#I MISSED YOU SO MUH

[jeonjungkoos]

D-DAY (1)

[gavv-hannah]

(If I'm not misreading things) thank you for tonocest 🙏🙏🙏🙏 we need more freaks liking them fr

you aren't dw! and absolutely no problem!! whatever the fuck they have going on.. it's a hole made for meeeee T_T)💕 (also happy to know im not the only freak out here who likes the bros that way huhuuuu) pls have another one 🙂‍↕️ it's on the house

[endiness]

tbh i didn't send any feedback about the new dashboard but fucking with avs? that's the last fucking straw!!! i just absolutely despise how this site seems more and more intent on completely removing, or at least diminishing, every customizable aspect of it and becoming just like every other social media site out there that i barely interact with because i also despise the lack of customization and complete lack of personality and personability those sites have, too. (not to mention, like, kill the algorithm and complete lack of a true chronological timeline with fire.)

[vaeylahh]

𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖? 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖.

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𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐘 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

Tw:: Slight mention of murder, smut, no plot porn, slight degradation (Reader insulting Toby Lol), soft!dom Toby, Power!sub reader, creampie, raw sex, use of weed, high Toby, cussing at every paragraph. (cuz the writer is immature)

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗜 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦.

If i missed out any warnings please tell me..

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It was a quiet night, living off by yourself and paying for your own tuition for college like every usual day because you insisted on being “independent”. That really fucked you up to the core. Your dark undereye and pale lips were the evidence of those sleepless nights. You've sometimes regretted the foolish decision you made but then again, it was better than living off with your family who gives you zero to no privacy at all.

You were in the kitchen-living room downing down the 6th cup of coffee for the day. Your eyes lazily trailing off through the darkness and the pure silence of this depressing environment. You're not ready to end the day yet, you needed to do some jack shit project that had nothing to do with your course at all and it was driving you insane.

After finishing off your coffee, you simply placed the mug onto the sink ready to go back to whatever work you're doing on your computer but then you jolted back in surprise when you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you from your couch. A soft groan escaped your lips when you realized who it was.

Relaxing your tensed up shoulder, you made your way to the couch and just as you predicted, there was Toby, lazily slouching and man spreading on your couch like he owned the place. You didn't even realize he was in here, you wanted to ask when and how he got here unnoticed but something caught your attention. His eyes, tho it was dark, you couldn't mistake it to be slightly reddish meaning he was probably, currently high right now, smoked weed with his little killer friends too. You crossed your arms as you watched the man giggle at your pissed off expression.

Have i mentioned that Toby, an infamous serial killer around your neighborhood happened to be a friend-ish? If that's what you want to describe to him as. He's tried to kill you before, turns out you were the wrong target, tried to kill you either way to keep his identity a secret but you managed to convince him somehow to keep you alive. He had other plans, to put you in 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘂𝘀𝗲 for.

"Hey..i-i hope you don't mind me dropping by.." he spoke in a breathy tone with a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips. He moved closer to the arm chair, tugging at your arm with his gloved hands to pull you down with him on the couch. His neck twitched once as he did. "Come on..you know yo-you want muh-me here, what's with the frown?.."

You narrowed your eyes down at him and followed suit to his advances. Tho you're pissed–why wouldn't you? It's not everyday somebody clings to you so desperately like this. "Have you been smoking weed? Fuck you stink.."

He ignored your insult and nuzzled his face against your neck, pushing you down on the couch, making you accidentally hit your head on the armrest. You hissed and lifted your head up in annoyance. "Sorry.." He murmured against your neck, lightly rubbing the spot where you hit your head as if he could magically make the pain go away. As if this man knows what pain felt like.

You gritted your teeth in annoyance, narrowing your eyes at him but let go of it soon enough as he cuddled up to you. The man 𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗞𝗦 with sweat, blood and dirt. Sometimes you don't even understand how your gut was strong enough to withstand this stinky man. "I-i missed you Y/N..rea-..really i did.." Toby whispered against your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.

"I don't, damn it. When was the last time you showered?" You spoke harshly thinking he was just gonna cuddle up to you like any other day but that thought was soon scrapped when he pushed your legs apart–quite literally smacking it. He ground his hips against yours lightly, whimpering at your ears like the submissive fuck he was. "Y/N..cuh-can i touch you?.." He whispered softly, his hot breath tickling your neck as he spoke.

Your mind short-circuited at his advances, it took you a good minute to realize what was happening and what he was implying. You laid there staring up at the ceiling with your mouth open trying to think of something to say. It didn't make any sense that you're freaking out now, It's not like this was your first time having him act like a horny teenager around you, this man had his whole adolescence robbed from him by his shitty father–but then again it caught you off guard.

"Well yeah but-.." before you could even finish your sentence, he was already straddling your hips while undoing the belt of his jeans with shaky hands. "Take..take-..this off..please" He spoke in a shaky, breathy voice, tugging at your shorts before going back to his own pants. "You're so pathetic sometimes you know?.." The words left your mouth without you even realizing it.

He whined at your insult, yet you could quite literally see the desperation in his eyes. His cheeks getting reader and he was getting sweatier than usual. You complied to his request or more like his demand, tugging your shorts down along with your underwear. He lifted his hips up a bit so you could pull it down further. "Yes..yes..juh-just like that.." his head twitching to the side from excitement as he stared at your folds.

He unzipped his pants, palming himself two to three times through his boxers before pulling out his half-hard shaft out. He held your hips with one hand, the other stroking his member to life as he focused at the way your body looked underneath him. His mind racing with the intense adrenaline of his previous mission and the person laying beneath him which was 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

You watched thoroughly as he stroked himself, muttering curses underneath his breath as he held you in position with his rough, gloved hand. He's already leaking pre-cum down to your lower stomach, The sight made you shiver throughout your whole body, all the way down to your slick folds.

With half-lidded eyes, he laid flat ontop of you again, nuzzling his face against your neck. His hand squishing between you two as he guided his shaft down at your wet folds. Slowly he sunk into your tight, gummy walls, making him whimper.

He placed one arm over your head while his free hand held your hips tightly, his nails digging onto your flesh enough to bruise.He lazily moved his hips, thrusting in and out of you slowly at first. "Oh shit...you-.. you're so good, so..th-tight.." he moaned against your ear before lightly biting down at your neck. he quickened his pace with each thrust, unable to hold back from the pent up frustration he's stored upon himself.

His weight, alongside the feeling of him biting down on your neck made you feel light headed. You close your eyes tightly, focusing on the perfect rhythm of his hips thrusting against yours. It makes your legs shaky but in a desperate attempt to keep him close, you wrapped your legs around him. The couch creaking beneath you as he went faster. "Jesus Christ.. Toby..slow down-" Your moans more noticeable than before from his roughness.

"Oh fuck-..FUCK! Ah-..mhm.. I'm gonna-.." Toby moaned louder along with you as he chased his orgasm. He felt a familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, his cock twitching with needs and with the last couple of thrusts, he was spilling himself deep inside you. He stayed inside of you, making sure his cum was buried deep within.

You held him tightly against your chest until the pleasure subsided, eyebrows furrowed and beads of sweat forming around your forehead. Slowly you opened your eyes again, adjusting to the darkness of the living room with only the moonlight's glow acting as a dim light for you to see. You ran your hand through the Brunette's hair, pushing his messy hair out of his face.

"You staying?.." You spoke in a breathy tone.  Toby responded with a simple hum as he adjusted himself around you. He held you tightly, making sure you won't leave him even after he fell asleep. It's not like you could anyway, he was heavy as hell.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Dollhood

Dollhood is a follow-up to Humanity.

I'm sitting on her lap. The witch's hands were on my back, massaging me with a gentle firmness. I stare down at the glass of iced tea she poured me moments ago. I can't take my eyes off it.

"Take all the time you need, darling." She whispers in my ear. I shudder and let out a ragged exhale. "Becoming is a very big moment."

I very slowly, very deliberately, reach out and grab the drink with both hands. I pull it closer to me. I can hear myself breathing. I hold it up to my mouth. I feel her hands get softer and gentler. I... take a sip...

...oh. Oh.

I take another sip. And another. Each time I take just a bit more, and keep it in my mouth just a bit longer. Everything about it is so... perfect. The flavour, the temperature, the texture, the mix... I never knew iced tea could taste so lovely.

It's done. I set the empty glass down and let the feeling sink in. I'm going to become a doll.

The witch wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her torso. I just noticed how heavily I'm breathing.

"Did it taste good, darling?" Oh god, her voice is wonderful.

"Yes Miss."

Chills. A static runs up my spine and tickles my skin. "Miss..." I can't help but repeat it under my breath. It was automatic, a reflex, a natural reaction to her.

She laughs. She coos at me like I'm an adorable, beloved pet. "Oh, you're already such a good doll~"

I can't keep it up anymore. I just melt into her. I'm her doll. I'm her good doll.

"What else do you feel? I want to know everything. I've been waiting for this almost as long as you have."

Miss wants to know everything.

"I feel amazing." The words fall out of me. I'm barely trying to speak, but... it takes so little effort to follow her orders. "I feel a little stiff, but my muscles feel limp, and I..." I hesitate for a second. I can't stop for long, it feels too nice and right to do what she tells me. But I don't know how to say this. But before I can, I feel her nails ever so carefully trail up my arm.

I moan. I can't help myself. I lean my head back, resting on her shoulder. I can tell I have a big, blushy smile on my face, but I can't bring myself to care about anything except her.

"Oh, you are starting to harden, aren't you?" Her touch feels like God. I've been scratched in bed, but there's something different. It's... Miss. Her touch, her nails, it's so much more than I've ever felt.

And... she's right. My skin does feel different. I can feel it from her touch. Her nails aren't digging as deep as they should before they start to scrape. "Hold your arms up, darling."

"Yes Miss." I blurt it out, like every moment the words are unsaid is torture. She caresses along my arms until she reaches my elb... ow?

I look at my arms. My joints are exposed. There's no blood or bone, it's like the joints are part of my skin, not covered by it. I can see the seam in my arm where it connects to the joint, I can see what should move and what shouldn't. She's touching them directly. Oh god, they feel so tender and weak.

"You're whimpering, you poor thing. Do you need me to stop?"

"No Miss! No Miss, please, Miss, ple-hease, don't stop, please don't stop Miss." I close my eyes, I can't take all this stimulation, but it can't stop, please, it just can't. She's nuzzling into my neck now. "Then ask nicely. Dolls should be polite."

"Please Miss, please keep touching muh, mmmmmf, mmn, haa..." I can't, I just can't. It won't come out. It shouldn't come out.

"This one."

"Keep touching this one," I feel like the world is finally right. I... this one feels like this, talking about itself like it's just some thing, makes everything feel right. "keep touching this one," It just feels like what's supposed to happen, how this one was meant to talk about itself all its life. "keeping touching this one, keep-"

"Shhhh."

This one can't talk. She doesn't want it to.

"Lean forward, darling."

This one leans forward.

She holds this one's torso in place with both hands. She lifts it up just enough so she can place her ear against its upper back. Like this one is just a toy for her. Just Miss's toy. A toy for Miss.

She giggles. She's so beautiful, she's perfect, she makes this one want to weep with everything she does. "Can you hear the ticking, dear? Your clockwork is growing in. You must be so excited~"

It tries to keep still. It's holding its breath. It's so worked up, everything is so intense, it should be hearing its heartbeat in its ears. But it's just ticking. A soft, rhythmic tick, still going as fast as Miss deserves. Tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick.

She sets this one back down on her lap. This one feels so weightless, like it couldn't put up a fight even if it wanted to. Everything about her feels so much better, so much warmer, so much softer. This one never wants this to end.

"You're almost a doll, dear. Anyone who looks at you can tell you're not a person." She's enjoying herself so much, and the intense euphoria of knowing that this one is the reason she's so happy is the best it's felt all night. "Any last words before your humanity goes away? This is your last chance before you're nothing but my cute, obedient doll forever~"

"No Miss." This one can keep its voice down. "This one needs to be a good doll for you Miss. Please get rid of everything that ever made it human."

Miss hugs it tight again, as tight as she can, and it goes limp. We both fall sideways, and she's careful to keep herself cuddled close behind this one. She brushes this one's hair aside, and leans in as close as she can, until this one can feel the heat of her breath.

"Be still for your Miss, Sugar."

So this one was still.

[pan-kojiwa]

I remember, when I just started learning English, being SO dumbstruck at the concept of missing someone like i couldn’t comprehend what do y’all meant by “I miss YOU?????” Tf??? Wdym I miss you?? You’re the one that I miss??? I know it makes sense to you guys but before I was just like WTF?? cuz in french we say TU me manques-> basically YOUR absence is making me miss you/ you’re missing FROM ME.

And saying I miss you was like saying Je te manque in french which is like saying “you miss me” instead of “I miss you”

So I = Je, miss = manque, You= te

Oh so ->Je te manque? wrong! Tu me manques? Yes

And Tu = You, me (muh) manques = miss me (me is I in this context)

So does it means ->You miss me? NOPE! I miss you

See why I was losing my mind back then?

Tu me manques is I miss you

And it’s so mind blowing when you finally understand that french focuses on how the person’s absence is affecting you: you are the one suffering from the other’s absence, TU me manques -> your absence is making me miss you. Or the fact that you are not here is making me miss you (that’s how I explain it to myself lol)

But English focuses on how the speaker feel the person’s absence: I miss you -> I AM feeling your absence

I probably didn’t explain it right cuz now that I understand it perfectly it kinda blurs in my head and it’s like wait why was this confusing already?? Both make perfect sense??? ugh but I hope i got my point across 😭😭

[arcane-vagabond]

An Gealbhan

Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x Reader

“Maireann lá go ruaig ach maireann an grá go huaigh.” A day lasts until it's chased away, but love lasts until the grave.

Summary: When you're touched by the fae, the price is almost always a heavy one. Frank doesn't listen to the stories, and so he learns the hard way.

Content Warnings: Liberties taken with Celtic mythology and tales, Magic, Struggles to conceive, Talk of sick baby, Deals with the fae, Old time beliefs, Proposals, Self doubt, Marriage, Wedding night, Smut [oral (male receiving), dry humping, p in v, dirty talk, groping], Infertility, Major Depression, Grief, Alcoholism, Allusions to self harm, Happy Ending (sort of?), Angst, Fluff. I think that's it for the major ones, but PLEASE let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 12.7k

Helpful pronunciations (not exact, but close):

A chroi (uh kree) -- My heart

A chuisle mo chroi (uh hoosh-luh muh kree) -- Literally "pulse of my heart," but figuratively means "darling," "beloved," or "my everything."

Wean (wee-un) -- Just slang for "wee one"

Mo fhíorghra (muh heer-graw) -- My true love

Frank Langdon Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Song Inspo

All his life, Frank Langdon had heard stories of those who had been touched by the fae. People who had a gift unique to themselves—whether big or small. There was an old woman who could guess the gender of any baby the moment another knew they were expecting. A man outside of town could fashion a horseshoe in no time at all, never missing a beat with his hammer. He had even heard the whispers of the townsfolk talking about some newborn spirited away to the wilds, none of which he particularly believed. There was one person, though, that had Frank pausing every time he saw them.

The farmer’s daughter was a beautiful girl, of that no one was keen to argue. It was the peculiar way about her, though, that had people whispering.

