixing with the remains of her arousal on your tongue, the little noises she lets out with every roll of her hips.

at a particular good motion of her hips, you can’t help yourself anymore: you feel your abdomen coiling in pleasure suddenly, a ragged “rhiannon!” coming from your mouth as your soaked cunt contracts around nothing.

your fingers reach around her back, nails digging into her skin when you release through your underwear and all over her thigh.

whether it’s the sound of her name or the feeling of your orgasm beneath herself, rhiannon follows shortly after, cumming with a soft cry.

as she recovers from the second orgasm and you struggle to catch your breath, rhiannon stays on your chest.

she doesn’t ask you about the name. in return, you don’t ask for her real identity. whoever she is, you’re sure this is a thing that should remain unspoken.

“that was…” you finally manage, trailing off. your eyes are already scanning the space for the clothes you’ve shed. if you don’t pick them up soon, your uniform will get all wrinkled for the next shift.

“you’re not staying?” she asks, catching you off guard.

“i should be working,” you remind her, trying to move.

she kisses you again, holding on tightly. the first flight of panic you feel vanishes in an instant when you ask: “what is it?” and rhiannon responds: “hug.”

“i have to go,” you chuckle. you’ve already broken the rules by sleeping with a passenger. you can’t afford to fall in love with one, especially not her.

“i know, i know,” she mutters. “just for a bit. please?”

so you do, lying with her until her hold on you releases. you’re still the first to pull away.

“see you,” you can’t help but tell her once you’re dressed again.

“will you?”

“i clean your room once a day,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “i’m bound to!”

— a/n: i‘ve been waiting since november just so i could post this on january 8th 😭😭 (also i couldn’t find a good rhiannon picture for the header, but that one is so book-3-rhiannon-coded)

context: (massive spoiler warning!): in book 2, rhiannon gets caught and is forced to flee the country for a new identity. during the book, she’s pregnant with aj’s baby but decides to leave her daughter behind so she can continue killing. on the cruise, she pretends to be an australian woman called hilary.

[t4tlottie]

hot to go! — RHIANNON LEWIS

— pairing: pregnant!rhiannon lewis x afab!reader

includes smut. repost. just thinking about pregnant rhiannon again. based on the books.

thinking about pregnant!rhiannon who always goes to the little shops along the seaside and pretends like she's gonna buy something just to get away from jim and elaine. god bless them but sometimes they just get too doting and it's annoying.

and good god is she ever horny. even the goddamn carrot jim cuts up for dinner gets her horny. she just needs something inside of her now or she might die. she's resorted to flirting with the mailman in hopes of getting some but she thinks her visible bump is getting in the way.

but, she does notice this cute grocery bagger who always stares at her tits when they check her out (that's you btw). she absolutely relishes in the attention. at first, she thought you might've had a pregnancy kink because no one in their right mind would ogle her body in this state. i mean, she's got dozens of pimples lining her face, her nipples look like they belong on a pepperoni pizza, she's gained about 10 pounds and she's given up on makeup. there must be something wrong with you.

at this point, she doesn't care. you seem to check all the boxes for her. she knows you're above the legal age (she overheard you talking about college classes with your manager, something about rescheduling for next week) and that's all she needs to know before she pounces on you.

she makes her move the following day.

she wore her brightest and tightest white shirt with no bra that day. it's tight enough that it turns into a crop top and shows off her growing belly along with her constantly hard nipples, something she thinks you'll appreciate. she strolls in, heading straight towards the register she knows you always work at and frowns when you're not there. ugh, time looking for you equals less time fucking. now she's pissed at you. she feels something throbbing down there still...

she decides to grab a cart and do some light shopping. maybe you'll miraculously appear like you always do and come save the day by eating her out in the middle of the dairy aisle. god, she can feel her wetness squelch as she walks just from thinking about you. she wonders what the fine would be for public masturbation. she seriously considers it.

like superman, you appear just as she almost gives up and tries again tomorrow. you walk out of the back and head towards your register, turning your light on. score. she leaves the half-empty cart full of random shit she dragged in and practically jogs toward you. baby didn't like that. she halts, the sound of her sneakers making a loud squeaking sound as she grabs her stomach in pain. this little fucker kicks really hard, dammit.

you look toward the noise and see her; the woman of your dreams. she's been coming in for a few weeks now. you've never seen her here before, and you practically know all the townspeople by name. you have developed a tiny crush. okay, maybe tiny is an understatement. it's a massive crush. you don't know if she has awoken something inside of you, but you've never liked the body of a pregnant woman like you have hers. she's so beautiful. she's creating and holding life inside of her and okay, you know what, maybe you do love her tits and her hard nipples that you always notice through her shirt more than anything. and god, when she wears her hair in a ponytail? you'd get down on your knees in an instant for her if there weren't a dozen security cameras around.

you can't think about that right now though, there's a pregnant woman in pain!

you rush toward her, standing awkwardly with your hands hovering over her arms. "shit, uh, are you okay? do you need me to call someone?" you watch her exhale shakily and wonder if you're about to help this woman give birth right now. you're only an hour into your shift, you can't do this shit. "do you need to sit down?"

she nods, letting you lead her over to a bench near the front area, sitting her down and still, awkwardly hovering over her. don't stare at her chest, don't stare at her chest, don't stare at her chest. you check your phone while she calms down and blush and chuckle at her attempts to flirt with you.

"i guess the baby really likes you. so do i."

or

"are you talking to me or my breasts? because i don't mind either one."

you really need to work on your eye contact.

"i'm okay now. she was just kicking like crazy in there," she tells you. she still feels a bit lightheaded, but she's unsure if it's because of the kicks or because she's sitting so close and can practically feel the hormones wafting off of you. "i was actually looking for you."

"you were? what for?" you ask, turning your body to face her, quickly glancing at her exposed midriff.

"i was going to drag you out to my car and ride your face but i couldn't find you." her face is completely blank as she says this. she almost breaks and laughs when she hears you choke on your spit, but just gives you a raise of her eyebrows and tilts her head. "I'm serious."

you swallow hard and can't even open your mouth to say, "yes! fucking hell, yes! take me out to your car and have your way with me! i love you!" so you do the next best thing which is to make an embarrassingly whiny noise from the back of your throat and nod.

so here you are, getting situated in the back of rhiannon's truck as she lies you down and peels off her clothes. it's uncomfortable as hell, but you're not about to say anything and potentially ruin this for yourself. you sit up on your arms and watch her perky breasts bounce as she kicks off her jeans and underwear, your eyes locked in a trance. you're suddenly pushed back down and grunt at the force, smiling a bit at her eagerness.

"ready?" she places her legs on either side of your body and scoots her way up. your breath quickens as you see her pussy get closer and closer to you, and jesus fuck, you nearly cum on the spot when a drop of her wetness dribbles down and hits your chin. before you can even answer her, she slams her cunt onto your face and begins riding. "oh my god." she gasps, nails digging into the car seat and scratching it up.

you moan into her delicious pussy, licking up every last drop of her wetness like you're starving. you reach up and blindly grab for her chest, gripping onto her tits like they're your lifeline. rhiannon purrs when you begin massaging them, grinding her pussy down harder into your face and bouncing on your tongue. you flick and tug at her huge nipples, brows furrowing slightly when you feel some liquid come out of them.

"that's never happened before," she pants, eyes fluttering from the feeling. "but, fuck, keep doing it." she doesn't give you a choice either way, her hands come up and keep your hands on her chest, rubbing them with you.

"i might have to take you back to my house," she says breathlessly, head tilted back as moans spill from her mouth. "keep you locked up in the basement and only use you when i need to get off. bet you'd like that wouldn't you?"

you whimper in response, nodding your head against her pussy and pulling her even deeper into your mouth. you feel her clench around your tongue and grin. opening your eyes slightly, you get a faceful of her belly but you can see her sweaty face above it, drool all over her chin, and eyes shut in pleasure.

as if she can sense you, she opens her eyes and looks down.

"make me cum and i'll take you back home."

[vevobly]

Being Rhiannon Lewis's Lover! (Pre-Relationship) [1]

A/N: My contribution to the growing pile of Rhiannon works! Also, to avoid confusing anyone, I wrote this with a gender-neutral reader in mind and with them as coworkers with her.

Rhiannon is an observant woman, and though you haven't made much of an impact on her life before, you do now. She starts noticing you more than she realizes, spotting you in crowded rooms or catching glimpses of you from the corner of her eyes. She brushes it off as a coincidence at first, but soon enough, she finds herself actively looking for you.

Rhiannon doesn't usually go out of her way to interact with others, especially not without good reasons, but with you? She finds herself breaking that. It doesn't matter if it's like, a sarcastic comment here or a passing compliment there, she always has this way of making sure you know she noticed you. Even if she acts like it's no big deal (It is, she just doesn't want to acknowledge it yet at that point).

Rhiannon might be across the room or at her desk, but she'll always catch herself glancing your way. Of course, it's not obvious to anyone else, but you can tell when her gaze lingers on you for just a second longer than usual (what can you say? you're an observant person too). She quickly looks away if you notice though, immediately resorting to pretending that she wasn't and that it was nothing.

After almost every conversation or meeting she has with you, she replays everything that happened back in her mind—overanalyzing everything from the small bits to the big ones. Did you notice her lingering too long? Did her voice shake when she spoke to you? It's not like her to get flustered, but she can't help and care more than she lets on.

Rhiannon doesn't do grand gestures, but she occasionally surprises you with thoughtful actions. Maybe she'll bring you coffee without you asking or notice you're staying late and bring you snacks to keep you going. Small acts of kindness that speak volumes. And again, she'll act like it's not a big deal, but it's clear to you that she's looking out for you.

Even though Rhiannon doesn't go out of her way to be overly helpful to you with your own work, she still offers you assistance on certain tasks sometimes, but in a low-key way. She provides small pieces of advice on a project you're stuck on or suggests a way to improve your work without outright saying you need help. She tries her best to make it seem neutral but she definitely wants to guide you.

When you interact with other coworkers, especially if they seem way too friendly to you? Rhiannon wouldn't be able to help herself and feel a pang of jealousy. She'll try to hide it behind by making some sarcastic remark or pretending like she does not care, but you'll find her watching your exchange with said coworker a little too closely for comfort. Like a predator making sure to secure their prey.

When Rhiannon asks you about your weekend plans or personal life, she'll try so hard to act casual, but you can tell she's kinda desperate to know about it. Like it's important, ancient knowledge she needs to know. She'll act like it's just a friendly conversation between two colleagues, but she'll be staring at you like an eagle and asking you follow-up questions to keep the whole conversation going.

On the rare occasions when you're not at work whether it's a sick day, vacation, or just an absence. Rhiannon will find herself looking for you. As always, she tries to be as professional and not let it show, but she misses you badly like a child missing their parent or favorite toy. She'll be distracted more often than usual just because of the fact you're not around at work.

She's careful about boundaries, whether physical or emotional and tries her best to make sure she respects yours. But there ARE moments when she goes a little beyond her usual limits: asking you personal questions, offering help in ways that cross into more intimate territory.. playing it off as casual as usual.

[dreamwatch]

Town Called Malice

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #21 - Prompt: Hate This Town | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: hospitals, mention of injuries | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: angst, good uncle Wayne Munson, friendship

It’s been two days since the earthquake.

Their house has gone, Benji their beautiful mutt is missing. His sister hasn’t stopped crying.

Once they were all at grandma’s, mom went straight back to work. They’d watched neighbours bodies get pulled from their homes, some alive, some dead; she was needed elsewhere.

He went twenty four hours not knowing what happened to his friends. Jeff and Matty are ok.

Mom was the one that told him about Eddie, and you know, she’s his mom and he knows she wants to tell him more but as they like to say in their home, she took the ‘hippopotamus oath’ so all she says is “you need to speak to Wayne” and then because he’s not freaked out enough she adds “today.”

He knows his way round this hospital like the back of his hand. His little brother, Owen, has managed to acquire a cast or stitches in each of his thirteen years on this planet. His mom has been a nurse here since before Rhiannon, his older sister, was born. 

He’s never visited the ICU.

Before he heads up there he passes by the ER and gets a hug and kiss from his mom. She’s told him nothing, just that it’s not good and it would be good to let Wayne know they were thinking about Eddie. She gives him a final kiss on the cheek and then he heads up to the fourth floor.

Visitation is strict here, you can’t just walk in and wander around, doctors and nurses are rushing in and out of rooms constantly; people are spending as much time in ICU dying as they are surviving. But he’s not planning on going inside.

He finds a seat in the waiting area at the end of the hall. There’s ashtrays and a vending machine here and he knows Wayne Munson and there’s no way he won’t need a coffee and a cigarette at some stage. And sure enough he’s there about forty minutes when Wayne walks past him.

He gives him a second, doesn’t want to pounce on him from nowhere, lets him smoke his cigarette, watching the jittery movement of his hand. Wayne comes across as dour, hard faced, but he has a golden vein of mischief that runs through him, and he’s prone to fits of giggles, especially at Eddie’s expense. But that glint in his eyes is gone.

He finishes his smoke and stands in front of the coffee machine, coin in hand. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was just making his selection, but Gareth does know him. Wayne stands like a statue, coin in his hand, staring into nothing.

“Mr Munson?”

Wayne spins, eyes sharp and Gareth can imagine why. But Wayne’s face softens when he sees its him. 

“Since when do you call me that?”

Gareth gives him a one shouldered shrug in reply.

Wayne gets his coffee and sits in the chair next to him lighting another cigarette.

“Your mom sent you up, huh?”

“I would have come anyway.”