“Touched by the fae, that one is,” his mother would cluck on their trips into town. “Might even be one of them herself for all we know.”

Her words were never spoken in malice, but rather a wariness that had Frank’s attention. He would look at the pretty girl, studying her and trying to find what it was about her that had his mother so on edge. Try though he might, he could never find it.

Sure, she was strange in a way. Her skin seemed to glow from within, the warmth of her smile drawing him in. Her laughter, like that of chiming bells, left him in awe. Even the hardest man was hard pressed to remain so when in her presence at her family’s stall. Frank would watch as the sun gleamed in her hair, her eyes always seeming to catch him staring at her. She would smile at him, a twinkle in those pretty eyes before returning to her task at hand.

Frank Langdon considered himself as someone who was not unusual, but as someone who was gifted. He was handsome, a fact he was made aware of every time he was the subject of his friends’ teasing or when he caught a village girl smiling at him too long. He was confident, often talking his way out of trouble when he found himself in the mood for mischief, and he considered himself to be well spoken on top of it all. He was smart, often praised by his teachers for his achievements and natural abilities, and his mother wished to see him off to school to become a doctor. Frank paid them all no mind—he only had a mind for the farmer’s daughter when all was said and done.

Perhaps that was why he found himself growing bolder as he got older—daring to step foot near the stall where he often found her. She was already helping the widow Connor when he happened by, and so he pretended to busy himself with the produce, picking them up one by one and turning them over as if inspecting them.

“Think you’ll find something interesting if you look hard enough?”

He started, eyes wide as he swiveled his head to look at her, the smile that warmed him now took his breath away as she stood across from him now. She glanced down at the carrot in his hand before meeting his eyes once more, a question on her brow as she fought back a smile.

“Huh?” He asked, cursing himself for how stupid he sounded and how off kilter he felt in that moment. She breathed out a quiet laugh, her eyelashes fluttering in a way that made Frank feel as if his heart might stop.

“It’s just a regular, old carrot,” she continued. “Many more like it here, so there’s no need to look so hard.”

Frank could feel the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks and then to the tips of his ears. She leaned in closer to him—the sweet scent of her, something akin to the heather that grew in the wilds filling his senses—their noses almost brushing as she quirked a brow.

“It’s not filled with magic or whatever the folks around here accuse me of doing to it,” she smiled. Frank’s eyes grew wide as he stared down at her.

“I wasn’t-” he cut himself off, the heat under his skin blazing into an inferno as he attempted to recover. “I didn’t mean-”

“I’m not accusing you,” she chuckled, leaning back and allowing him a moment to recover himself. “Only assuring you that my da’s the one who grew’em. Nothing hokey about our produce.”

She paused, rubbing her pointer finger along her bottom lip—a movement Frank found himself enraptured with.

“They are the best you’ll find though,” she continued, meeting his gaze once more. “But that’s more the soil’s doing than mine, rest assured.”

“The best I’ll find, huh?” He said, a small smile finding its way to his lips. “That’s a bold claim if ever there was one.”

“Ah, but is it bold if it’s a fact?” She countered, her eyes glittering with mirth as she leaned forward once more. “Go on, then. Take that and another on the house, and if you cook’em up tonight and they aren’t the sweetest morsels you’ve ever had I’ll…”

She trailed off, seeming to ponder her threat, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

“You’ll give me a kiss,” Frank said, his heart pounding in his chest. He half expected her to slap him right across the face for his presumptuousness, but to his great relief, she smiled.

“Aye,” she nodded, fighting back a grin. “But if they are, you have to stand on my stall and shout to the whole market about how tasty they are.”

Frank let out a belt of laughter, startling the passersby as they milled about around him. He nodded, extending his hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he grinned. She grinned back at him, her smile squeezing at his heart as she slipped her hand in to his, squeezing slightly.

“A deal it is then.”

And true to his word, Frank went home that night and had his mother cook up the carrots, delighting in the sweetness of them as he thought about the bonnie girl who made a living at the market.

He dreamed of her that night, the way her hair fell past her shoulder as she grinned back at him. They ran in the forest, the green sweeping by as his feet hit the ground. The market girl seemed to fly across the peat, her toes barely touching down before she was springing back up again. Her laughter peeled in the quiet of the forest, the birds joining in with her in a cacophony of song.

He awoke with a start, the birds singing sweetly outside his window as the sun rose above the horizon. He closed his eyes on a deep sigh, relishing in the warmth of his bed for a moment more before resigning himself to the day. He had been studying under the local doctor—Michael Robinavitch, or Robby as he kindly reminded everyone. Today would be a half day under Robby’s tutelage as the older doctor had business a few towns over that afternoon. He ate his breakfast quickly, ignoring the chastising of his mother to slow down, and out the door he was.

The town was already rife with activity—the market opening, the baker firing up his ovens for a second round of baked goods, and the bell signaling the start to the school day. Frank looked for the farmer’s daughter amongst the chaos, frowning when he couldn’t spot her.

The door to Robby’s creaked open and jerked shut behind him as he stepped into the open room of the shop. The smell of herbs and remedies hit his nose, and he wiggled it to abstain from the sneeze that threatened to overtake him.

“You’re late.”

Robby appeared in the doorway, pursed lips and brow high as he peered at the younger man. Frank gave him an apologetic grimace.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, moving behind the counter. Robby watched him silently, arms crossed and expression passive as Frank put his things away.

“Don’t suppose you were late because of a certain girl, hm?”

Frank nearly choked on his breath, his cheeks blazing for the second time in twenty-four hours as he looked at his mentor with wild eyes.

“What?” He said, voice much higher than it should be. “What girl? Huh? No. No girl. What makes you think that? Did someone say something?”

Robby hummed, a ghost of a smile on the corner of his lips as he walked up to the counter.

“Well, since you’re here now,” he drawled, “you can start by cleaning out the old containers. We’ll leave them to air dry for the next few days, and you’ll repack them with the new stuff when I get back.”

Frank worked diligently for the next few hours on the various tasks Robby assigned to him, his excitement growing as the clocked ticked on. A little after midday, Robby sauntered in from the backrooms, shrugging on his coat as he set his suitcase down by his feet.

“You’re free to go,” he stated simply, sparing Frank a glance.

“You’re sure?” He asked, already scrambling to his feet and inching for the door.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Robby nodded, Frank already making a beeline for the exit. “Say hi to your girl for me!”

Frank barely heard him as he all but ran towards the market. There were more people out than this morning, something to be expected as the day had progressed. Frank muttered half hearted apologies as he pushed his way through the crowd and to her stall. He was disappointed to not see her already standing there, and so he busied himself with the pick of vegetables laid out for customers to peruse. He bent down to inspect them, pretending to consider the different produce carefully.

“The carrots must have been just fine if you’re back already.”

Frank’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes darting up to look at her as she smiled down at him. A warmth radiated from her, and he was tempted to simply stand there and bask in the light that was her.

“More than that,” he grinned, standing straight. “They were the tastiest carrots I’ve ever had.”

“Were they now?” She hummed, peering up at him through her lashes.

“Yes,” he nodded, his smile growing even bigger as he recalled their words from the day before. “And I believe we had a deal.”

She squawked as Frank hoisted himself on top of the table, the old wood creaking in protest as he stood. Several heads turned in his direction, and Frank cleared his throat.

“Excuse me!” He called out, drawing the attention of the rest of the market. Every pair of eyes felt like a hole in his skin, but he ignored the nerves in his stomach. “I feel it is my duty to inform each and every one of you of the tasty morsels you’ll find at this here stall. Truly the finest produce in all the land!”

“Get down from there!” She laughed, her lips split into the smile he loved so much. “You’re a mad man!”

“Aye, mad for you,” he agreed with a laugh, teetering on the table as he clumsily crawled back down. The girl wrapped her arms around his shoulder, hiding her face into the sleeve of his shirt as the passersby cast them a mixture of disapproving and bemused looks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she mumbled, though her shoulders shook with her giggles.

“I’m a man of my word,” he shrugged, his cheeks aching from how hard he was smiling. She pushed away from him, and Frank found himself missing her near already.

“That you are,” she hummed, hands on her hips. “Tell me your name?”

It was only weeks later when Frank found himself following her into the woods, the trees looming high over their heads as they journeyed deeper.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, his hand tightening around hers. She tossed him a mischievous smile over her shoulders, her fingers squeezing his.

“It’s a secret,” she murmured, turning to look back forward. Frank huffed, the strands of his hair falling into his eyes as he stumbled over a wayward branch. The birds chattered around them, and Frank found his gaze drifting upwards more often than not, his eyes trying to follow the small creatures as they danced through the air.

She came to an abrupt halt, and Frank nearly stumbled into her. They stood at the treeline, a small clearing before them. The sun shone in rays that touched the peat on the ground, a small, babbling brook running through. A tree stump stood proudly on the tiny bump in the ground, the base wide, and Frank briefly thought about the mighty ash that must have stood there once. He watched as she stepped forward, her feet never making a sound as she stepped into the sunlight. The beams of light cast a glow around her, a halo shining atop her head as she basked in the warmth of the sun's touch.

“Where are we?” Frank asked, taking a hesitant step towards her. She blinked at him, as if surprised that he was still there.

“I come here to think,” she answered, looking up at the sky above. “Or when I'm sad, or have a lot on my mind.”

She paused.

“Which is often, I suppose,” she hummed, tapping a finger to her bottom lip in thought. “No one from home dares to venture this far. Not unless they're willing to bargain.”

“Bargain?” Frank asked, taking another step forward.

“Aye,” she nodded. “With the fair folk. They're a cheeky bunch, but they're always looking for a trade.”

Frank scoffed. “Don't tell me you believe in that nonsense.”

“Don't be calling that which you don't know 'nonsense,” Frank Langdon,” she scowled. “It'll do you good to show some respect to the wee creatures.”

“Right,” he hummed, but his skepticism was still plain on his face. “And what have we come to bargain for then?”

“Nothing,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“So...what? You've brought me out here to tell me stories?” He teased, crossing the rest of the distance between the two of them. She hummed, casting him a less than amused side-eyed glance. She pulled away from him, her fingers lingering against his before dropping her hand.

“You've heard tales of the ones touched by the fae?” She asked, though Frank knew it wasn't really a question. He nodded anyway, eyes trained on her as she took a deep breath, playing with a fold in her skirt.

“Well,” she continued, “most people don't know that in order to be touched, something must be given. It's the way of things, you know? The old woman who can guess whether a baby will be a boy or girl before it's even born?”

Frank nodded again, his brow creasing in confusion.

“Haven't you ever wondered why she's never had children of her own?” She asked, a wry smile on her pretty lips.

Frank frowned. No, he hadn't considered that before. He hadn't thought much of her beyond the odd time he accompanied Robby to help deliver a baby. She was always present at the births, a smile on her face, though now Frank thought he recalled a sort of resigned sadness in her eyes as she watched the new mothers hold their babes.

“And the old man who could always make a perfect horseshoe?” She prodded. “You remember what happened to him, don't you?”

Frank recalled the old man, his grown growing deeper. It had been a tragic accident, he was sure of that. The old man had lost his hand while working on a project for the local lord, and now relied upon his children to provide for him.

“That was an accident,” Frank insisted, shaking his head. She smiled wryly at him.

“Are you sure about that?”

Frank didn't respond. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes set on the ground beneath him as he mulled over her words. Shaking his head, he glanced back up at her.

He had never seen her look so sad, and his heart ached when she hung her head, turning to put her back to him.

“Many, many years ago,” she began, “there was once a farmer who loved a girl, and she loved him in return. And so, the two were married.

“The farmer's wife wanted nothing more than a child, and try though they might, the powers that be never saw fit to grant them their wish. They tried everything, of course. Every remedy, every treatment—nothing was too outlandish in their pursuit for their child.

“Finally, the farmer's wife fell pregnant, and nine months later she gave birth to a baby girl. But, the baby girl was sick, you see, and the doctor said the wean wouldn't live to see the end of the week.

“The farmer and his wife were devastated, and so they decided to do the unthinkable. Under the cover of darkness, they took their baby girl to the forest that lay on the edge of town. They walked and walked and walked until they came to this very spot right here. They lay their baby girl in a faerie ring of wild mushrooms, and they waited. They waited for hours until suddenly before them stood a man.

“The man was not like any man they had ever seen before. Where feet should stand, two cloven hooves were in their place. Antlers grew out of his head like that of a stag, and his eyes were dark and full of stars.

“The man asked them why they trespassed on lands that didn't belong to them. The farmer and his wife explained their plight to him, begging him for help to save their daughter. The man waved them away, telling them that they didn't know what they were asking of him, and to leave from this place and never return.

”The farmer and his wife would not heed the man's warning, and once more they begged him to save their daughter.

“'Very well,' he said. 'I will save the babe, but what have you brought me as payment?'“

She paused, a wry smile on her lips as she tilted her head up towards the sky.

“The farmer and his wife hadn't thought to bring any form of payment, you see,” she continued. “In their grief, they had forgotten that the fair folk never did anything out of the goodness of their heart. There was always a price to pay for their magic.

“The man saw their plight, and once more he took pity on them.

“'Turn out your pockets,' he said. And the farmer and his wife both did as instructed. The farmer's wife had nothing in hers, but the farmer, ever a hard working man, had twenty-five seeds in his pocket. In the blink of an eye, the hooved man was standing right before them, peering down into the farmer's hands. He stood there, not a word spoken before passing his hand, the tips of his fingers black as coal, over the farmer's hand. The farmer looked down to see that the seeds had disappeared.

“'Your payment is accepted,' said the man. 'For each seed you have payed me, I will bestow one year of life to your babe. On the harvest of the twenty-fifth year, her life will be returned to me.'

“And then the man stepped back, and in another blink, he vanished,” she finished. Frank blinked at her.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” He asked, frown pulling on his lips. “Why bring it up now?”

“You know what they say about me, aye?” She said softly. “That I'm one of them. One of the ones touched by the fae? Well, it's true, and one day I'll return to them that which they gave.”

Frank felt the anger rising in his chest.

“It won't happen,” he snapped, hands clenched into fists at his side. She blinked at him, lips parted as she inhaled. Frank marched up to her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezed them tightly against his chest.

“It won't happen,” he repeated, a hint of desperation in his words this time. “Even if all of that is true—and I don't believe it is—I won't let you be taken away from here. You belong here with your parents, your brothers and sisters, your friends, and—”

He stopped himself, heat creeping up his chest and to his cheeks as he averted his gaze. The farmer's daughter squeezed his hands now, her head dipping to try and meet his eyes.

“And?” She questioned, a soft look on her face as she finally met his gaze. Frank studied her for a moment, much like he had all those weeks ago. He saw the warmth that radiated from her, felt it in her fingertips as he loosened his grip. He smelled the sweetness of her, something distinctly floral and distinctly her that drove him almost to madness. He felt the tremor in her hands as he held them, the tickle of her exhale as she waited for his answer.

“And me,” he said finally, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. He let the confession roll over the both of them, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for her rejection. He was a fool to think that she would want anything to do with him when it came to love. She was an angel on earth, and he was just a man. A man who would do anything for her to look at him, to hold him, to love him. He'd give up everything he had for one moment in her presence.

The softness of her fingertips tracing up to cup his jaw drew him out of his thoughts, and he pried his eyes open to meet hers. A quiet curiosity sat in her irises, studying him—for what, he didn't know. He let her look, bared his soul to her in that moment, and she graced him with a soft smile.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and Frank thought he had made it up. He blinked at her, disbelief evident in his eyes as he looked at her. She giggled, “kiss me, Frank Langdon.”

He inhaled sharply, his heart jumping in his chest. Slowly—hesitantly—he pressed himself closer to her, her skirts billowing around them as a breeze kicked up. He brought his hand up to cup the back of her neck, her eyelashes fluttering closed as he leaned in.

The second their lips touched, Frank knew he was done for. Her lips were soft against his, eagerly seeking him out as he gripped her waist. He pulled at her gently, moving his lips against hers as he lost himself. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have no one else.

Slowly, she pulled away from him, giggling once more as he chased her lips with his own. He kissed her again, running the hand that had been at the back of her neck down to rest on the small of her back.

“Frank,” she said against his lips, the smile he loved present once more. She pulled her head back, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “Frank, we should head home.”

His breathing was heavy as he looked down at her in his arms. He willed himself to let her go, albeit slowly, and took a step back as she brushed her skirts.

“Okay,” he nodded, gesturing towards the edge of the clearing. “Lead the way then.”

Months passed, turning into a year, and the two were happy. Frank continued to train under Robby, and the time soon came where he would know longer need his mentor's supervision.

When Frank wasn’t in town, he was out in the forest and glens collecting herbs and plants for Robby. There were times when he would stop and listen to the birds, reminded of the sound of his sweetheart’s voice, and he would feel an ache so deep, that he would rush through his task, hurrying back to the town.

“There’s roots on these,” Robby would tisk, but Frank was already out the door, feet carrying him to the familiar stall at the market.

“I brought you something,” he said, presenting her with a stem of wild heather, the purple petals shining brightly in the sunshine.

“It’s beautiful,” she smiled, plucking the sprig from his hand and marveling at it. “I’ve always loved flowers.”

“I’ll bring you more,” he replied without hesitation. And he did. Every chance he could, he’d bring her a flower from the mountain. He’d watch her smile before tucking the bloom somewhere within the folds of her dress. He never knew what she did with them, just that she showed the same fondness for them each time he presented her with a new one.

Frank had visited the farmer one spring day, dressed finely and a tremor in his hands as he made his way up the dirt path to the old farmhouse.

The farmer sat on the bench just in front of the door, his hands covered in the dirt from the field and one of his boots in his hands as he inspected the bottom. He peered up, a hard set look in his eyes that nearly made Frank stop in his tracks and turn around. He stopped at the gate, waving to the old man where he sat.

“Good day, sir,” he smiled, a gesture that went unreturned.

“What business have you here, lad?” The farmer asked, dropping his boot to the ground and stuffing his foot inside.

“Might I come a bit closer?” Frank asked, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as he bounced on his heels. The farmer sniffed, nodding.

“Aye,” he agreed, scratching at his beard before picking up a knife and his whetstone. “The gate's unlocked then.”

Frank jerked towards the gate, taking a steadying breath as he pushed it open. He let it shut behind him with a crash as he hurried towards the older man, this time stopping only a few feet away. A beat passed between them as Frank waited for permission to speak.

“Well,” the farmer huffed, eyes focused on the task in front of him. “Get on with it.”

Frank swallowed around the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides.

“Sir,” he started, clearing his throat. “As you probably know, I've been spending quite a bit of time with your daughter these past few months.”

The farmer hummed, and Frank's fingers curled around the edges of his pockets.

“That is to say,” he continued, swallowing once more, “that I'm quite fond of her.”

The old farmer sighed, setting down his task and fixing Frank with a hard look.

“If you're going to keep wasting my time,” he growled, “you can go on and leave me be.”

Frank felt his stomach drop, his eyes widening.

“Or,” the farmer continued, resting his hands on his knees, “you can just say what it is you came all this way to say.”

“Sir,” Frank cleared his throat, pushing his shoulders back in a bid to appear more confident than he felt in that moment. “I've come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”

“Marriage, eh?” The farmer hummed, stroking his beard. “And what have you to offer my daughter, hm?”

“I've nearly finished my apprenticeship under Dr. Robby,” Frank explained. “I'll be making my own rounds and taking on my own apprentice soon enough.”

“A healer,” the farmer nodded, “always work for a healer.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank nodded, his confidence growing at the thoughtful tone of the other man. “And I've got plans to build ourselves a house here soon. Your daughter will want for nothing, sir, I promise you.”

“Don't be getting ahead of yourself now, lad,” the farmer huffed. “I've not given you my blessing yet.”

“Don't you be listening to him now, lad.”

Frank and the farmer turned to see the matriarch of the old farm standing in the doorway, hands on her hips as she glared at her husband.

“Ma'am,” Frank nodded, giving her a polite, albeit nervous, smile. ”How are you today?”

“I'm just fine, thank you for asking,” she replied, stepping out of the doorway and onto the porch. The door clattered against the frame, but the old woman paid it no mind. “I'll be much better once my husband comes to his senses and gives you the blessing he and I both know he'll give.”

“Quiet now, woman!” The farmer griped. “Can't think with all yer racket now.”

“Seamus, you promised her you'd give it if he asked,” his wife scolded, dark eyes narrowing in warning. The farmer blew out a long breath before ducking his head and nodding slowly.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Aye, that I did. The good lord knows I can never say no to that one.”

It was the farmer's wife's turn to hum now, her face relaxing as she looked over at where Frank stood awkwardly.

“Go on now, lad,” she smiled, waving towards her husband. “Ask him again.”

“Sir,” Frank started, “I've come to you today to ask for your permission to marry your daughter. I'll admit that at this moment, there isn't much I can offer her, but with time, I'd be able to offer her a roof over her head, food in her belly, and all the comforts my station in life would allow.”

The farmer didn't reply immediately, instead choosing to study Frank. After a tense moment, he sighed.

“I won't give you my permission,” he began, and Frank's heart sank to his stomach, his face falling in despair. The farmer held up a hand.

“Let me finish,” he said, glancing at his wife.

“I can't give you my permission,” he continued, “but I can give you my blessing to marry my daughter.”

Frank couldn't stop the smile that threatened to tear his face in two. The farmer's wife let out a belt of laughter as she clapped her hands, and even the farmer had a ghost of a smile on his face now, though something like sadness shone in his eyes.

“I wish you two a lifetime of happiness,” he said.

Frank left the farm in good spirits, and once he had rounded the bend on the road and was out of sight, he broke into a sprint. He reached town in no time, several people crying out in protest as he nearly ran into the, and he shouted several apologies over his shoulder. It wasn't until he caught sight of his love that he slowed down.

She caught sight of him, a smile breaking out over her face as she continued talking with the old woman purchasing some of the vegetables at the stand. Frank trotted up, sneaking behind the table as he waited for her to finish. After what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes, she turned her attention to him.

“Frank,” she greeted, smile still firmly on her face. “What are you-”

He cut her off, taking her hand in his and pulling her away from the stall. “Come with me.”

“I can't just leave,” she scoffed good-naturedly. “I have to tend to my customers.”

She gestured towards the small gathering of people still waiting to make their purchases, all shooting him varying degrees of dirty looks. He gave them a grimace of apology, turning his gaze back to his love.

“When will you be free?” He asked, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers.

“Not for a while yet, I'm afraid,” she said apologetically. “Come find me at the usual time—round sunset.”

And so Frank reluctantly let her go, some of the older folk sharing knowing smiles between one another while others continued to frown.

A few hours later, once the sun was dipping towards the horizon, Frank trekked from his home back to the market in time to find his love closing her stall for the day.

“There you are,” she grinned, laying a tarp over the potatoes. “I'll be finished in just one second.”

Frank shuffled on his feet, eyes wandering around the nearly empty market square as stragglers finished their purchases and shopkeepers closed their carts and doors. He would take her away from here. No more standing in the sun or haggling with cheap customers looking for a bargain. He would have her home, tending to a garden of her own where she would only sell what she wanted. She wouldn't want for anything as far as he was concerned, and maybe in a few years, they'd have a couple of weans running around as well. He smiled at the thought, his heart beaming with pride.

A hand slipped into his, drawing him from his thoughts, and he looked down to meet her eye.

“Where did you want to take me?” She asked coyly, pressing against his arm.

“Come with me, and I'll show you,” he grinned back. He squeezed her hand, pulling her away from the market and out of town altogether. The sun continued to dip, casting shadows around them as they walked along the path that led to one of the hills that overlooked the valley. Atop the hill sat an old ash tree, it's branches expanding far and wide. Frank stopped underneath, taking a moment to steady himself as his love admired the evening view.

“It's beautiful,” she murmured, eyes sparkling as they reflected the rays of the sun. Frank was speechless for a moment—to enamored with how she looked standing there before him, and he swore he would never grow tired of the feeling.

“A chroi,” he started, turning to face her. She turned her head, a question on her lips as she watched him fidget nervously with the cuffs of his shirt.

“A chroi,” he tried again, willing his voice to steady. She quirked a brow at him.

“Frank,” she replied, bemused by his nerves. He swallowed thickly, clapping his hands against his sides before steeling himself.

“A chroi,” he began for a third time, “never in my life did I ever think I'd meet someone like you. You're kind, smart, funny, and you don't need me to tell you this, but you're not half bad looking either.”

She let out an indignant gasp, but the smile gave her away as she smacked his arm. He laughed, his love joining in after a moment and the two giggled as he took her hands in his.

“It has been an honor getting to know you more and more these past months,” he said, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. “And I hope that you feel the same way?”

“I do,” she nodded, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Good,” he breathed, “good. I wanted to tell you that I went to see your father today.”

Her smile slipped as her brow furrowed in confusion. “My father? But why?”

“I went to ask for his permission, and he gave me his blessing instead,” Frank explained, letting go of one of her hands to dig through his pockets. Slowly, he knelt on one knee before her, holding out a small, emerald ring before her. It had belonged to his mother, and he had asked for it after the day he had proclaimed loudly to the market square that his love sold the best carrots in the county.

She gasped as she looked down at him, a hand over her heart as he gripped her other gently.

“Marry me, mo fhíorghra,” he said, eyes watching her every move as she stood still. Slowly, her hand reached out to take the ring, stopping short just as her fingertips brushed the golden band. Shaking her head, she withdrew from him, and Frank thought he might crumble and be swallowed whole by the earth beneath him.

“I can't,” she whispered, turning away, though Frank caught sight of the tears that lined her bottom lashes. He staggered to his feet, keenly aware of the ache in his chest that threatened to consume him in that moment.

“But why?” He asked, cursing his voice for cracking. He gripped the ring tight in his hand. He didn't understand, why was she saying no? He thought she felt the same for him, but had he been mistaken all along?

She kept her back turned to him, hands clutching at her shoulders and hugging herself. Frank's first instinct was to rush to her side and hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, but right now the demand for an answer far outweighed anything else.

“You know what the folks in town say about me,” she replied, shoulders hunching even farther. “I'm touched—cursed.”

“I don't believe in-” Frank started, anger rising up within him, but she cut him off.

“I know you don't believe the stories,” she sobbed, “but it's true! All of it! One day my time will be up and I'll have to leave. You deserve someone who can give you a full life with happiness and love. I can't give you that.”

Frank felt like she had ripped his heart out of his chest.

“Do you,” he murmured, “do you not love me?”

“What?” She asked, whirling around to face him. He saw the tears streaming down her face, the sorrow nestled within her eyes.

“Of course I do!” She exclaimed, taking a step towards him. “I love you more than anything in this world, Frank.”

“Then...why?” He asked, shoulders slumping. She crossed the distance between them, reaching up to cup his cheek as she stared up at him.

“You deserve a normal life, Frank,” she whispered earnestly. “You deserve a girl who won't draw the ire of everyone around you—someone who won't draw the whispers and ruin your reputation. You deserve someone fitting of your station.”

Frank huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Certainly she wasn't serious? He searched her eyes and found only a reluctant resolve within them. He pursed his lips, shaking his head as the anger rose up within him once more.

“I don't want anyone else,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes flashing dangerously. “Just-”

He stopped, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to steady himself. He opened his eyes once more, locking with hers.

“You listen to me, alright?” He said, face as serious as the grave, and she fixed him with an uncertain look, but he pressed on. “I won't hear you disparage yourself like this, a chroi. I won't. You are the most extraordinary woman I've met in my entire life, and I'll hear nothing on the contrary, do you hear me?”

He paused, letting his words sink in.

“I will have you,” he continued, his hands coming up to frame her face as his eyes searched hers, “or I will have no one at all. You've bewitched me, and no other will do. Every morning I think of you first thing, and when I lie in my bed at night, it's you who haunts my dreams. I will do whatever it takes to convince you of my feelings for you, just name it. Do you want me to bring you every flower on the mountain? I'll do it twice over. Scream to the world until my voice is hoarse and my throat is raw about my love for you? It's done. You want all the jewels and fineries this side of the world? They're yours. Whatever you want, I'll make it happen, just-”

He took a breath, willing the tears to leave his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers once more.

“Please say yes,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers. She closed her eyes, basking in him as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Please,“ he murmured.

A kiss to her temple.

“Please.”

A kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Please.”

He hovered above her lips, waiting. Her chest wracked with a sob as she slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

Frank thought he imagined it—her voice so soft and small in that moment, but when he looked at her, he knew he had heard correctly.

Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers as she carded her fingers through his hair. They stayed like that for a long moment before finally pulling away.

“I could die a very happy man right now,” he confessed, a smile pulling on the corner of his lips. His love grinned.

“If you do that,” she teased, knocking her nose against his, “then who will meet me at the altar, I wonder?”

Frank laughed—a laugh that rang out in the twilight and startled the birds nesting in the tree above them. They both looked up, the birds chirping almost angrily down at them, and when Frank looked back at his love, he saw that her smile had dropped into a thoughtful frown, her eyes looking far away.

“Sometimes I think I can understand them,” she confessed quietly. “Like they speak to me.”

“What do they say?” Frank asked curiously, glancing between her and the now quieted birds. Her frown deepened.

“Time's almost up.”

The wedding took place only a few months later, just before the harvest. The leaves were starting to turn, and there was a coolness in the air that hinted at the return of Father Winter.

Frank stood at the altar, hands clasped tightly together in front of himself as he bounced on his feet, eyes darting wildly around the sanctuary.

“Relax,” whispered Robby, nearly causing Frank to jump out of his skin. The older man chuckled as he leaned back. “She'll be here.”

“I know,” Frank nodded, pressing his lips together firmly. “I know she will be.”

At that moment, the church doors opened to reveal his love. She wore a simple dress of light cream, the hem falling to the floor, and the sleeves stopping at her elbows. In her hands she held a small bouquet of white campions, cress, daisies, and ferns.

Frank felt his throat constrict and his eyes water. He ducked his head to wipe the tears from his eyes, and he felt Robby pat him on the shoulder. His love stopped before him, a thing of beauty like he had never seen, and as she kissed her father's cheek, Frank extended his hand to her. She slipped her hand in his and allowed him to guide her across from him.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, and before he knew it, the priest was pronouncing them man and wife.