“She’s a good woman, your ma.” He takes a sip of the coffee, his face souring at it. “Jeffrey okay? Matthew?”

“Yeah, they’re all safe.”

Wayne sighs. “That’s good. Eddie would be worried, so that’s good.”

The mention of Eddie’s name pricks ears in the waiting area, and Gareth is wishing just one of them to say a fucking word because he’s ready to let go.

“What happened?” 

Wayne sighs, loaded and weary. “They’re saying he was bit. Dogs, or wolves or something. Spooked by the earthquake.”

What the fuck? “Wolves?”

“It’s bullshit. He’s been carved up, no dog did that to him,” Wayne says, voice rising, waiting area now fully watching him. “People in this town think we’re stupid. Think they know who we are, what we are. Well I ain’t stupid. I swear to God, when I find whoever did that—" his voice breaks, rough and tired, “to my boy, going to be a lot of very sorry people in this piece of shit town.”

It’s the truest thing he’s ever said. 

What is wrong with this place? The way they allowed Carver to rile them up with bullshit. Like they don't already live in a world where someone could drop the bomb at any moment, they had to go invent shit to be scared of. The way the cops, the fucking cops! just let Carver start a vigilante movement right in front of them. His dad always told them ‘there’s something rotten about Hawkins’, that maybe they should have moved. His parents usually end up fighting when they go down that road. But he’s already made his mind up, he's leaving this place as soon as he can.

“Is he going to be okay”

Wayne takes his time about answering, too particular, so Gareth knows it’s bad from that alone. But he’s willing to accept whatever Wayne gives him, will grab on to any ounce of hope.

“He’s strong.”

And… that’s it? That’s all he’s got for him?

Fuck.

“I should get back to him. Don’t like to be away for too long.”

Wayne stands and throws his empty cup in the trash. 

“Why don’t you come through and say hi? I think Ed would like that.”

Maybe he hesitates too long, Wayne adding “You don’t have to.”

“No. No I want to.”

Wayne gets his name added to the visitors list, and then puts his hand on Gareth's shoulder guiding him to Eddie’s room. When Officer Callaghan moves to block his way Wayne doesn’t even speak. Doesn’t say a fucking word, just stares at Callaghan until he steps out of the way and goes back to his post. It’s the most incredible thing Gareth’s ever seen.

And then he’s in Eddie’s room.

Later, he’ll ride in the car home with his mom and it will pour out of him. Eddie, their dog, their home.

But for now he’ll bite his lip and hold his friends hand.

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daugther

Chapter XII

The sun stands high as we all line up at the entrance to the vale to walk between the dragon’s formation. Garrick just gave us our instructions and so far, we are (mostly) ready to go in. But there are still some … questionable people who have to make our lives harder.

“Can I ask a question?” Luca says in front of us. Have you ever met the human version of a headache? “Oh, this is going to be good” I whisper annoyed while pinching the bridge of my nose.

Garrick nods, but the ticking of his jaw shows how annoyed he really is. Me too, buddy.

“Third Squad, Tail Section of Fourth Wing already made it through, and I talked to some of them …” “That’s not a damn question” I hiss out.

This is already nerve wrecking without her yapping … why can’t she just shut up? Garrick’s eyes find mine, amusement obvious in them before he turns back to Luca.

“It’s just … some of them said there is a feathertail.” Oh?!

“A f-feathertail?” Tynan shrieks. “Who the hell would want to bond such a thing?”

Amari, please help me survive these idiots. Rhiannon shakes her head in disappointment, but Sawyer looks intrigued. “Professor Kaori didn’t say something about a feathertail” he says. “I have every dragon memorized he showed us, and I didn’t see a feathertail.”

“Nerd” I whisper with a teasing grin. He just shoves my shoulder while smiling. “As if you don’t have everything remembered” he grins back.

“Look. Feathertails don’t bond, so relax. If there is really one, then it is probably just curious. When you are up, stay on the damn path. You don’t walk alone but in your squad. It doesn’t get any easier so whatever you do, not following the rules and instructions for example, you deserve whatever happens to you, kids.”

Well damn, thank you for that. But his “pep-talk” did the job, because everyone is finally quiet. Even Luca, who looks like she is about to shit her pants.

A woman I’ve seen a few times around steps forward and ushers us to stand in one line. I am at the very back, Ridoc in front of me. “Talk” she orders.

“Nice day for presentation” Ridoc jokes. I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, the air is nicely fresh with a lingering smell of death” He joins my snickering.

Sawyer in front of Ridoc shakes his head in disbelief.

“You two need to be studied because how the fuck can you two always be so …” he struggles to find the right word. “Unhinged” Garrick.

“Yes right. So fucking unhinged in the wrong situations?”

We look at each other, then back at our curly haired friend. We shrug. “Amari, give me patience” Garrick mutters while stepping away, shaking his head in disbelief just like Sawyer did moments prior.

“See you after the stroll” the senior wingleader says and steps to the side, revealing the dirt path leading through the vale. Let’s go into the dragon’s den.

The first dragons we pass after a few minutes are red ones, three of them. They’re incredible huge but nothing beats the black beast.

“I can’t see their tails” Tynan shouts from the front. Is he dumb? “Yeah, let’s go, scream into their faces. I am sure they’ll like that” I murmur sarcastically, loud enough for Ridoc to hear me. He snorts but doesn’t turn around.

“I need to figure out which one I am going to approach during Threshing” he shouts again. Amari, give him brain please.

“There is not a single reason why he should bond a dragon. He would get us all killed before he figures out how to get on top of one” Ridoc snaps. I try to surpass a laugh but don’t say anything against it, because he is right.

While Ridoc and Sawyer are talking about who they’d like to bond I let my gaze wander around, accidentally making eye contact with an orange one. Bowing my head, I turn away.

“What the hell?” Tynan, again. “What now fucker?” I hiss to myself.

Violet and Tynan are bickering in the front while everyone stares to the right. What-Oh.

At the end of the line is a tiny yellowish, no – golden, dragon. That must be the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen. “Maybe it’s a mistake” I hear Sawyer say. “Maybe it’s a baby orange.”

Suddenly he lunges at Tynan, grabbing his collar while he hisses something in his face.

“What the fuck is going on up there” I ask Ridoc. “I think Tynan said something to Violet about her being weak and that she should bond the little dragon. Matching her weakness.” he whispers.

Oh gods, he really has no shame.

“Someone should kill it before it bonds” Tynan chokes out, not noticing the feathertail swinging it’s head into his direction. Is it glaring at him? Cute. “Someone should kill you for being disrespectful in front of dragon’s” I hiss at him.

We get back into formation and start walking again. Aaand … Luca is complaining again. Or more like insulting the dragons. And hasn't even been five minutes. Violet and her talk about folklore and about wyvern.

“You don’t know what a wyvern is?” Rhiannon asks with a dumbfounded face. Lucas face is beet red when I catch sight of her, obviously embarrassed.