His love looked at him expectantly, and Frank couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face as he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. The church erupted into cheers as the happy couple walked out of the church and into the brisk air. The church bells rang as everyone followed suit, the reception being held in the main square of town.

The night was filled with merriment and congratulations from their friends and family, and as the day gave way to night, Frank's father made the announcement that he had secretly had one of the old houses just outside of town quietly remodeled for the newlyweds. Frank thanked his father and shook his hand while his love bestowed her father-in-law with a sweet kiss to his cheek.

Soon after, the two departed with well wishes and another round of congratulations from their rowdy guests.

The house stood just a stone's throw away from the neighbors, the stone looking somewhat warn and the thatched roof looking fairly new. Frank unlocked the front door, pushing it in as they both took in the already furnished entry.

“It was mighty kind of your da to do this for us,” his love smiled, squeezing his hand as they both looked around at the room. Frank didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down to scoop her up in his arms, laughing as she shrieked.

“Frank!” She laughed, arms wrapped around his neck as he kicked the door shut behind them. He set her down gently, a smile on his lips as he leaned in to kiss her. She met him eagerly, her lips moving against his as they basked in one other.

“I'll light us a fire,” he murmured, pulling away reluctantly as the evening's chill ran through him. He made quick work of the peat, the fire lighting up the small room in no time.

“That should do it for now,” he muttered, dusting off his hands and standing once more. His love caught his lips with hers, stealing the breath from his lungs as his hands immediately found purchase on her hips.

Her mouth was hungry against his, and Frank returned the kiss with just as much fervor and passion. He bunched the skirts of her dress up, pulling her closer to him as her fingers dug into the muscle of his upper arms.

“We should,” Frank gasped breathlessly as pulled away, her teeth biting into the fullness of his bottom lip. “We should find the bedroom.”

She let go of his lip, dragging the tip of her tongue across his jaw and to the shell of his ear.

“Later,” she smirked against him, and he shuddered. Suddenly, she dropped to her knees before him, looking up at him demurely as she fluttered her lashes at him. She pressed her face against the rapidly growing bulge in his pants, and Frank thought he might pass out from the barrage of thoughts running through his head. He watched as she dragged her fingers up to undo his belt, undoing the clasp of his trousers before sliding them down far enough to release him from their confines.

Frank's breath was coming out in shallow pants, his eyes hooded as he looked down at her. A deep moan left him unbidden as she wrapped her fingers around him, his cock twitching and hardening at the foreign feeling. He had fooled around with some of the girls when he was younger, but he hadn't sought the touch of anyone since he had returned from school so many years ago.

Frank through his head back as she licked the tip of him, his hips bucking forward involuntarily as he sought the heat of her mouth on him. He heard her chuckle before she gave him another teasing lick.

“A chroi,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping her shoulder for leverage. “Please.”

She hummed, granting him mercy as she slowly wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, sucking lightly. Frank's hands found their way to her hair as she began to bob her head, swallowing more of him down her throat until she gagged. The movement caused him to cry out into the dark room, and the pair of them paused as they adjusted.

Her hands slid up and down his thighs in a soothing gesture, as if she didn't have him inside of her in such an obscene way. He looked down at her, meeting her gaze, and Frank felt utterly at her mercy in that moment. He saw the corners of her mouth twitch—as if she too were realizing this.

She began to move once more, the sound of her gagging on him mixed with his cries of delight ringing in his ears. She sucked and licked along his length, increasing her ministrations as time passed, and before he knew it, Frank felt his cock twitch in warning.

“A chroi,” he gasped, his fingers tightening ever so slightly in her hair. If anything, this seemed to spur her on, and Frank gave out another guttural cry before his cum was shooting down her throat. His hips thrust of their own accord as he road out his release, and his wife practically purred as she took everything he gave her.

Slowly, she pulled off of him, a strand of saliva connecting from her lips to his softening length. Frank's skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he struggled to regain his breath. He fell to his knees in front of her, leaning in to kiss her. His tongue ran over her bottom lip, plundering into her mouth eagerly. He tasted himself on her, and that drove him mad once more.

She pushed him back, disconnecting their lips as he blinked up at her in surprise as she removed her dress. She straddled his hips, lifting her skirts as she settled on top of him. She nipped and sucked at his skin as he settled his hands on her hips. She rolled against him, letting out a low groan as his cock stirred to life once more. She leaned down to press her lips to his ear.

“Want to feel you inside me,” she purred, slowly grinding down on top of him, the heat of her cunt driving him wild. “Want to feel you fill me up.”

Frank whined, closing his eyes as he felt the wetness of her. She smirked against him.

“Do you like that?” She asked, nails digging into his chest as she picked up her pace. “You want to be inside me?”

“Yes,” he croaked, reaching for her. She circled her hips, whining as his length brushed against her clit. She lifted herself up long enough to line him up at her entrance before slowly sinking down on top of him. The pair of them let out a pleasured cry. Neither of them moved as they basked in the feel of finally being connected. She reached for his hands, pulling them up to cup her breasts, and he gave an appreciative squeeze as his eyes roved over her. Slowly, she began to rock her hips against his, and Frank watched her in wonder. What had he done to deserve the love and want of this creature atop him? He silently thanked any god that was listening for his good fortune, losing himself in the feeling of her inner walls squeezing and milking him.

“You feel so good inside of me,” she gasped, grinding her clit against him. “So big, so full.”

“Feels like heaven being inside of you,” he admitted on a whisper as he thrust upwards. She cried out as he did so, nose scrunching in pleasure. Frank could feel his release rapidly approaching, and he sat up, leaning her back so that she sat in his lap, hips still straddling his own. He planted his feet onto the ground as he started thrusting up into her, the sound of skin clapping filling the otherwise silent room.

“A chroi,” he gasped, locking eyes with her, trying to convey to her his predicament. Her lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and she leaned forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth with fervor as she picked up the pace of her grinding.

“Come for me,” she whispered, pulling away, using his shoulders as leverage as she bounced on top of him.

“Want to feel you,” she gasped, her own climax drawing near. “Want to feel you stake your claim. Fill me up, a chuisle.”

The endearment caused something inside of Frank to snap, and he choked on a groan as his cock twitched inside of her, his cum painting her inner walls as she came with a cry. Frank whined as she milked him, burying his face into her chest as her pace slowed to a stop. They stayed like that for a moment, catching their breath and basking in the glow of their shared release. Frank pulled away, glancing up at her with reverence. She had a blissed smile on her face, and she looked down at him with a contented look. She kissed him once more, and he returned it, their lips moving lazily against each other. She pulled away first, framing his face with her hands as she locked eyes with his.

“Mo ghrá thú go deo,” she whispered, eyes almost glowing as they reflected the flames from the hearth beside them.

You are my love, forever.

They lived peacefully together—Frank nearing the end of his apprenticeship with Robby, and his love began to grow a garden of her own. He would come to find her hard at work planting or weeding. She would always left her head as he was coming up the path, a tired smile on her face as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

“How was your day, a chroi?” he'd ask, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders as he stopped by the gate. She would rise to greet him, wiping the dirt from her hands onto her apron as she neared him.

“Another day come and gone,” she'd reply, placing a kiss to his cheek. “What about yours?”

He'd regale her with the different tasks that Robby had asked of him, noting anything particularly interesting—though those days were few and far in between.

“Come inside,” she'd urge, pulling his hand to follow her. “Come and rest while I finish up supper.”

They were happy for a time, but as time went on, Frank noticed a sadness that began to creep into their home. A year after they were wed, he'd catch her cradling her belly, a forlorn look on her face as she gazed out the window. He'd come up behind her, his arms encasing her as they swayed.

“It'll happen,” he tried to assure her. “These things take some time.”

She would hum, giving him a small smile before returning to whatever task she had been working on.

Their home was filled with love, and for that Frank was thankful. He had seen what a home without love looked like. His parents didn't hate each other by any means, but they had certainly married out of convenience rather than any fondness for one another. Their love was not like the one he knew now, but rather, one that had grown over time and through the hardships endured together.

Domesticity was something Frank quickly grew fond of during their time together, and he found that it soothed something inside of himself that he didn't even know had ached.

He would sometimes find her singing as she tended to her various chores and tasks, and he would stop to lean against the door or the gate or whatever else was nearby as he listened to the sweetness of her voice.

There was a particular time where he had come home early, finding her hanging the wash out to dry. She was singing a favorite of his, and he watched her as she carried on.

“Oh the summertime has come,

and the trees are sweetly bloomin'.

The wild mountain thyme

grows around the bloomin' heather.

Will ye go, lassie, go?

And we'll all go together

to pull wild mountain thyme

all around the bloomin' heather.

Will ye go, lassie, go?”

Frank stepped forward then, a hand to her waist that startled her. He smiled down at her, a gesture that was reciprocated warmly, and he handed her a sprig of sheeps-bit. She accepted the powder blue flowers with the same enthusiasm as all the times before, thanking him with a kiss.

They were happy, but Frank did not expect the sorrow that was to come.

More and more time passed, and still her womb remained empty. He saw the way her eyes lingered on the babies in town or at church, and despite his constant reassurance that it would soon happen to them too.

“What if I,” she paused, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “We should talk to Robby. Just to be sure.”

Frank had agreed reluctantly, if only to assuage her fears, but he wasn't prepared for the news his mentor bestowed upon them.

“I'm so sorry,” Robby had murmured, a sheen to his own eyes as he looked at her. “There's nothing I can do.”

His love had bowed her head, her hands coming up to shield her away from the world as her shoulders wracked and her sobs tore through her. Frank had held her tightly, unsure of what to do in that moment. How could he assure her that this changed nothing when it was all she had wanted?

He had led her home, cooing softly as he guided her to sit in one of the armchairs in the sitting room. He moved to walk away, but her hand shot out to grab his and stop him. He looked down at her, her eyes bloodshot from the tears she had cried, a quiet restlessness buzzing about her as she stared up at him.

“I'll be right back,” he assured her gently, squeezing her hand. “I'm only going to put the kettle on.”

She released him slowly, and he grabbed the blanket from atop the chair to wrap around her.

He had hoped with time that the pain of the news might lessen, but perhaps he was a fool to think otherwise. He did his best to care for her in the days after receiving the news, but he feared he might never do enough to ease that ache that rested inside her.

“I should have known,” she whispered one day. Frank looked over from where he was crouched by the fire, startled to hear her voice for the first time in hours.

“I should have known,” she repeated, her eyes looking far away and glassy. “I'm not supposed to be here. It all makes sense now. Any children I would have cannot exist because I was never meant to be as I am now.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I should have died long ago, and saved everyone the heartache.”

The poker clattered to the floor as Frank rushed to her side, gripping her shoulders in his hands.

“Don't say that,” he hissed, though what he was feeling in that moment wasn't anger—not quite.

“You belong here,” he said, tilting his head to lock eyes with her. “You belong here with me. I don't care that we'll never have a wean of our own. All I've ever wanted was you. To stay by your side and grow old.”

She stared at him, and he took a deep breath, cradling her jaw in his hand.

“Do you hear me?” He asked, searching her for any sign of acknowledgement. “All I need to live a happy life is you by my side. I know it hurts now, and believe me when I say that I would do or give anything to take this pain—this burden—away from you. But, I don't have that power within me to make this right. I will stay beside you, shoulder the pain as much as I can and make it a little lighter for you. But please, don't speak like that again—I cannot bare it.”

Her eyes focused on him for what felt like the first time in a long, long while. Slowly, she nodded leaning into his touch with a flutter of her lashes, and the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease, if only slightly.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Slowly, day by day she began to return to herself, but Frank kept a watchful eye on her still. He saw the way she seemed to drift away, lost in her thoughts. At first he thought that's all that it was, and he allowed her that time to work through her grief.

One winter day, he happened upon her in her garden, her back hunched forward, and it wasn't until he got closer that he realized that she was looking at a finch sat before her. He stopped, watching the pair as the bird chirped up at her, and to his shock, it appeared she was talking back to it.

“Time is drawing near,” she nodded. “Aye, I know this. But what's your price? What must I give you for you to give me a child of my own?”

The bird chirped, and for a brief moment, Frank noted how odd that his wife should be out in the cold—having a conversation with a bird no less. No sooner had he thought it, his wife straightened up, and the bird took off. She whirled around, her feet already moving to follow it.

Frank blinked before chasing after her, his heart pounding almost as loudly as his feet against the snow. Something was wrong, wasn't right. Fear gripped Frank like it never had before as he chased after her.

She plunged into the forest, Frank still a little ways behind her. She seemed to fly across the forest floor, almost as if her feet weren't even touching the ground.

”A chroi!” He hollered, his lungs burning with the effort. “A chroi, come back!”

She paid him no heed, continuing her trek through the forest. The trees seemed to grower taller and closer as they continued forward, as if trapping the two inside.

“A chroi!” Frank yelled again, pushing forward with all his might—willing his feet to move faster. He was gaining ground on her, reaching out his hand, he was only a whisper away from being able to touch her. The clearing was coming up ahead, and something inside him told him it was now or never. He pushed forward just a little more, the trees now dispersing as they entered the clearing. He extended his fingers as far as they would go. Blinking, he lunged forward and-

Frank stumbled forward, almost falling face first into the snow beneath him. He caught himself just before he fell. Looking around, he found that he was alone, a strange crop of mushrooms encircling himself and the ash stump.

“A chroi?” He called out, sure that some sort of trick was being played on him. “Where are you?”

Only silence answered him. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, but Frank refused to return home without her. He walked along the perimeter of the clearing, hoping that she would appear from behind one of the trees to tell him that it had all been a joke.

He made his back to the center, falling back into the snow, his back pressed against the stump as he waited. The cold nipped at his ears and nose, his breath coming out in puffs of steam, and still he waited.

Why was she not answering him? Why had she run into the forest in the first place?

Frank shivered, burrowing into his coat to ease some of the pains the cold caused him. He waited and waited and waited, only getting up to circle the clearing and keep himself awake in case his wife returned. After hours of this cycle, the dawn greeted him, the hint of pale blue lighting up the sky.

Frank's joints were stiff as he moved them. Perhaps his wife had returned home without him. Yes, he thought to himself, that must be the case. Just as he rose from his spot against the stump, a small sparrow landed before him. He looked down curiously, noting that there was something odd about such a creature coming up to him like this. He stared down as the bird began to chirp at him, moving its wings as if trying to tell him something. He said nothing, a sense of familiarity shrouding him as he locked eyes with the bird.

His heart stopped in his chest as the unthinkable dawned on him. The bird ceased its chatter as the pair stared at one another. Tears sprang to Frank's eyes as he searched for his voice.

“A chroi?” He whispered. The bird tilted its head at him before darting upwards into the sky. Frank watched as it flew away, the tears falling freely now. He had been warned time and time again. He had been warned that his happiness would be taken from him, and he had ignored them like the fool he now knew himself to be.

Frank returned to his home, collapsing into a chair in the dining room. The morning light cast an eerie glow around the home that he had once found comfort in. Now, it was too big—too quiet. He had no one to share it with, this he was certain of at least. He stayed there for what felt like days, but was probably only hours. It wasn't until Robby came around to look for him later in the morning that he was drawn from his stupor.

“Frank,” Robby called, the older doctor standing in the doorway with a look of concern. “What are you doing?”

Frank looked over at him, a vacant, dazed look on his face.