“Don`t be ashamed of yourself Luca. That`s your parents’ job” I call in her direction, making her gasp, offended. The two boys in front of me can’t hold their laughter.

We are walking near a set of reds who kind of look annoyed. Shit, time to shut up if I want to live. One of them steps a foot forward and open its mouth.

“Fuck” I curse as fire streams through the air into Rhiannon’s direction. Ridoc gasps audibly. The scent of sulfur and … death fills the air as everyone holds their breath.

‘Please don’t be Rhiannon. Please don’t be Rhiannon’ I beg quietly in my mind.

The red one steps back to his prior place and I look to the side, hoping it wasn’t- “You okay, Rhi?” Violet calls forward. “Yes, but Pryor…” she answers with a shaking voice. Thank god, it wasn’t her who got incinerated.

“Oh my god, the smell” Luca complains again which makes Violet turn around furiously. “Do you even have a sense of decency?” she spits, not noticing the two greens stepping in her direction.

“Violet” Ridoc whispers horrified. The girl immediately turns around and comes face to face with the dragons. She bows her head, and I can see her lips moving, talking to them when they start sniffing her. Oh… The armor! Teines scales! I could kiss Mira right now.

They sniff some more while Violet still talks to them and then they are retreating. Before I can ask her if she is okay, I feel something … different.

It’s like a lingering presence at the entrance of my mind. I subtly let my eyes scan over the dragons and the path but can’t notice anything different. The presence still there.

When I make eye contact with the red one from before it looks interested. A loud grumble interrupts us, and I think I see its eyes widening for a second but that could be my mind playing tricks on me.

I didn’t even notice another squad member being torched, only when we are out of the vale I notice Luca missing. Sawyer confirms my suspicions.

“She got … incinerated.”

“Thank god, finally” I breathe out in relief but snort the next second and slap my hand over my mouth as my squad members (minus Tynan) break out in loud laughter. Garrick looks at me in disbelief, again.

I shrug. What a day.

[marshmellowrio]

Semblance of Control | Chapter 3

Word count: 1.5K

Semblance of control Masterlist

After the cadets receive their standard uniforms, they’re shown to the dormitory’s and left to their own devices. Colette makes sure to grab one of the beds near the wall, with 155 other cadets on the same floor, it will give her a sense of security, maybe a false one. No, she wouldn’t put it past any of the other cadets to murder her in her sleep, but this way she would have one less side to protect in case of an attack.

She sees Violet and Rhiannon coming in to claim the beds on her right, right next to each other. She quickly puts all of her stuff away and walks up to the two of them, still talking quietly while dumping their bags.

“Violet and Rhiannon, right?” Colette hoped she had paid enough attention to Nyra when she called out Rhiannon’s name and that she wasn’t saying the wrong name to the dark woman.

Rhiannon looks her up and down. “Who’s asking?”

“Someone who wants an ally or two, and you guys are in my squad, so…” Colette trails off, not really having any other reasoning. The two woman across from her look at each other with distrust written on their faces. “My name is Colette, Colette Wilder.” She tries to meet them halfway. “And I want to help you,” she nods at Violet, “learn to protect yourself.”

“What makes you think I can’t protect myself?” Violet retorts. Fair question.

“You probably have a trick or two up your sleeve, you’re a Sorrengail after all, but I’m certain it can’t hurt to learn a few more. Especially if you have to go up against someone like, let’s say… our wingleader?” Colette answers.

Violet’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, but Colette’s already talking again. “Oh come on, the Marked Ones already have it out for you and even a fool knows that a Sorrengail and a Riorson is a bad combination.” She makes sure to keep her voice slightly hushed as she says this, keeping half an eye on the people around them, making sure no one’s listening in on their conversation.

Violet ponders for a moment while Rhiannon narrows her eyes at Colette. “What’s in it for you?”

Colette breathes out a little laugh, “ You’re smart.” She purses her lips and nods. “As I said, I need allies in this death trap.” She shrugs and continues, “ I also don’t like people holding children accountable for the actions of their parents.”

Rhiannon gives her a small nod, “Doesn’t mean I trust you, though.”

Colette looks down at her feet with a small smile playing on her lips, “Good,” she catches Rhiannon’s eyes with her own, “I wouldn’t trust me either.” She sees Violet frown in the corner of her eye and turns to her. “I wouldn’t-,” Colette stops for half a second, “I don’t trust anyone here, you shouldn’t either. Keep her close.” She nods to Rhiannon while speaking to Violet. She walks off to get ready for bed, leaving the other two to ponder over her proposal to be an ally.

★・・・・・・★

After Captain Fitzgibbons, another name Colette learned yesterday, reads through all of the names on the death roll, Squad leader Aetos takes over, “Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you’re not going to get another chance before lunch.”

Colette is positioned in the back row again, she sees the two women she approached yesterday whispering to each other but keeps her attention on her Squad leader.

“Second- and third-years, I’m assuming you know where to go,” he continues. He receives some non-committal noises of agreement from the front rows. “First-years, at least one of you should have memorized your academic schedule when it was handed out yesterday.” It’s a statement, one Colette can agree with, it’s the first thing she did when she woke up this morning. “Stick together. I expect you all to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.”

“And if we’re not?” Colette snaps her head to the first-year next to her and rolls her eyes at the question, before focusing on Aetos again.

“Then I won’t have to be concerned with learning your name, since it will be read off tomorrow morning,” their Squad leader answers with a shrug. “Sawyer?” He looks at a first-year next to Violet.

“I’ll get them there.” He’s tall, Colette notes, as he nods tightly at Aetos.

Dain orders us to get a move on and the whole squad breaks up, similar to the other ones around them.

“We have about twenty minutes to get to class,” Sawyer shouts at the nine first-years left before him. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don’t be late.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and heads toward the dormitory.

Colette hears Rhiannon say, “That has to be hard.” She catches up to her and Violet, following the crowd toward the dorms. “Being set back and having to do this all over again.” Colette receives a smile from the two as she reaches them, seems like they’re warming up to her already.

“Better than being dead,” the smart-ass from next to her says as he passes the three of them.

“That’s true,” Violet replies as they head into the bottleneck in front of the door. Colette makes sure to stay on the outsides of it.

“I overheard a third-year say when a first-year survives Treshing unbonded, the quadrant lets them repeat the year and try again if they want,” Rhiannon adds. Colette cringes at the thought of completing her first year twice.

A bird whistle sounds from the left and Violet stalls, fixing her eyes on the door to the rotunda as it sounds again. Colette and Rhiannon follow her line of sight as she says, “I’ll be-”.

“We’ll grab your stuff and meet you there. It’s under your bunk, right?” Rhiannon asks before she can finish.

“You don’t mind?”

“Your bunk is next to ours, Violet. It’s not a hassle. Go!” She bumps her shoulder with Violet’s.

Violet is off with a thank you as Rhiannon turns to Colette and they share a conspiratorial smile.

“So, I’m assuming Violet knows our Squad leader?”