“She's gone,” he murmured, not quite believing it himself. Robby's brow furrowed as he stepped forward to crouch before his pupil.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking around the room as if Frank's wife might magically appear. “Christ alive, Frank. What happened?”

Frank did his best to recount the events of the night, still clinging to the hope that he might wake up from the nightmare he now found himself in. Robby frowned when the younger man had finished, running hand over his jaw as he contemplated. He stood wordlessly, walking out of the room.

He was gone a long while before he returned, friends in tow. Frank hadn't moved an inch in the time since Robby had left, and the doctor's worry grew.

“I found him like this,” he said, gesturing toward Frank. “Says his wife turned into a bird and flew away.”

“What?” Frank's father gaped, glancing between the doctor and his son. He stepped towards Frank, the younger man flinching only slightly at the sudden movement. “Frank, what are you going on about?”

“She's gone,” Frank repeated, eyes still looking far away. “She's never coming back. I've lost her.”

“Well,” Frank's father started, pausing in his unease. “It's clear something terrible has happened to her. We should go look for her.”

“We could,” the old farmer, Seamus, said, tears in his eyes to the surprise of those present. “It wouldn't do us any good. She was touched, and her time was up.”

“You can't be serious?” Frank's father sputtered, looking from the farmer to Robby. “Surely you don't believe the man?”

Robby sucked in a breath, pursing his lips as he considered his next words. Frank's mother stepped forward, a solemn look on her face.

“I always warned him,” she murmured. “I always told him that she was touched by the fae. He would never find lasting happiness with her.”

“Have you all gone mad?” Frank's father cried, looking between all of them. “Surely you have enough sense, doctor.”

“I know better than to question the powers that be,” Robby said finally. He spared a glance at Frank. “Do you really think he would

It was ultimately decided that the fae had collected as they had promised twenty five years before, though only about half the town believed that. The other half began to spread vicious rumors about the doctor's apprentice. Frank paid them no mind, too consumed in the grief of his love. He spent most of his days at the pub, drinking away his sorrows until he could feel nothing more.

Robby confronted him one day, desperate to save his friend from the depths of his despair.

“You can't keep going like this,” he had said, eyes hard as they fixed on Frank. The younger man was on his third glass of whiskey, eyes glassy and confused as they tried to remain focused on Robby.

“You have to accept that she's gone, Frank,” Robby pressed, clasping a hand on his friend's shoulder.

“I 'ave accepted it,” Frank slurred, lifting his glass to take another sip of the amber liquid. “But if I 'eep lookin' maybe I'll find 'er.”

“Well you won't find her at the bottom of a glass,” Robby scowled. “Maybe you should try moving on. Try settling down with someone else-”

Robby barely had time to duck as Frank whipped the glass tumbler at his head, the glass exploding against the wall of the pub. The bartender moved to grab him, but Robby held up a hand to stop him.

“It's alright,” he told the barkeep, waving him off. The man shot the two a wary look before moving to the other end of the bar to tend to another customer.

“You've no right,” Frank seethed, unadulterated anger in his eyes. “You've no right to tell me to move on from her. You don't know. You don't know how much I loved-”

He choked on the word, tears slipping down his cheeks as he hung his head.

“You need help, Frank,” Robby murmured. “You can't keep going on like this. It's not good for you.”

Frank said nothing for a moment, instead staring at the wood of the bar.

“I wait for her,” he whispered, glancing up at Robby before quickly looking away once more. “I go to the clearing where she disappeared, and I wait from sundown to sun up. Every week I do it.”

“Do you really think she'll come back?” Robby asked quietly, a pang of sympathy coursed through him as he looked at the man before him—only a shadow of what he once was. Frank shrugged.

“I have to try.”

Try he did, but all Frank was ever greeted with was the quiet stillness of the clearing.

Decades passed, and Frank never remarried. He could never bring himself to move on from the girl he loved wholeheartedly. He locked himself away in the home they once shared, allowing himself to be consumed by the ghost of her. He had gone through her things once, trying to find some clue that might help him bring her back.

He had stumbled upon her diary, and it sat on their shared bed unopened for days before he found the will to read it. the pages were littered with her handwriting, notes of how happy she was with him and her hopes for their future together. For a moment, Frank felt he was sitting there talking with her once more. He smiled at her words, allowing the faded warmth to watch over him. It wasn't until he realized that each section was marked with a flower—the ones he had brought her every day—that the moment broke, and he was reminded of the time that had passed and the time together that he had taken for granted for so many years.

He never finished his apprenticeship under Robby, instead turning to the odd jobs that needed done around town. He'd set enough aside for food and fuel to light the fires in his home, and even then it was never guaranteed. Most of his money went toward his time at the bar, and it was a wonder he managed to make it home as often as he did.

As time went on, Frank got older, and the rumors surrounding his wife's disappearance grew uglier. The younger folk in town would whisper to each other and cast him wayward looks, but he would pay them no mind. Life became a chore for him, and his mind would often wander to thoughts of what life might have been like had his wife not been taken from him.

Frank found it harder and harder to keep up his income. He was now an old man, and his health was failing him. Robby had passed a decade prior, and Frank had mourned him as best he could. Without his friend to help take care of him, Frank now had to rely on the charity of others when looking for his next meal. He had to cut back on his drinking, and the withdrawals had been excruciating, but somehow he had managed, though a part of him had wished they'd put him out of his misery.

It was winter once more, and Frank was now a grey-haired old man, the whiskers on his chin mostly unkempt as was the rest of him. He had a limp when he walked now, and his joints ached from the cold. Something inside of him told him he was not long for the world, and he wondered if the ones he loved had felt the same before their passing.

Frank looked around his house one final time, allowing himself to think about the memories he hadn't allowed himself to visit in years. He took a steadying breath before looking out the window toward the treeline. The sun was nearing the horizon once more. It was time.

He didn't bother locking the door behind him, instead hobbling towards the trees on a path that was familiar to him. Just like they had years before, the trees seemed to bend towards him, closing in around him as he made the journey towards the clearing.

It looked the same as it always had—as if time did not touch the place where he now stood. The brook babbled along as he crossed it, stepping foot over the fairy ring and towards the ash stump. He meandered down to the ground with a grunt, his old bones aching in protest. He situated himself with his back against the stump, preparing for the long night ahead.

Frank had the suspicion that he wouldn't walk out of the clearing this time, but he had accepted his fate. Hours passed, and the cold seeped through him much more easily than it had when he was younger. He nestled into the tattered coat he had brought with him, shivering as the wind blew around him. Sleep beckoned him, but Frank wasn't ready—not quite yet. He fought against it a best he could, his eyes drooping closed as the cold embraced him. The sky was beginning to tinge with that familiar shade of blue he had learned to dread.

A flutter of wings startled him, his eyes shooting open for a brief moment as a sparrow landed just passed the ring of mushrooms on the ground. Something stirred within him as he stared at the bird. There was something achingly familiar about it.

His eyes drooped once more, his exposure to the winter's night becoming too much for his old body. His mind was foggy, his gaze hazy, but he watched as the bird hopped towards the ring. He closed his eyes, the cold dragging him down further and further towards the abyss. The soft crunch of snow had him fighting to pry his eyes open.

He watched, though only a part of him comprehended, the woman slowly walking towards him. Her feet were bare, which he found odd, and she was wrapped in a thin cloth, though she didn't appear phased by the cold and snow around her.

A hand came up to cradle his jaw, her fingers warm against his flesh, and the scent of her was so familiar, that Frank thought he might have died and not even known. She crouched before him, a soft, loving smile on her face.

“It's you,” Frank croaked, and even to his own ears he sounded weak and feeble.

“It's me,” she whispered, the sound of her voice bringing tears to his eyes. Shakily, he brought a hand up to the one cradling his cheek, his time worn hands gnarled and wrinkled in comparison to her own. There were so many things that Frank wanted to say to her in that moment, but all he could think about was how much he had missed her in that moment.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.

“It's time to go home, a chroi,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his.

On the edge of the clearing, a man with cloven hooves for feet and antlers like that of a stag watched as two sparrows took flight. His eyes reflected the stars that clung to the disappearing night sky as darkness gave way to the morning—a day of new possibilities.

He smiled as the two birds echoed their song to one another, flitting through the trees as they chased one other, their cries sounding like laughter if you listened closely enough. They circled the clearing once more before taking off towards the sky, the man's gaze following them until they were no longer in sight. The man turned and disappeared back into the forest.

All was well.

A/N: If you've been around this blog or me long long enough, you know one of the things I love the most is old folktales and myths. The fae are especially interesting to me. I've been wanting to write something angsty for a while now, but couldn't settle on what exactly. I also knew that I wanted to write something for our resident ER Ken doll, but also wasn't sure what. I went and saw Sinners recently (Fantastic movie, please go watch it if you haven't already), and was pleasantly surprised when they sang my favorite folk song. I love how this version because, at least for me, it feels like there's just so much longing in it.

Not long after that, I came across that image of Patrick Ball, and thus the idea for this story was sparked! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - January

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 31.01.2025

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

gif-requests are open, but you'll need to have some patience🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in January with a MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. Eternal Butler 🇹🇼 (5/12)

I really don't like this one that much. Why am I still here? The plot is hiding, the acting is playing catch with the writing. Some emotions are shining through and yet this feels very muh bland.

2. Futtara Doshaburi 🇯🇵 (4/7)

My intention was to talk about what a nice social study this show is. How the lack of sex can make you feel this insecure and lost and that the missing communication is not helping. I wanted to talk about how much Nakarai is longing for some physical touch, some love, not just sex and how this situation is slowly eating him up. And then there was the preview and my mind went "oh." Just "oh". See you next week.

3. I'll Turn Back This Time 🇨🇳 (2/6)

Okay, just time travel this time. Cut the step brothers. I enjoyed this episode and Shen Nan building a connection with Gu Shi Wen. I still don't understand the time travel and the changes that been made because of it, but I hope we get a little more information in the future.

4. Ossan's Love Thailand 🇹🇭 (4/12)

What in the Luigi is happening here? This series is really challenging me. The only thing I kinda like is Mix's acting and the soundtrack. The OST is so funny. The show? Not so much. It is really difficult to watch. Just not my humor.

5. Sangmin Dinneaw 🇹🇭 (5/8)

This series is such a rollercoaster. One moment they are sweet and innocent and the other second they are eating each other! And everyone beside the main couple is just pure chaos. I watch it only half, because I can't watch most of the cringe scenes. And now I am kinda curious what Sangmin's secret is.

6. Study Group 🇰🇷 (4/10)

I like the study group. They are all such characters. And I really enjoy the fight-scenes. So the study group is finally complete and now they are fighting evil bastards? I guess. And I am here for it. But I am so sorry Cha WooMin. Ever since Weak Hero Class 1 I can't like you. You hurt me too much! And now you're a villain again? Damn!

7. ThamePo Heart That Skips A Beat 🇹🇭 (8/13)

Oh you mother of all slow burn! This is pure torture for them and for us! And I love every bits of it! So we finally get Jun telling his intentions (I was right, yeah!) and Thame showed again why he is the greenest flags of them all! He is such a fair player and a loyal friend, who wouldn't sacrifice one or the other, but wants Po to make the decision. Only Jun already knew that Po already likes Thame (and like everyone else knows too). I didn't like the fact that Jun told Thame and Po about their mutual crush, but without him, let's be honest, they would still just stare at each other. And yes, I was screaming at my screen "Just kiss already", but this is such a delightful torture of a slow burn! Really delicious! And we got some hand holding. But Thame... your idea putting Po's hand in your pocket and nobody will know is just dumb. But they hold hands! AHHHHH! And next week... AHHHHHH!

8. The Heart Killers 🇹🇭 (10/12)

Joong really delivered in this episode. His single tears were so good. Fadel breaking down and allowing Style to comfort him, to protect him, to love every side of him was indeed beautiful. The series is not good, but this episode was quite good. But Mama being the bad guy here. Who was surprised? Be honest.

9. Word of Honor 🇨🇳 (25/36)

Yes, I kept watching. Well, this will take me a while to finish, I fear.

10. Your Sky 🇹🇭 (11/12)

The question for me this episode was: Why do you think Rak can't have a happy family and someone who cares about him with Fah? Why do you think he needs a woman for that? The father really annoyed me with his I don't want to talk about it attitude. He is just worried? He wouldn't be worried if Fah was a woman. I understand where they were coming from with this plot line, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. What I still love about this series is the communication, especially between the mains. And that Rak didn't sacrifice his relationship in the end, but he stood by his man and so did Fah. I love them!

Finished in January

Series

Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu 🇯🇵

Somewhere along the way I lost interest. I don't like the trope of noble idiocy and that kinda ruins my wish to continue the series. And while it might fit into the narrative, I still don't like it. And so I didn't like the ending. Well, the ending itself was okay and it felt real. Coming out to the friends and family would have not fit the plot. I liked that about the series. Overall a strong start, a mediocre middle and a weaker ending. I give it a 7 out of 10.

See Your Love 🇹🇼

I went into this without any expectations. And damn, I am so happy I could binge this one. I loved it! They are so cute. The height difference is adorable! The story might came a little bit short, but but the characters and their developments and relationships made this series really enjoyable. I love how enthusiastic Yang Zixiang learned sign language. You could see, that this was important for him. The depiction of disability was good and well performed. The side-couple is the only thing that was not for me. I give it a strong 9,5 out of 10.

Fourever You Project 🇹🇭

I just binged this one. I started for Johan and North and I stayed for them. And for the others beside Hill and Ter. I adore Pond. I loved him in 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us. But this series was not for him. He and Earth have no chemistry together. Perhaps I don't like the typecast of Earth. Most of the times his characters annoy me and he isn't allowed to play an adult. And with Pond there was no spark on my screen. Other with Maxky and Bas. Their characters were goo. The chemistry was good. Their story was good and not that cliche-loaded as HillTer's was. I want to know what is going on with the other two, Tonfah and Arthit. The plot was a college bl. Plain, good ol' college bl. Nothing more nothing less. I admit I skipped most of Hill and Ter's scenes after Johan and North got the lead. I give it a 7 out of 10.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped in January

Looking forward to in January

The Boy Next World - Trailer (Jan 5th)

Ossan's Love - Trailer (Jan 6th)

Call Me by No-Name (Jan 10th)

Impression of Youth (Jan 15th)

The Paradise Of Thornes - Trailer (Jan 22nd)

[kotaabotaa]

I … AM STEVE

Pairing : Steve x Garret from the Minecraft movie

Word Count : 654

Warnings : none!

A/N : I may have gotten a little bored… but hello there!! so, after seeing the Minecraft movie TWICE, I decided to write something stupid about these guys!! YOU CANT TELL ME THERE WASNT ANY TENSION BC THERE WAS. also I love muh luh muh and I wrote this at 3 in the morning.. anywho the theme dividers were from @thecutestgrotto !!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The night following their return from the overworld.

Steve had visited his new friend, Garett ‘the Garbage man’ Garrison’s, home. Blasting rock music while they ate breakfast pizza, reminiscing on their journeys in the overworld. “Hey, Gar Gar?” Steve announced over the music while munching on some tots. Garett cranked down the music, angling his head toward Steve with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, mi hombre?” He replied in a butchered accent. Steve’s lips pursed as he set down his plate, looking anywhere but Garret.