“You would be correct.” Rhiannon answers with a little laugh.

The two women make their way to their bunks along with the rest of the first-years on their floor. Rhiannon looks back and forth from Colette and the path in front of her. “So, why didn’t you cut your hair.” She tries to start a conversation to make it less uncomfortable.

Colette brings a hand up to her tight, low bun, brushing away the stray hairs that aren’t there. “It’s not that long, but I actually wasn’t aware of the fact that women cut their hair to join the rider’s quadrant.” She smiles awkwardly as they reach the bunks. “I mean, I’ve never had any problems with it while sparring so why would I?”

Rhiannon nods in understanding, grabbing her stuff and Violet’s. “I’ve always had mine this short or even shorter so I wouldn’t know what’s it’s like fighting with longer hair.”

“Maybe I’ll think about cutting it if it causes me to lose my matches, otherwise it’s not happening.” Colette laughs softly and Rhiannon joins in as they head back towards the academic wing.

The two of them keep chatting on their way to the doors to the rotunda and start to warm up to each other in the meantime. They step inside the rotunda and Colette’s breath catches. “Wow.”

Rhiannon stops a few steps ahead, feeling Colette lagging behind. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She looks at Rhiannon, “You go ahead, I want to take this all in for a second.” Rhiannon nods slowly and continues on towards the academic wing.

Colette turns back to the six marble statues of the dragons, not having passed through the main rotunda yet. Her breath got taken away by the dragons instantly, she marvelled at the sight of them. Wandering closer to the black statue, she cranes her neck to look at it more properly.

The light filtering through from the glass dome, glitters on the black marble.

“I already knew you’re parents are tight,” Colette hears a voice call out from up above. She shifts her gaze a bit to find Riorson standing on the balcony, staring down. “But do you two have to be so fucking obvious?”

Colette frowns at his words and follows his line of sight, down to the middle of the rotunda where Violet stands with Squad leader Aetos at her back.

“I expected you to do a better job of hiding where your affections lie, Aetos.” Riorson starts walking down the steps. As he does, Colette starts walking to the space between them. His eyes brighten when they find hers, watching him closely. Monitoring him as he moves closer to Violet.

His focus shifts to Violet again as she bolts for the doors to the academic wing. Colette startles at the sudden movement, she casts one more glance in her wingleader’s direction before following after her… ally?

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments! There is a taglist for those interested in joining, leave a comment below and I'll add you for the next chapter.

Chapter 4 click here.

Taglist: @siobhanbooks @bada-lee-ily

[tani-b-art]

“This ain’t a Country album. This is a “Beyoncé” album.”

I understand why she said this! Because the way it seems she created a completely new genre with ‘Cowboy Carter’! The Country is there (and all the elements) and there’s some Blues, Folk, Soul, Zydeco, Bluegrass, a lil Rock, Gospel and Opera and then some (all genres with Black (Black) American origins). Almost like she opened a new sonic portal while helping to reclaim the genre made by Black Americans.

First off — the album cover art. She pays homage to a long-standing Black American Southern tradition of Houston rodeo and rodeo queens. Carrying our country’s flag…the imagery is signifying to her being a Black American woman. Who she is.

The album cover alone set the tone for what she presented with act ii. [and the photographer is Blair Caldwell, a fellow Black Texan, who has such an eye for capturing beauty. all his photographs are visually pleasing].

[Even the promo - the track list design is a nod & historical reference to Black American culture via The Chitlin Circuit promotional posters. I love it. Made my little graphic art heart smile. The nostalgia of it.]

From the opening track title and lyrics and later on within other songs, she wove her ancestral claiming to America with so much pride. Pride for our country and our flag that we absolutely should have.

Then to have Ms. Linda Martell, the trailblazing Black pioneer & legend in the genre who broke many barriers, be a part of this album was so reverent. (Especially her spoken word throughout that spoke to the way that she and Beyoncé have had to navigate this music industry. When their presence wasn’t well-received, in the very genre we created, they set out to move in a “non-traditional” way). They themselves are the embodiment of unconventional. Ms. Martell rightfully receiving her flowers at the golden age of 82 is harmonious!

Every part of act ii has made people research and discover. The same way act i did. Gotta love a good educational experience through music. (btw—the mention of Zydeco had me hyped).

Having Rhiannon Giddens on instrumentation (along with other background Black musicians and I’m sure Black vocalists) and sharing this musical journey with Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy, Reyna Roberts, Willie Jones and Shaboozey — other young Black women and Black men in the genre…all of this Black fellowship made me so happy.

Just sooo much honoring throughout it all. Lots of love poured into it.

Everything is resonate. Connecting. With purpose.

Her voice, her musicality, the note choices, the lyrics, the song titles and the spelling of them, the arrangements.

It’s fun and beautiful.

It sounds amazing.

A beautiful tribute to her roots.

Bravo Beyoncé!

[ceedaryaps]

Iron flame yap seshh: Characters

Hiyyaaaaahhhhhhhh I don't have much of an intro this time so were going straight into it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet & Zaden: If I thought they annoyed me before OHH BROTHERR. The lack of communication between these two is astounding. "Why didn't you tell me." "You didn't ask" "I DID ask." "Well, you didn't ask the right questions." ..................dpmo. I love them but they're so annoying I'm sorry and then when Violent found out ole girl has the same fighting style bc Zaden trained her too!!?? Violet wasn't mad enough for me. Then after he heard that girl tell Violet that Zaden only wanted her for sex what does he do? Try to have sex with Violet. IDk Violet is a much better woman than me I would have killed him. I do love that Violet clocked him and was like "You're acting like Dain." CLOCK HIM AGAIN. The Zaden being vennin at the end ugh what is even going awnnnnnn. In my opinion Violet should have been a lot meaner and Zaden.....for god's sake, I'm tired of the angsty man act can't lie. (Kudos to Violet for withstanding torture and knowing not to drink that shit the second time around THATS MY GIRL)

Rhiannon: Opinion hasn't changed. Queen.

Dain: This is not a complete redemption bc I still don't like the fact that he's still "Are you SURE you want him Violet." But I enjoy that he grew a brain and sided with the right folks. Like busting her out of there? I won't call him king but he at least gets Squire status.

Aaric Graycastle: "Keep ur fucking boyfriend away from me." Oh yeah, I fuck with him. Is someone not a suck-up to Zaden and not afraid to actually try to go at him? I sense a new fav.

Andarna: Princess Andarna wants blood and blood she will get, I kinda expected her to be different in some way so her scales changing was not a huge surprise but it was nice. Also despite the rules the dragons have in place she absolutely bodied that other dragon for Violet and ugh I love Andarna so much yall don't understand.

Tairn & Sgayel: I'm putting these two together bc man that scene where Tairn finds out that not only Zaden kept something from Violet but more importantly Sgayel kept something from Tairn!!!???? Gods I love these two as mates but that scene hurts my feelings. Also Dad!Tairn constantly being like "Andarna no." is my new fav thing.

Momma Sorrengail: Yanno.......I dont think I dislike her as much as I did, especially because she ended up helping but like...idk. I think id be like Brennan and just be like "Eh fuck you kinda?" like idk how to truly feel about her after iron flame. Its a complicated I don't like her but thanks we couldn't have done it without her? Pulled through for her kids ig so go momma Sorrengail.

Jack Barlowe: WHAT.THE.FUCK what. WHAT. First off, how are you alive, second why are you alive, third SAVED VIOLET?, fourth VENIN? fith KILLING BAIDE?! Someone kill him for good ZADEN DO UR THING like double tap make sure he STAYS down.

Brennan: no overwhelming feelings tbh. I understand his attitude towards Lilith tho def deserved it.

Catronia: I dont like her, Violet should have beat her ass WORSE. And like yeah mind powers are invasive but amplifying someone's EMOTIONS?! Yeah she sucks. And being mad at Violet bc of a fuck ass crown girl get REAL. Showing up in a see-through gown at Zaden's door? You dirty skank bitch she better be next on the off list especially her sparring match with Violet. IDGAF if she helped later fuck Cat.

Ridoc: "The map is under my mattress." King. So in love with him. Can we stop giving him near-death experiences pls ill cry.

Sawyer:....... don't do this to me man he better be okay.

Jesina: Queen pulled through for the translations a smart baddie queen love that for her tbh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay yall that's all I got for now, it was gonna be posted earlier but I went through a breakup and college got busyyyy hopefully I can give my thoughts on the actual plot of Iron flame soon!

[mrsjoeythehurler]

When I Met You

(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)

All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

Content warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be in When I Met You. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ Aurora Sallow ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

When Liam and I arrive at the gym, we open the doors to find the floor covered in mats. The gym is a large room with three walls on each side, and the fourth wall is open so you can see the scenery around Basgiath. It would be a wonderful view if not for the various cadets punching each other in my peripheral vision.

I turn back towards Liam. "Thank you for walking with me."

Thank you for walking with me? Am I okay?

With a chuckle and the smile that makes me weak, Liam replies, "It's been my pleasure."

I can feel the blush taking over my face. "Well, I should go find my squad."

Liam clears his throat. "Yeah. Me too."

After another second of staring at each other, we part ways to our respective squads.

Walking through the gym, I spot Violet, Rhiannon, and Sawyer standing off to the side of one of the mats and make my way over.

On the mat, Ridoc and Aurelie are sparring. Aurelie is winning.

"Hey," I say, sidling up next to Violet.

"Hey!" Violet and Rhiannon exclaim.

"You're face is red." Sawyer suddenly says. "Are you feeling okay?"

I laugh, but it sounds awkward. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just overheated. What temperature do they keep this gym?"

I stop before I keep rambling and decide to look around the gym.

Big mistake.

My eyes immediately find Liam. He is on the mat, sparring another first year, and he's shirtless.

I stare wide-eyed. To say Liam looks good is an understatement. I'm convinced he was sculpted by the gods. From the moment I saw him, he was the most handsome man I've ever seen, but words will never do him justice. He's literal perfection.

Like he feels my stare, his head turns in my direction, and our eyes lock. It's like a click.

And when he sees me looking, his lips lift in a smirk. He holds my gaze for a moment more before focusing on his opponent again and punching him in the side, taking him down on the mat.

When I realize I'm still staring, I quickly turn back around to face where Ridoc and Aurelie are still sparring.

"Oh my god!" Sawyer exclaims, bringing my attention back to him to see he's frowning at my face. "It's worse now. Do you want me to take you to the healers?"

"Shit!" Ridoc yells, and our attention swings back towards the mat. "I don't want to hurt you." He's saying to Aurelie.

She's holding her ribs but looks up at him defiantly. "Who says you're hurting me?"

"Pulling your punches does her a disservice," Dain says from my left, making me jump a little.

Gods, I forgot he was here. Does this guy just appear out of thin air?

"The Cygnis on the northeast border aren't going to give her any quarter because she's a woman if she falls from her dragon behind enemy lines, Ridoc." Dain goes on. "They'll kill her just the same."

Aurelie and Ridoc continue sparring, and at one point, she lands a punch to the side of his face that makes me flinch.

"Enough!" Professor Emetterio shouts.

They both stop, Aurelie is named the winner, and Ridoc takes the hand she offers him and rises to his feet.

"I'll make you a deal." Rhi suddenly says to Violet and me, "Let's help each other out. We'll help you with hand-to-hand, "she says, gesturing between herself and Sawyer, "if you help us with history."

"Absolutely," Violet says.

I nod. "Sounds good."

Suddenly, someone shrieks a couple of mats down, and all of us swing our heads towards the sound. Jack Barlowe has another first year in a headlock, and he's not going easy on him. When the sound of a crack fills the gym and the first year in Jack's hold falls limp, I feel like I can't breathe.

"Sweet Malek," Violet whispers.

I feel sick. I can't move.

"What did I say?" Their instructor shouts. "You broke his damned neck!"

"How was I supposed to know his neck was that weak?" Jack argues.

"Eyes forward," Emetterio orders, but his tone is kinder. You don't have to get used to it, " he tells us. But you do have to function through it. You and you," he points to Rhiannon, and a first year I've never met. It's your turn."

After Rhiannon wins against Tynan—that was the first year's name—Violet is called up against a second year, marked one named Imogen. And she does not take it easy on Violet.

It takes every ounce of strength for me to stay where I am and not help Violet. It's a one-on-one situation. I'm not allowed to help, and that makes me feel uneasy. I can't do anything but stand on the sidelines while my friend is being hurt, and my anxiety comes back into full force.

Dain is livid beside me. "Yield, Violet!" He yells.

"Yield!" Imogen demands Violet while sitting on her back and pulling her arms further apart.

I can't take it anymore. I don't care that it's not allowed. I'm not letting this pink-haired freak hurt my friend. This is wrong. This whole thing is wrong.

I'm about to step onto the mat to grab Imogen and push her off of Violet when Emetterio yells, "She yields. That's enough."

I hear a snap of bone, and when I realize it's coming from Violet, I lunge.

As Dain takes Violet away, I push Imogen as hard as possible. She stumbles but doesn't fall. "Are you kidding me?" I shout at her. "What the hell was that?"

She looks pissed, but I don't give a shit. She just nearly killed my friend.

She looks me up and down with a bored expression. "Who are you?"

"Aurora Sallow." I snap. "But that doesn't matter right now, what matters is the fact that you just almost killed my friend."

A corner of her lip lifts like she finds this funny, and I suddenly want to punch her in the face.

I am not a violent person. I never have been, but when people hurt those I love, I will never stand there and do nothing about it.

"You think this is funny?" I say. "You are twice her size, pummeling her to the mat. Nothing about what just happened is funny. Nothing about what just happened was fair."