“I was a little devastated after you ‘died’...”

Garret gazed at the other man with a puzzled expression, “Why? I thought you hated me.” A gruff chuckle broke from his lips.

“What? I could never hate you, I just…” Steve huffed, slightly shaking his head as he tried to describe what he felt. “Yeah, I was disappointed about the whole diamond thing, but after everything I knew you were trying to do what's best.” He lifted his gaze to Garrets. Their eyes locked as he continued to speak. “I didn’t have time to process everything because I was finally reunited with Dennis, and I had to prepare the rest of the group to fight–”

Garret cut off Steve as he rambled, speaking up himself. “So, you missed me?” Garret almost teased, setting down his own plate of breakfast pizza. Steve smiled, a blush creeping up on his cheeks, “Maybe a little.”

Garret smirked, scooting a little closer to Steve. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, never breaking eye contact. “Man to man, you are the bravest person I have met… besides me. I think you’re the first person that I have connected with on this level. Thank you for bein’ my friend after everything.” He stated, but Steve didn't seem to look so happy about that.

“Friend?” Steve murmured, a woeful look in his eyes. “Isn’t that what we are, mi amigo?” Garret's smirk faded a bit as he examined Steve's face.

“I just thought…” he trailed off, “never mind,” Steve extended his arm to turn up the music, but Garret’s large hand stopped him. His fingers grazed against the man's wrists.

“Steve,” Garret’s voice was a little more stern. Sure he could be kinda dense sometimes, but he wasn't an idiot. Especially not when it came to Steve. “You thought?”

“I thought we could be more than just ‘amigos’,” Steve's gaze had turned into one of longing, one that Garret had not seen before. Garret's eyes searched Steve’s as silence filled the room.

“The way you touched my face because you thought we would never see each other again, I’ve never been touched like that before.” Steve's words felt heavy on his tongue, but he needed to get this off his chest. “And the way we made that full man sandwich? Gar Gar… tell me you feel the same.” He pleaded.

“I do.” Garret shook his head, his lips parting. “You had my heart when you said ‘I… am Steve’,” and with that the two men embraced each other. A single tear shedding from Steve's eye. “God, you are strong,” Steve said with an emotional undertone in his voice. Garret squeezed him tighter in response.

Garret was the first one to pull away from the hug. Admiring Steve like he was the only man in the world. Steve peered back, a look of love and adoration glazing his features. Before he knew it, he was leaning in. Garret found himself leaning in as well, his hand reaching to move some of Steve's long hair out of his face.

Their lips found each other in a tender, soft kiss. Both of their eyes fluttered shut and their lips lingered for what felt like hours. Steve pulled away, lips still parted. He was met with the image of Garret with his lips still puckered out, eyes shut tightly. In that moment he knew he was in love.

[blackbullet99]

Why (as a Kataang shipper and in general) I don’t like Zutara shippers.

(I promise it’s NOT a Pro-Zutara post and it’s NOT an Anti-Kataang post).

LONG POST INCOMING, but if you have the time, please read. 😁

I’ve been thinking. I don’t hate Zutara.

No, I’m not being held hostage, and I know this kinda goes against my rather vitriolic and brutal response to Zutara shippers, but the ship itself is fine and I’m sure 95% of the shippers are decent people.

I really love Zuko and Katara’s friendship, it’s one of the most interesting unique dynamics of the show. It’s annoying when people say, they’re toxic, or they’re barely friends, or it’s a colonizer ship. Zuko and Katara weren’t toxic by the end of the show, they have a great relationship at the end, they were absolutely close friends, ready to lay down their lives for each other. Zuko WAS a colonizer, but he learned this line of thinking was wrong and actively sought to make the world a better place and save The Earth Kingdom.

That being said, Kataang is definitely indisputably the superior “ship”. We see the two start of a close friends from the get-go, they both have a lot of admiration and respect for one another, they grow to love each other dearly despite their flaws, they support each other constantly. And it’s abundantly clear that not only does Aang love Katara, but Katara loves Aang, some may it’s one-sided, but that’s objectively false, it’s painfully obvious they mean the world to each other, we see their bond get stronger, but they have a strong friendship and bond first and foremost and their romantic feelings comfortably exist within.

When I say Zutara shippers are annoying, entitled, toxic idiots, I’m specifically referring to the very vocal minority of people that seem to dominate ZK shipping discussions on Tumblr.

People like…

the-badger-mole who villainizes Aang and hates a fictional 12 year old to a ridiculous degree. Not to mention has so many objectively wrong takes.

longing-for-rain who villainizes Aang, downplaying his trauma, and is unempathetic to his emotions, but will excuses all of Zuko’s anger and outbursts cuz “muh enemies to lovers”.

eponastory who straight up downplays the very serious effects of genocide and the trauma it causes.

sokkastyles who actually thinks an imperialist play reflects the real Katara, (and yes they think the Zutara means “Zutara should’ve been canon, waah”).

zutarawasrobbed who straight up compared Aang to Ozai.

burst-of-iridescent who invalidates Katara trauma from bloodbending cuz she did it in front of Zuko once, but the evil Aang must’ve forced Katara to stop. 🙄

linnoya-writes who straight up infantizes Aang and adulifies Katara, and then that’s the audacity to put their garbage in the Kataang tag.

miss-sweetea-pie who makes mindless assumptions about people who like Aang, as though people ignore Aang’s faults and he never learns because he’s cute. Which is not only untrue, but completely ignores the fact people ignore and romanticize Zuko’s faults because to them he’s hot.

araeph who not only lies about interviewing Aaron Ehasz, but also says borderline racist stuff like this just to pathetically validate their non-canon ship (this is apparently what Sokka would gain from Zutara becoming a couple).

This idiot who acts like Aang forced Katara to comfort him and Katara apparently never treated Aang as an equal. Not to mention weirdly villainizing Zuko and Mai, because Mai didn’t coddle Zuko (like they claim Katara did to Aang) and Zuko became Fire Lord?

This hateful idiot, who is a straight up genocide denier.

And this racist weirdo who straight up writes slave fanfics about Katara being owned by Zuko. Ew.

It’s these types of people who suck. They’re the most delusional entitled moronic idiots who are fake A:TLA fans with no media-literacy who only care about a middle school ship, so they pathetically mischaracterize Aang, Katara, Zuko and Mai, and whine about Bryke not giving into their desires like the little bitches they are. Screw these guys.

That being said the ship itself isn’t bad, it’s just the vocal minority who ruin it for me. I love Zuko and Katara’s friendship, and I wish the great characters in this great series would stop being mischaracterized.

To anyone who reads this, have a nice day.

[hyolks]

(TW: BODY/ORGANS/NEEDLES!!)

Yo! So I was scrolling down your posts and found the one about Al’s ever-increasing automail body and how you are unsure how many of his organs could be replaced and… I have personal experience with that! What a lovely thing, to go through organ failure and have it be worth it if I can pass on that experience for the sake of ✨semi-realism-maybe-if-you-squint✨

My pancreas failed. Entirely. I have to manually give myself insulin every time I eat, and do calculations for it all; I can eat pretty much anything, but it comes at a price. Something something “equivalent exchange” one might even say.

But anyway, I basically have a mechanical pancreas with a remote control! I inject a 7 day supply of insulin into it with a syringe, and I tell it how much and how frequently to inject manually. It can inject into any spot on the body with a thick enough fat layer, usually stomach, thighs, the flabby parts of your upper arm, etc… note: I was 90lbs when I first went into organ failure, you do not have to be any particular body type/size for this to work.

It’s a very simple concept for the machine, and very simple/limited commands. You could even combine the controller with it and make it so there’s a switch/buttons directly on the injection site that have pre-determined doses.

Insulin has to be kept temperature controlled when in storage too, so that’s a cool thing you could mess around with if he has to keep more than a week supply on him. (This can honestly also just be ignored if it’s too complicated ‘^-^)

Insulin is a hormone, basically a command to tell your body to do something. So this can be applied to certain parts of the brain as well!

I don’t know if this’ll help, or if you’ve already found other inspirations that conflict with it, I just thought “hey, this Al makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if I can project a piece of me onto him I’d be really happy”.

Sorry if that’s presumptuous or weird of me to do >~<

OH MY GOSH DW DW THANK YOU SO MUH FOR SENDING THIS!!!! I SINCERELY APPRECIATE IT !!! i know its very strange to say but i love reading stuff like this and this was truly incredible to receive :")

medication/suppliments 1000% slipped my mind like i cant even BELIEVE it how much i forgot to consider it. i knew that going through an organ transplant also entailed needing to take medication to keep your body from rejecting it, but thats about where i stop with knowledge about regarding organ replacements,, but that is so interesting in your case with how much control and calculation is needed?? I also never thought about how truly indepth/technical mechanical organs would need to be!! especially since our organs just casually do the things they do and having a machine mimic it is more than just hitting "go" ...!! if you dont mind me asking how does it like stay powered, i guess ? :O

THE PRESSURE THAT WOULD BE ADDED IF THEY HAD TIME CONSTRAINTS BC OF MEDICATION..... OOOOOO.... especially with the temperature control.... them traveling through the desert would be so much more perilous !! I really will haveta figure out what he would be taking, if it were insulin or some almagomation (that included insulin of course) that could provide him the nutrients he would be missing out on because his lack of ability to eat/digest food...?

the handwavy science of canon that allows automail to work via nerve connections for motor control definitely like. eases the load a bit? although most of these organs require more function than just motor control... hmmm... REGARDLESS, thank u so mcuh for bringing up manually providing the body with hormones (and additionally nutrients), because no matter how quote unquote advanced the automail is, it wouldnt be able to actually produce the things he needs... process it, maybe? sure? but cannot produce it...!!

you're genuinely so sweet!!! thank you SO SO SO much for sending this in !! it really means so much to me that you can relate to this Al :")!! even though im probably trying to get tooo realistic with this portrayal (given the fact that al is mostly metal OTL) i dont want to like... not consider the things he would have to go through ? i guess? i cant quite figure out the words for what i want to say, but nonetheless!! <33333 thank you!!!!!

[bluezombiefox]

long overdue photo dump ^^

i need to punch something real bad

🍀🐾🍏

[yaekiss]

no thoughts just dragon dan heng in heat being horny 24/7. like you'll have to physically DRAG this man off your dick so he doesn't kill you of exhaustion. i will take my leave now

꩜ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Sub! Bottom! IL Dan Heng, no gendered terms for reader, reader has a cock, mentions of IL Dan Heng having 2 dicks, breeding kink, mating press, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: ANON UR BRAINNNNNN, this brainrot plagued me for like a week as evident from this other ramble I wrote for Dan Heng orz... THE GRIP THIS MAN HAS ON MY BRAIN (and my dick) !! KEEP UR IDEAS COMING ANON (just like how Dan Heng keeps you coming in him I MEAN WHATTT)

Under the influence of his heat, Dan Heng is near insatiable.

You can always tell when his heat is coming up with the way he’s constantly trying to rile you up. Trailing a hand up your thigh under the table when you sit next to him in the parlor car, sinfully whispering about how he needs you inside him right nowwww! He becomes increasingly clingy, dragging you off to his room to cuddle and wrap his tail around you like he’s trying to press every inch of him onto your skin. It’s not surprising if the cuddle session turns a little more heated when he tries to rut against your thigh as he crams his face into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. 

If you thought he was bad before his heat, you’re ill-prepared for the whore he becomes during his heats. Really, it’s as if he can’t live without your dick inside him 24/7, always whining and begging, close to tears when you need to stop and pull out of him to catch your breath. Normally, Dan Heng wouldn’t behave like this. However, one must not underestimate the neediness of a dragon in heat. Need to go shower? It’s ok you can fuck him in the shower, he can suck you off as he kneels on the tiled floor. Need go to the kitchen to grab something to eat? He’s following you and spreading his ass so you can eat him out. Huh, that’s not what you meant??

“Let’s go for hhah… one muh- more round, please [name]!”

It’s a little ridiculous how slutty he gets, all the knowledge he’s gained from the erotica he secretly reads every time he misses you at night is finally getting put to good use. He wants you to fuck him in every position possible but he absolutely loves it when you manhandle him into a mating press, the feeling of you reaching unthinkably deep in him gets him all shaky with lust. The searing grip you have on the back of his thighs as you push his knees up to his shoulders combined with how your length slides into his warm hole has him giddy with pleasure. He’s purring loudly at how your cock hits all the right spots in him and his tail is flicking wildly on the bed. Stuffing him full of your cum isn’t enough, he needs to get bred. 

“Hnngh! You ff- fuck! -feel so sososo good in mE!! Breed me breed me pleaseplease [naME]!”

Nothing is stopping him from wringing out every single drop of cum from you, if you tire easily, no problem, he’ll just ride you! As much as you’d like to complain, the sight above you is fucking gorgeous. Dan Heng has his head thrown back in pure ecstasy, his makeup is smudged, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he moans and cries. When he bounces on your cock, his own dicks slap up against his tummy and he whimpers so beautifully at the added stimulation. His walls clamp down hard on your length to try to milk you for all you’re worth. He doesn’t have to worry about not being able to walk tomorrow because as far as he knows, the two of you will be fucking alllll week! (Dan Heng’s line of reasoning is: No need to walk if all you’re gonna do is fuck uncontrollably like bunnies!)