Then she really does laugh, and it grates on my nerves. "Nothing about this entire college is fair. It's not my fault some people are more equipped than others to handle this quadrant. Unfortunately for your friend, she didn't make the cut."

She then stalks off and walks towards the exit.

That's when I realized we had an audience.

Xaden is looking at me with narrowed eyes, but that's nothing new. That just seems to be his face. The tall guy behind him is glaring at me. He kind of looks like he wants to kill me, and I feel the adrenaline wear off and my anxiety come back. Then, there's Ridoc and Sawyer. Both staring at me wide-eyed, the former giving me a thumbs up, and then there's Rhiannon, looking between Imogen and me with a hint of fear. Lastly, my eyes find Liam. He's standing off to the side of the mat, still looking as beautiful as ever. His eyes gaze intently into mine, and his lips lift a little like he's trying to contain a smile.

Oh gods. This is bad. Why did I do that? And everyone was watching. What was I thinking?

"Miss Sallow." I hear Emetterio say from behind me. "You're dismissed."

I glance back towards Xaden and his friend and then make my way towards the exit.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

I've decided to stay in my dorm for the rest of the night. If I could stay holed up here for the rest of my life after today's events, I would, but I know that's impossible.

The sun has gone down, and dusk has appeared. The beautiful pink and blue hue in the sky makes me smile a little.

When the door opens and Violet appears, Rhi and I jump off our beds and rush over to her.

"You're here!" Rhiannon says

"I'm here," Violet says. "I'm already down one shirt, but I'm here."

"I'm so glad you're okay," I say. "I was really worried."

"Yeah," Rhi agrees. "Aurora even went after Imogen on your behalf."

With wide eyes, Violet turns towards me. "What?" She yells. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine."

She pulls me into a hug. "You didn't have to do that. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I say. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Violet gives me a small smile and moves towards her bed. When she sits down, she winces.

"How bad is it?" Rhi asks?

"It's going to hurt for the next few days, but I'll be fine as long as I keep it immobilized. I'll be all healed up before we start on-mat challenges."

"I'll help you guys get ready," Rhiannon says, looking at Violet and me. You're the only friends I have in here, so I'd rather you both didn't die when it gets real."

"We'll try our best not to," Violet says with a grin while lying down.

"And we'll help you and Sawyer with history," I say, walking towards the window.

"We'll be unstoppable." Rhiannon declares.

I smile but keep my gaze on the night sky.

"What is it?" Rhiannon says suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Looking back at both of them, I see Violet holding a letter in her hands. I thought we weren't allowed to receive letters yet.

"It's my brother's," Violet says, tearing up. "The book of Brennan. It's just his journal. He died five years ago."

I give her a sad smile. "I remember. I'm so sorry."

Brennan Sorrengail was Violet's older brother. He was a dragon rider and a good one, too. During the battle of Aretia, Brennan was killed by Fen Riorson, Xaden Riorson's father.

"We don't always burn everything, either," Rhi whispers. Sometimes, it's nice to have something, you know?"

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Later, when Rhiannon is asleep and Violet is still reading Brennan's book, I silently move towards the window again to look at the night sky, just like I did back home every night. I see the same two dragons fly in front of the moon like I have many times.

"Hey," I whisper, looking at Violet.

She closes the book and looks over, "Yeah?"

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

[gingersnaptaff]

Me again! Bringing in some hot gossip about the Welsh Laws of Women. (By which I mean from the laws of Hywel Dda.)

No. No! Don't run away, it's good shit, I promise!

So, the legal majority for a girl was twelve. This is different to a boy. Under Welsh law, they didn't become men until they were 14, and, if they were high-ranking, were fostered out to other nobles, whereas girls were kept at home, hence the 'father's platter.' What's interesting to me is that after she became a woman she was entitled to hold her own property as an unmarried woman and 'go wherever she pleased.'

I realise I am saying that verbatim to what I've highlighted but like think about it!!!! She wasn't bound to her family - except in marriage but I'll get into that - and she legally had the right to go bye byes! Her father didn't rule her life, basically. She's a free spirit.

NOW, the right to land is pretty tricky, on account of different parts of Wales having different customs. You gotta remember that Wales was NEVER really united* under one big fish until AFTER the Normanic Conquest, and even then that took some fuckin doing.

(*Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, Owain Gwynedd, and Llywelyn Fawr are exceptions. That's the House of Aberffraw, bb!)

So, in South Wales, it seems more prevalent to give land to a lady's descendants when there were no men to take up the land. This is far better than in North Wales (and may I just say as a North Walian *clears throat* WHAT THE FUCK?) where basically Salic Law applied which is basically where u gotta give it to a male descendent. Female lineal descendants were excluded. Boo!!!

BUT!!! However, matrilineal bloodlines should not be discounted. Royal women still had claims to the throne that could be used by their descendants to press their claim. Owain Glyndŵr did this. I suspect if u were related to a Welsh lady you could try and do it but, pls, don't use this tumblr post to try and convince the jury. It's on you, bud.

MAWWIAGE. IT'S WHAT BWINGS US TOGETHER.

Now, there are two forms of marriage. Your normal one where your parents pick for you or at the very least gift u to your husbando like in Culhwch and Olwen, and the one where you can ELOPE. Because Welsh law didn't see marriage as a religious thing the sanctity of marriage wasn't in question so, therefore, you could have a little fun and y'know nyoom after your chosen beau. (Gwenllian ferch Gruffudd ap Cynan did this. She's ace.)

The Mabinogi gives us a lot of good shit about the gift of kin stuff. Branwen gets gifted to Matholwch by Bendigeidfran, all fine and dandy. BUT Welsh law states that your relatives - mam, dad, grandads, grandmum's, great-grandad's and grrat-grandmum's - needed to take counsel cuz y'know it's a big fuckin thing, giving somebody in marriage. So, that's why Efnisien is so upset because he wasn't given a say. He thinks he is legally entitled to do so. However, he's only her half-brother so not full-blooded. Therefore, he's unable to have a say because he isn't fully related to her.

(A lot of Welsh law is prevaricated on kin ties.)

Also for all u Rhiannon lovers out there - like me - the Welsh law was on her side when she fought to free herself from Gwawl ap Clud. (Although the badger-in-a-sack game was a bit much.) Welsh law forbade a woman from being married against her will. Yeah, your family could try and capture you and bring you back but like if you'd bonked the lad you could stay. You'd made your choice. Nobody can take that away from you. All that was needed in a personal bestowal was continued cohabitation. *clicks teeth, finger guns.*

Also, there are marriage laws too, but I don't want to clutter up the feed too much, or overly ramble. Suffice to say there's some fun ones!