He only has one thing on his mind: getting bred by you ♡

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[justhereforprettythingsandfanfic]

Stutter

Eddie x reader eddie x reader my very first attempt at fanfic no use of y/n no physical description of reader other than afab. Flight of icarus sort of canon no upside down though. I want to go ahead and start posting I'm not finished and I'm not sure how long the story will be I'll try to update weekly if y'all like it

word count 2518

trigger warnings reader with a severe speech impediment, parent with cancer, dead parent more warnings in later posts

The summer of ’85 Eddie and Wayne are sitting on the porch sharing a cigarette before Waynes shift when an old beat up pick up truck pulls into the trailer park loaded down with boxes. Its you and your dad moving in with your grandma fresh from Texas. You don’t really want to be here you know its going to be too cold in the winter and you’ll have to go to public school terrifying enough on its own you know your dad might not make it to the end of the school year. When he told you he was sick you thought it’d get better but its only been getting worse so here you are in Hawkins Indiana to stay with your last living relative. Your grandma never liked you much always impatient and angry with your stuttering you didn’t miss her much when she moved away only visiting once when you were little. Unpacking seems daunting the drive felt like forever but the boxes need to come in Dad is having a good day so you’ll be unloading together at least. You don’t notice Eddie watching you as you grab the first box out of the back. Grandma opens the door “hey sweetie glad y’all made the drive alright hope you didn’t make your daddy do too much of the work” yo don’t want to respond but know she”ll get angry so you try to stammer out a simple no ma’am that turns into a “nu nu nu nu nu 

no muh  mmm, muh muh ma’am” she sighs at you making you feel small as usual your neighbor and best friend Pete had helped you and your dad with the packing and loading and old Miss Annie from across the hall had packed y’all food for the trip. The rest of the unloading is dad talking to grandma giving her updates and whispering about the cancer you try not to take mind. You make up the couch for yourself after the last box is brought in grandma managed to get a two bedroom trailer when she moved here thinking that you and your dad would follow after her and now she’s right you’re going to miss having your own room but you don’t want to think about what having your own room here will mean. Its a restless sleep dad wakes you up sometime the next day suggesting you bake something miss Annie aught you to do for the neighbors he knows Wayne from when y’all visited last and sometimes Eddie helps grandma with things around the house need fixing. So up you get put up your hair and lose yourself in grandmas kitchen making beignets for the neighbors. Once they’re done dad walks over with you to the Munson trailer “ howdy I think darlene told you we’d be here this week figured we”d introduce ourselves I’m John and this is my daughter” you’re trying to hide behind him and the plate of beignets you don’t want to embarrass yourself or be interuppted but it looks like dad meant it when he said you’re going to have to stop hiding behind him he gives you a look letting you know he wont do your introduction for you it takes some time but you eventually manage to get out your name and you’re starting to tell mr Munson you made the beignets his nephew comes barging through in the middle go your struggle “ I mmmm muh 

muh muh muh made “Oh hey you made these awesome!” He’s so cute and you feel humiliated and angry you shove the treats into his hands turn tail and grab your walkman some tapes and your sketchbook from the trailer you now call home determined to find somewhere to lick your wounds you only walk a little while until you find a picnic table that’ll do for your pity party you know you shouldn’t be so upset its just so hard and he was the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life he probably thinks you’re retarded you turn the volume up on Stiff Little Fingers hoping the earth with swallow you whole. A sudden hand on your shoulder makes you scream and fall forward off the table because you couldn’t just sit like a normal person you’ve definitely scrapped your arms up your scrambling to see who or what just made you wipe out and maybe run for life but when you look up and see mr Munsons gorgeous nephew youre hoping that being on the ground will make it easier to be swallowed now you’re even more humiliated “Oh my god are you okay I wasn’t trying to scare you I’m so sorry are you okay is that bleeding” you take a long breath trying your best not to cry out of frustration “ I I I I its fu fu fu

Fu fu fu fu fu fu fu fu fu 

Fu fine”“Listen Im so sorry I scared you and for being kind of an idiot when you brought those donut things over but I uh I’ll leave you alone”

Now you’re absolutely about to panic he looks like you just kicked his puppy and as much as you kind of want to hide you don’t really want him to leave theres no way you can get something out of your mouth fast enough to let him know that without looking like an even bigger moron than you currently do still sitting on the ground on your knees. You hold out your headphones like a dove with an olive branch. The soft smile he gives makes your insides squirm and then he’s pushing his hair back and wearing your headphones. Hope beats her fist inside your chest with a battle drum beat. Eddie starts head banging a little and hope beats faster. He takes of your headphones and hands them back to you “ super cool you like metal too” drum drum drum

“Th th th th th th th th

Thrash mostly” Eddie is still wearing that soft smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to die. Then just to kill you softly even more he grabs your elbows to help you up “ So I know I said sorry already but I’m definitely sorry for being kind of a jerk and then for being a bigger jerk by scaring you but also your dad seemed kind of freaked out so I should maybe tell you to let him know that you’re okay but also it’d be cool if we could maybe hang out again” your head feels like a lightbulb about to explode from too much electricity and simultaneously feel like a brat for leaving your dad like that, Eddie definitely sees it on your face “ We can totally walk back together we don’t have to hang out or anything” Why cant your voice just work “nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu 

Nu nu nu no I uh I uh huh rrrrrr ruh ruh ruh really huh huh wuh wuh want to ha ha ha ha ha ha ha 

Hang out” “cool thats cool so to your dad first and then I’ll com by like tomorrow or something maybe” its too quick back to the trailer, but you absolutely know you’re going to be writing your first letter to Pete as soon as everyone goes to bed.   

Eddie was pretty confident when he first stayed behind instead of going to LA with Paige, but now that its been a month he was starting to regret his choice a little, but now after meeting you he’s really confident staying was the choice. It kind of feels like fate from a fantasy novel or something equally as cheesy maybe he’s losing mind maybe he should put the joint out. He cant believe after his fumble and scaring you nearly to death you actually want to hang out. He falls asleep excited about seeing you again. His hope are kind of dashed when he walks out of the trailer to see you driving out of the park with your grandma in the passenger seat. Before he can turn to go back inside your dad comes out and starts walking his way Eddie’s palms start to sweat this is probably going to end with him getting a fist in the face or worse. “Hey kid, you got a second to talk to an old sick man” your dad kind of laughs a half hearted attempt  at humor, 

“uh yeah sure of course, Wayne’s sleeping though so uh is it cool if we stay out here”

“Absolutely I remember what its like working nights it wasn’t that long ago”

“So uh you wanna tell me tasty away from your daughter right”

Your dad actually laughs now so hard it almost hurts, poor Eddie sweating bullets is confused and mildly terrified Hopper is gonna be finding pieces of his body in the woods or something

“Well quite the opposite actually as you can certainly tell my girl has a rough time and I’ve been sheltering her probably too much I was wondering if you’re still in high school I’m enrolling her in public school for the first time since kindergarten we’ve been homeschooling ever since but uh anyways so you still go to the local high school right?”

“Unfortunately yeah I’m gonna be a senior again” Eddie kind of thinks he might know where this is going but he cant quite shake his anxiety 

“She’s going to take her placement test, but I want to ask you to maybe look out for her”your dads face is firm like he’s dead serious because he is Eddie reminds him of some of his own friends from Texas as a kid

“I don’t think I’m the person you really want to be asking that”

“ What cause you got long hair and listen to the “devils music””

“Well most people around here aren’t really cool about it”

“You been helping my ma with her garden and yard for how long son and I’ll have you know my hair was prettier than yours ‘fore the meds made it fall out I think I know who I’m asking, but do me a favor and don’t tell her I asked you alright I don’t want her to think I don’t think she can do it I just want to know she’s got at least one person looking out for her” Your dad holds out his hand, Eddie self consciously wipes his palm on his jeans before he raises it to shake hands with your dad.

“I do have one question though I mean well I asked her if we could hang out sometime or whatever, but like would it be cool with you if I took her out to the diner or something” Now Eddie knows he’s going to get punched.

“ You know not to interrupt her, no matter how long it takes her to get her words out and to be kind about don’t look away while she’s talking you can do that, you can take her to the diner.” Your dad nods his thanks and goes back to the trailer. Eddie goes to his own room tiptoeing and being careful not to disturb Wayne. He doesn’t know what to do or how to feel its absolutely insane that he met a girls dad and they actually want him to take her out its insane. Maybe he got sucked into an alternate dimension. He should be doing something productive he should go out and do something but now all he can do is stare at his ceiling and wait for you to come back from your test. His chest hurts hes pretty sure he might actually be having a heart attack. Eddie really really cant believe your dad is actually cool with him and enough that he got asked to watch out for you damn.

When you get back from your placement test you kind of just want to hide in the couch and sleep through the next year. You absolutely do not want any part of public school it looked like a prison and the teacher administering the test was about as warm as you assume a prison warden would be, but at least you only have to do one year. You don’t make it out of the truck before Eddie comes bounding over to open the door for you. Your grandma is not impressed and clears her throat loudly in her distaste so Eddie runs around and opens her door too. You’re kind of frozen in your seat you watch your grandma say something to Eddie before she goes into the trailer and he comes back around to you. Well this is not what he expected you look scared of him again and its clear you’ve been crying. “Oh sorry I just wanted to well you said yesterday you’d like to hang out but its totally cool if you’re not into it.” You’ve got to get some words out you can already feel the lack of air and pain in your chest “tha tha tha tha tha

Tha tha tha tha.” You cant get it out you didn’t want to cry anymore but its coming anyway. Eddie feels incredibly awkward and isn’t sure what to do he starts backing up giving you space he doesn’t want to just walk away but he doesn’t want to crowd you and you have him all sorts of confused. You notice his step back and you are absolutely devastated the first guy you’ve ever even thought was cute the first guy to give you the time of day and you’ve ruined it full on panic attack now theres no air peripheral vision is gone can’t even get out of the seat of the car. Eddie decides the best thing he can probably do is grab your dad for you he has no idea how to handle this he can handle some of the freak outs from his sheepies at school but this is like way out of his wheelhouse. Looks like your grandma beat Eddie to the punch your dad is already walking out onto the porch when he turns around the look on Eddie’s face lets your dad know its bad “hey kid you wanna help me with her or do you need a minute?” “Help yeah yeah I can help” you cant hear anything over your hyperventilating and pounding heart positive this is the time you die and then familiar hands are on your face “pumpkin breath” “big breath pumpkin” “you’re okay” you finally start to match breaths with your dad and realize eddies still there and you want to panic again because you’re once again humiliated. Your dad can definitely tell you’re embarrassed, “its okay pumpkin he said he wanted to help just like Pete and Annie.” You really want that to be helpful unfortunately that just makes it worse, but actually you know it would make sense that your first crush on an actual guy and he’d be gay.

Next

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 30 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: Rhaenyra and the rest of her brood return to King's Landing for the first time in years. Aegon has a heart-to-heart with his least favourate person in the world. Word Count: 4976 CHAPTER WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, mentions of bullying. Very little Valeana in this chapter, sry sry. But Aegon 👀

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT BOTTOM OF CHAPTER. Additionally, I'm not super proud of like 50% of this chapter. This is where my muse started to slip for me, so it's not my best work, and the next few chapters as well. I'm hoping to correct that by proof reading them, but mostly, the next 5 chapters are really me trying to move along the plot.

“Ohhh, I am going to miss these chubby cheeks,” Rhaenyra cooed in a high-pitched voice as she yanked little Valeana Celtigar and pulled her onto her lap. Nearly four years old, the girl was plump as she was adorable, filling Rhaenyra with an almost maternal level of cute aggression. Luke had just been born, another boy, where she yearned for a daughter. Valeana would fill that void until the Mother could grant her wish. 

“May I just have a bite? A wee nibble?” Rhaenyra mimicked a bite at the child’s cheeks, earning her a shriek of mirth. 

“Princess Nyra, no!!” Valeana giggled and wiggled in her grasp. 

The woman mock pouted, “But I won’t see you for weeks. What will I do without my little Valeana? Whose cheeks will I nibble now?” 

The little girl stuck her tongue out between her teeth, mischievous green eyes moving over the large man in the corner, his gold cloak making him stand out even more. “Ser Harwin’s.” 

Rhaenyra looked up at her sworn sword, who’s smile brightened, “Ser Harwin’s? But they are hidden under all that hair. It would taste awful.”

The knight chuckled, shaking his head. 

Valeana covered her face with her small hands, eyes peeking through her fingers, “But you can’t bite my cheeks, Nyra! I need’em!” 

“Oh, is that right? What for, my dear?”

The little girl’s face turned pink from hairline to chin, her eyes tightly closed as she buried her face into Rhaenyra’s soft belly. “Prince Aemond.”

“Prince Aemond?” Rhaenyra repeated, eyebrows turned upward.  

“He-he gives me kisses on’em, before we go to bed.”

Rhaenyra shared a look with Harwin, before looking down at the squirming girl on her lap, a fond smile pulled at her lips. “He does, does he?” 

Valeana nodded shyly, “I like Prince Aemond. He’s pretty, like you!”

“Oh!” Rhaenyra laughed, looking back at Harwin again, a broad entertained grin in place. The man simply chuckled louder, placing his hand over his mouth. “And have you told Aemond this?”

She shook her head, moving her face back into the shield of Rhaenyra’s belly once again, “Noooo… Prince Aegon will make fun of me.”

With a pout, the princess tried to move the girl so she could see her face, “And why on earth would he do that?” 

Valeana’s mouth was pulled into a frown, her green eyes wandering around the room while she tried to control the wobble of her lip, “He doesn’t like me. It’s ‘cause I’m not pretty, like you, or Aemond, or Helaena, or him, or Jacaerys or–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rhaenyra pulled her up so she was sitting properly in the cradle of her lap, and took her face between both of her hands. “I will have none of that. You are just as pretty, Valeana.” 

Though the little girl did not seem convinced. Her large eyes marbled into two glistening peridot gems, “A-Aegon says I’m too f-f-fat to be pretty, ‘n–’n only pretty girls muh-marry princes, and become prin-princess-esses.”

Rhaenyra pulled her into her chest, scoffing at her brother’s cruelty, “My brother is a fool. A blind fool, my darling. Do not listen to a thing he says… You are beautiful, just like your mother, Lysa.”

“R-really?” Valeana hiccuped. 

The princess nodded earnestly, “Of course. You are her very image, just ask Ser Harwin.”

Valeana craned her neck to look up at the knight, eyes puffy and watery, cheeks pink and tear stained, “Am-am I pre-pretty, Ser Harwin?”

The large man sauntered over before bending to his knee next to Rhaenyra, so he could level his eyes with the child. “You are so very pretty, Lady Valeana. Just like Lady Lysa, just like Princess Rhaenyra.” 

Valeana blushed heavily, scrunching up her nose and putting her small hands to cover her face, trying to lean away, suddenly very bashful. Alas, Rhaenyra had a grip on her, and at her darling little display of embarrassment, the princess laughed. 

“It’s those cheeks! They’re just like apples, wouldn’t you say, Ser Harwin?”

“Oh, the juiciest of apples!” 

“Care to take a nibble with me?”

“Of course!”

Valeana squealed as she tried to pull away, but it was too late. The princess and the knight planted their lips on both of her cheeks at the same time, squishing her face. When Harwin pulled away with a chortle, Rhaenyra just kept on kissing the girl’s cheeks, pinching and taking mock bites out of them, all the while Valeana giggled, screamed, and tried to scramble out of her grasp. 

Not long after, Lord Bartimos Celtigar had sauntered onto the terrace, his face stretching out in a fond smile at the sight of his daughter in the arms of the crown princess. 

“Oh, I’d hate to put an end to this lovely display of affection, but alas, Princess Rhaenyra, we are about to leave for the Isle. Ursula is about to give birth any day now.” 

The princes sighed disappointingly, “Of course, of course.” With Valeana still in her arms, she stood up and walked over to the Master of Coin, but before she handed her over, she turned to the little one in her arms and said firmly. “Now, remember what I told you.”

Valeana nodded, rubbing her chubby fist along her reddened cheeks. 

“And if anyone says otherwise, I will send them to Syrax, then they’ll be nothing but toast.” 

The girl giggled mischievously, “Prince Egg-on-Toast.” 

It had only been a day, and yet that was too long. The night he had spent with Valeana was seared into his memory, like a dream he could not stop thinking about. That night, after he released his spend all over her hand, they had cleaned up and laid back in the pillows. She curled up at his side, head laying on his chest as they both looked up at the stars in blissful silence. He didn’t want the night to end, but it eventually did when the sky started to pink along the horizon, and Valeana jolted awake at the realization of how long they had been there. 

In silence he escorted her back to her room, thanking the gods that Floris had not woken up with the looming dawn. At the entrance, he thanked her for an amazing night, and she responded by placing a kiss on his cheek, thanking him in return. 

Aegon spent the better part of that day in bed, fingers tracing the spot where she had kissed him, eyes closed as he reimagined her tits, her face, her hand around his cock. A smirk crawled upon his face then, when he recalled the moment he returned to his bedchambers, peeled off his clothes and noticed the dark stain on his breeches. Blood. 

That was why she did not want to go further. Aegon could have had her that night, had it not been for the Mother’s curse. The fact alone made him hard again, giving him no choice but to summon Hildy so early that morning. Her services aren’t quite done after all… at least for the next 3-5 days. 