[rhiannonsknife]

every time i see a blog that writes for rhiannon i jump for joy

i've been thinking a lot about absolute loser girlfailure rhiannon... especially if you're her coworker and she's trying everything to get you to notice her. she starts bringing little notes wishing you a good day with your morning coffee and complimenting your haircut and each and every time you reciprocate her affection (even something as small as saying you like her outfit) she's giggling like a schoolgirl and her face is beet red. i just kind of need me a little loser lesbian and rhiannon is so little loser lesbian to me

exactly!! exactly!! as a loser lesbian myself, i could not agree more! loser girlfailure rhiannon you are so very dear to me!!

you’re new at the gazette, but you fit into the work environment so effortlessly it would piss her off if she wasn’t so down bad for you.

usually, the only thing that distracts her from her boring everyday life is, well, killing people. you quickly become the only exception though: seeing you first thing in the morning is almost as thrilling as stabbing someone, rhiannon finds. could she just approach you and talk to you? technically, yes. and is she going to do that? absolutely fucking not.

for someone who can take a life without batting an eye, rhiannon is so insanely awkward when it comes to you, it’s pathetic.

every tiniest bit of your attention has her heart fluttering in her chest and a stupid grin forming on her lips. you’re praising (and by that i mean briefly complimenting) her work? she’s a nervous, giddy wreck for the rest of the day. you walk past her desk, smiling in greeting? she’s fucking melting. it’s like she’s only there for those little encounters.

rhiannon knows you’re kind to all of your coworkers, and yet she still tells herself this is different -that your lingering attention on her specifically is something you do on purpose.

rhiannon, who stalks finds your socials, learns how you take your coffee and your favorite breakfast, then brings them to you every morning, claiming that these are her personal favorites too and brushing it off as a coincidence if you do ask about it!!

most of the time, she just leaves them on your desk and quickly rushes off to avoid getting caught. you do know it’s her, of course: rhiannon is the only one who constantly compliments you for the most insignificant things in passing, and whose eyes you can feel on you more often than not without her ever approaching you.

but two can play this game and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the pretty, if just slightly awkward woman by the receptionist’s desk. confident that she is interested in you too, you start doing the same for her: telling her that you like her outfit just to watch her turn red and giggle when she thinks you’re no longer looking. buying her coffee during your lunch break and watching her puzzled expression when she finds it waiting for her because she’s not used to this kind of attention herself…

rhiannon who spends her shifts googling stupid shit like “how to make a move on your crush” or “10 best pickup lines” or “would my coworker think it is inappropriate to ask them out on a date?” and panics when you walk over to her as she’s actively…researching. she’d try to close the tabs before you can see but fails miserably. there’s no way you haven’t seen it. god she’s pathetic, you love it <33

[lottiesnotebook]

DADWC prompt, Janders, maybe solstice!au? ❝  i was sort’ve hoping you needed me.  is that selfish?  ❞

Anything for my darling wife. <3 Technically in the same universe as Merry Solstice (Please Don't Call), but should stand alone in its own right...

Justice/Anders, Hawke/Anders (mentioned), modern AU, human!Justice, pining

@dadrunkwriting

need you to need me

Anders is hovering in the doorway to the spare room that Rhiannon has conscientiously set up for him to spend the night in. It was clearly, until recently, inhabited by someone else - the walls are lined with bright, loud band posters, and bookshelves covered in fantasy novels with covers that run the gamut from pastel greens and pinks to lurid scarlets and blacks. He wonders if this was once Rhiannon's own room, if the narrow single bed used to be hers. The sheets are crisp linen, scentless - another small kindness that, in this moment, he does not feel he deserves, because all he can look at is her fiance in the doorway, his slender frame gilded by the light in the hallway, the way his hands - long, elegant fingers - curl tentatively around the doorframe.

"Is the room alright?" he says, solicitous, almost tender. "I know it's not home, but- I know you wouldn't want to go home, after the break-in."

He is correct, that is the real torment. Justice can barely tolerate invited guests within the small, spartan house he calls his own - it is like inviting them to examine his very soul, and he has always known that there is something within him that will be found wanting. It is far worse to imagine the eyes, the hands of strangers on his possessions, meagre as they are. He does not want to return there yet, to trace over the raw wound of what has been moved, what has been taken, what he is left with in a house that no longer feels like his own.

"The room is comfortable," he assures Anders, as calmly as he can manage. He is glad, selfishly, that the younger man is no closer - he does not want Anders to see how he trembles, how he fears. He does not want Anders to reach out to touch him, to comfort him, because if he did- if he did, Justice would lose the last scrap of his self control, would destroy this fragile, precious thing they have built, destroy this fragile, precious boy. "Your- Rhiannon did well, to make it so comfortable, so quickly. She is a generous and considerate woman."

And Justice is sat in her house, in the bed she has made up for him, looking at her fiance with a lust that would be indecent even were he not engaged, even were there not a thousand thousand reasons why this woud be a terrible idea, even were Anders foolish or blind to his own worth enough to want him back, old and broken as he is-

"She's good like that," Anders agrees, "She takes good care of me, after all - almost as good as you." The last is teasing, said with his usual crooked smile, his edge of flirtation that always creeps out when he's nervous or deflecting. Justice should not encourage it. Justice cannot live without it.

"It is my responsibility," Justice reminds him, reminds them both. "I am your sponsor, after all."

"And my friend," Anders replies, and this time, Justice does not argue, does not attempt to resist. He has no right to draw such a line, not when, once he found his front door hanging open, this was the only place he could think to come.

His lack of response must be taken as acquiesence - Anders crosses the room in five quick paces, settles on the bed beside him, their sides pressed together, the heat of him burning through the thin cotton of his t-shirt and Justice's own button-down. It is unbearable. It is everything.

"You're always there when I need you," Anders says, and his voice is soft, confiding. "I was sort've hoping that you needed me. Is that selfish?" Justice wants to swallow his words down, wants turn his head and to cover his mouth and steal the breath from his lungs, wants to show him how desperately he is needed now-

He wants to be selfish, he realises, and no good can come of that.

"You were here tonight," he says, and hopes it is enough. "You let me in, made me welcome-"

"Rhian let you in," Anders corrects, and that brings him back to himself with a shock, reminds him that despite his weakness, despite the warmth, despite the thousand justifications he could construct to give into temptation, there is one immovable reason to resist, and her name is Rhiannon Hawke.

"She made you tea. She made your bed. You let her help you." There is something so soft, so plaintive in his voice, as if he does not understand why he is refused this singular request. "Would it be so terrible to let me in?"

It would be the worst thing Justice could do. That does not make him want to any less.

"I- I am sorry," he says, and it is not really an apology for tonight, but for a thousand other nights, when he's lain alone and imagined Anders pressed against him like this, imagined turning his head to the side, imagined all the things he could do to this beautiful, malleable boy- "I am- exhausted, I think. I do not know what to say, beyond- thank you."

Anders tries not to let his disappointment show. "Want me to let you rest?"

"Please." He cuts himself off before it can become please, stay. Please, let me kiss you. Please, be mine.

The door shuts between them, and he can finally breathe again. He's never wanted it less.