Aegon was aware that Valeana would be with his nephew that afternoon, the thought of which drove him to near madness. He needed to see her again, to do it again, but he swallowed down his impatience, and instead went into the pavilions to distract himself. There he reunited with the Redwyne brothers and as a result, found himself in Catelyn’s company. 

He leaned into her ear, and whispered, “Your idea worked like a charm.”

This elated her, turning to him with a bright smile that was infectious, “It did?! Tell me everything.”

Aegon rocked on the balls of his feet innocently, hands clasped behind his back as he started to walk through the pavilions, forcing her to trail next to him. He hummed, a smile curling his lips, “I do not kiss and tell.”

She gasped, “You ki—” Cat cut herself off and cleared her throat, looking around the area to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. People were already watching them curiously, what with Aegon being a Prince, and Catelyn being not his usual company. “You kissed?” She repeated in a whisper. 

Well, no, Aegon realized. They hadn’t… He kissed other parts of her, and her own chaste one on his cheek still made the area warm and tingly. But the realization bothered him more than he thought it would. It was a fact he wished to rectify. 

In the end, he did not tell Catelyn exactly what happened, other than they had a lovely midnight snack and chat, where he made his heartfelt confessions, and she gifted him with a chance. 

One drink became several, as usually was the case, and his jovial time in the pavilions became a pleasant blur. By the time he got back to the Red Keep, it was already too late in the evening to call for Valeana. Besides, he was far too drunk to make any sort of good impression on her father. Aegon was aware that Bartimos already had a sour impression of him, and if he was going to marry Valeana, then he would have to – somehow – get on ol’ Barty’s good side. 

Aegon barely had his tunic off when his mother entered into his chambers, completely unannounced. She had a tendency to do that, particularly when she was contrite with him over something he wasn’t even aware that he had done. 

“Mother,” he threw his head back, too tired and too inebriated to coherently greet her properly. His hands rubbed his eyes before he regarded her through his exhaustion, “One of these days, your intrusions will be awarded by the unseemly sight of your son rutting into—”

“Enough!” Her face reddened, from anger or embarrassment over the mental image he had just painted, or likely both. “I had come to you this morning, but your guard told me you were occupied.”

Aegon smiled slyly, “Very.”

The queen scoffed at her son, turning sharply away as she rubbed her fingers to her temples. She paced around the room like that, only aggravating Aegon, who longed to be nude and in his bed. 

“Would you please just berate me already? It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

His mother finally stopped her pacing, moving her hands from her head to her hips, “What are your intentions with Lady Valeana?”

The bluntness and the seriousness of her tone was enough to sober him. Aegon wobbled back, as if a blow was made at him. To steady himself, he placed his forearm on the post of his bed, and leaned against it. 

“Did we not already have this conversation?” He peered at her in confusion. “You told me to stop pursuing her, threatened to chain me to my rooms, and I completely ignored you?”

“Aegon,” her tone was a force in its steadiness. Alicent strode over to him, and despite being shorter, it still felt like he was under her. Like he was still a child. “Tell me the truth, for once in your bloody life. What. Are. Your. Intentions?” 

Aegon’s mouth fell into a pout, his red rimmed eyes stared back at her like a reprimanded puppy. Alicent never swore, he would remember if she did. His mother had a knack for making polite words sound as lethal as a Valyrian steel blade. 

“To cour–” She did not allow him to finish. Alicent’s hand grabbed his face firmly under his jaw. 

“I said I want the truth of it! That girl is under the impression you are fond of her, but I know my son! She is the daughter of a noble house, not some common maid that you can use to exercise your depravities with!”

Aegon wretched his face away from her hand, his brows pulled downward in a twisted look of annoyance and outrage. The logical part in his brain does not blame his mother for reaching to the conclusion that he had ill intent, but what hurt the most was that she could not simply imagine Aegon actually being soft on a girl. That the very idea was improbable on every plain of existence, because Aegon simply could not feel with anything other than his dick. 

“I am fond of her!” He shouted, backing away from his mother. His frustration mixing with the alcohol in his veins created a boiling point; he was so fucking tired of his mother thinking so little of him. “And my intentions with Valeana Celtigar are pure. Why is that so fucking hard to believe?”

Alicent momentarily looked taken back by the intense sincerity of his voice, which cracked with emotion and exhaustion. The Queen shook her head, “You cannot attach yourself to that girl, Aegon. You know you are intended to marry your sister–”

Aegon scoffed loudly, throwing his head back, “Mother! Stop this! Father does not wish for me to marry Helaena, and we do not wish for it either! For once in your life can you just be happy for me?” 

The question had rendered Alicent speechless, if only for a prolonged moment. His mother’s eyes, wide, dark, glistened with unshed tears (of guilt or aggravation, he could not tell) as they darted between his desperate violet ones. 

“I cannot help but conclude,” she began to speak, her voice lower than before, almost delicate and methodical as if she was trying to soften a blow. “That you only fancy the girl because she belonged to your brother, and you know he wants her back. How can I be happy for one son, when it is at the expense of another?”

Aegon’s anger was quickly boiling over, evident by the reddening of his face and the trembling of his fingers. He longed to grab something and throw it at her, but instead he settled for taking a forceful step in his mother’s direction, and angrily pointed in the direction of Aemond’s quarters, “AEMOND DOES NOT DESERVE HER! He does not deserve the happiness that she brings. He pushed her, mother, broke her fucking leg clean off, and then treats her like the scum of the earth, and yet you stand here and tell me that his happiness is more deserving than mine?!” 

“Aegon, that is not–”

“I will not hear it, mother! I will hear no more of it! I will not marry Helaena, and I will not be your fucking king! You and grandsire’s selfish ambition will ruin my life no longer. I will marry who I chose, and as soon as Valeana Celtigar is my wife, we will fly to the Free Cities, away from this bleeding place. Away from father, from Rhaenyra, from Aemond, from grandsire. Away from you!” 

With people from all four corners of Westeros collecting around King’s Landing, there was always a very audible chorus of gasps, claps, and some screams whenever dragons flew over the city. Even if it became somewhat of a common occurrence, with nearly all dragonlords in attendance for the Royal Conclave, and the looming presence of the Cannibal that had to be deterred every two to three days, the sight never got old for spectators. However, there was a particularly louder reaction the morning that Princess Rhaenyra arrived. 

Gone for many years, the heir to the Throne’s return was heavily anticipated. None knew if she was going to come at all after the tragedy of her daughter’s untimely death. But the Conclave was not the only thing that drove Rhaenyra back home; her duty to her sons was paramount, their marriages needed to be secured to good houses, and not only that… Vaemond Velaryon was going to petition to be the Heir of Driftmark, robbing Lucerys’ inheritance. The very inheritance that his grandfather wanted for him. But alas, the Sea Snake was not conscious, and he continued to toe the line between life and death. 

The golden Syrax glided over the ramparts and roofs of King’s Landing, followed by the smaller Moondancer, and lastly the large Meleys, the Red Queen. While they descended onto Rhaenys’ Hill and into the Dragonpit, ships bearing the black banners of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the turquoise colours of House Velaryon docked into the bay. 

The princess’ return was met with a grand reception on her way to the Keep. In the wheelhouse, the Princess sat with Rhaenys, Baela, Rhaena, Joffrey, Aegon the Younger, and her little Viserys on her lap. Joffrey, at three and ten, had spent most of his formable years at Dragonstone, so his return to King’s Landing felt more like the first time. He peered through the carved peepholes that windowed the corners of the wheelhouse, marvelling at the people who showered them with flower petals, and waved black and red flags. There were some that were not so joyous, however. For every ten, there was one brave, mad man or woman who shouted ‘dragon whore’ through cupped hands, which Joffrey chose to ignore with a stiff swallow. 

Rhaenys was watching her cousin’s daughter closely throughout the ride. For years, she had strongly suspected that Rhaenyra and Daemon had a hand in Leanor’s murder. However, prior to their departure to the capitol, in Nyra’s desire for Rhaenys’ presence in King’s Landing, the younger princess had gifted her not only the truth, but an offer of betrothal between Rhaena and Lucerys. There was some doubt in Rhaenys’ mind that perhaps Nyra was simply placating her heart into believing her son was alive and happy somewhere across the narrow sea, because she needed the woman to advocate for her. Vaemond’s shadow loomed in the harbour, preparing himself for the petition for the inheritance of Driftmark, which would take place sometime past midday. Hardly enough time for a proper reunion amongst family and friends. 

Despite her doubts, however small or large, Rhaenys felt compelled to put her trust in her cousin’s hands. Her granddaughters were her blood, and she would much rather see one of them as Lady of Driftmark than her husband’s nephew. Though that alone isn’t all that steered her, but also the knowledge that Rhaenyra and Rhaenys walked the same path. They just ended up in different destinations. Rhaenys saw herself in the younger princess, had she been the Queen That Ever Was. 

When they arrived at the Keep, it was not in the Throne Room, but rather in the intimate Small Hall, which was vacant of even courtiers for the reunion. As soon as the crow princess entered, she immediately saw the new masonry, the new frescos, the new tapestries, where they once depicted dragons and scenes of Old Valyria and the Conqueror’s victories, now showed images of the Seven. She shared a look with Daemon as he approached her along with her two eldest. 

The princess swallowed her displeasure over the change of her home, but instead smiled when she reached her sons, placing a hand on each of their cheeks. 

“Have you two been behaving?” 

Luke grinned mischievously, “Better than most.”

Rhaenyra pinched his cheek for his sass, and then looked over at Jace, maternal seriousness now taking over. 

“And have you done what I’ve asked?”

Jace nodded, sucking in his bottom lip, “I have, mother. Though I wish to converse with you. There has been a…” He casted a look over at his brother, and then his step father. “Development.” 

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to inquire further, but it was at this time that King Viserys, Alicent, and her half siblings entered the room. Immediately, her spine went ram-rod straight, but her face was soft when she came into her father’s awaiting arms. 

While her conversation with her father was not forgotten, it was the moments of tenderness she spent with Alicent during her short visit to Dragonstone that also plagued Rhaenyra’s mind. Her mind was so heavy, and yet she still had the burden of mourning on her shoulders, as was evidenced by her black gown and the veil she had pinned to her braids. 

The dual kisses she shared with Alicent upon their cheeks was brief, polite, but full of unspoken emotion. Alicent looked at her with sympathy, seeing a mother still grieving, and a friend she had lost. Rhaenyra’s own eyes held longing for their youth, their past, and empathetic sadness for a betrayal that Alicent was not aware happened.

Her four half siblings were met with almost forced pleasantness. With Helaena, it was genuine, even going as far as thanking her for her attendance at Visenya’s funeral. With Aegon and Aemond, it was stiff. Despite Aegon being her first sibling, and therefore he had been in her life the longest, there was little to no sisterly devotion. He would always be a symbol of Alicent’s treachery to their friendship. But, still, she at least attempted. 

“My,” Rhaenyra placed her hands in front of her, “The last I saw of you two, you were boys, barely on the cusp of manhood. Now here you are, taller than your eldest sister.” 

Aegon smiled sardonically, his eyes glancing down at her wrist, “Glad to see your arm healed nicely, sister.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him, twisting her lip before she looked up at Aemond, her tongue tied now that the elephant in the room was acknowledged. The last time she saw them was the day Aemond lost his eye, at the hands of her son. 

“Aemond,” her shoulders straightened as she looked up at him. His eye not afraid to hold her gaze, and she didn’t expect otherwise. He was the one made of stronger meddle, never allowing his emotions to breach his armour. Even when the accident happened, he stood strong for his mother, who had cracked so brilliantly under her grief. “It pleases me that you are doing well. I have heard you’ve been taking great care of Vhagar; she has chosen her rider well, it seems.”

She knew her words would wound her more fragile step-daughter, but it was the truth, and Rhaenyra sought to seek out peace with the brother she wronged the most. She loved Rhaena dearly, but she lacked the disposition for a beast like Vhagar. She might be the splitting image of her mother, Leana, but she did not have the same ferocity that it took to be a rider of Visenya Targaryen’s war-seasoned she-dragon. 

There was a ghost of a crooked smile on Aemond’s lip, though it was barely there to be noticeable by anyone else. He gave a nod of his head, and simply replied with: “Thank you, sister.”

Then there was the final brother, the one who she hadn’t met, who was, by all accounts, an actual stranger. And yet it was Daeron who greeted her with a smile wide and inviting, an infectious one that Rhaenyra reciprocated. 

“And who is this handsome young man before me?” She tilted her chin up at him, tall and gangly as he was. Daeron was toned and handsome, but still had yet to shed the softness of boyhood. 

“Sister!” Daeron all but launched himself into her arms, taking her off guard. Her hands hovered over his back, her eyes wide in her surprise. Aside from Helaena, Daeron was the second sibling she had ever hugged, and that thought brought up a sadness she had not realized she harboured. Her arms gently folded over his back, palm slowly moving up and down. “It is such a great pleasure to finally meet you at last, Rhaenyra.” 

When she pulled away, she could now see the resemblance she shared with him; their smile was similar, their eyes the same shade of violet. “It is a joy to see you too, Daeron. The last time I saw you, you were new to the world.”

Daeron bowed his head, and moved his hands to hold hers, “I wanted to give you my deepest condolences on your loss, sister. I cannot imagine your pain, but I have been praying to the Seven for you, hoping you may find peace.”

Rhaenyra gave him a sad smile, moving her hand to his cheek, “Thank you, my brother. I appreciate your warmth and kindness.”

While her sons greeted their step sisters warmly, the reception the girls and Joffrey gave their uncles and Queen was stiff, not unlike her own. Daeron, however, was pleasant, either oblivious to the tension or decided to rise above it. Either way, it was enough to ease the strain, at least with everyone other than Aegon and Aemond. Her two eldest brothers lingered on the fringes of the crowd, eyeing their estranged family warrily, only speaking when spoken to through tight smiles that didn’t meet their eyes, or curt nods. Rhaenyra was also painfully aware that they did not even look at each other, and whenever Alicent seemed to make a move towards Aegon, he would shoulder his way through the bodies to find someone or something to distract himself with.

Rhaenyra trailed over to her husband, standing at his shoulder, “Do you mind enlightening me about what is going on here?” Her question was directed to the obvious thick atmosphere. 

Daemon opened his mouth, but at that moment the doors opened and a Kingsguard announced the arrival of Lord Bartimos Celtigar, and his family. Instead he smiled broadly and turned to his wife, “I believe that should answer your question.” 

And just like that, Rhaenyra noticed the sudden shift in the room. She watched her brothers’ visible change in demeanor as the doors opened, and the Celtigars marched through in a line, eldest to youngest. Aemond’s back went ramrod straight, but his face seemed to soften, his lips the only thing moving with a slight twitch at the ends of his mouth. He was trying to contain himself, unlike Aegon who had moved away from the crowd so he could be on the front lines, grin uncontained, unashamed. 

Then Rhaenyra saw why, walking behind the tall, willowy Floris Grafton. The little figure of Valeana Celtigar appeared, wearing her family’s colours of red and white. Cheeks still soft and pink, hair impossibly long and white, but she was now older and womanly, and very distinctively Valyrian. 

Targaryen. 

The princess shared a look with Daemon, who was nothing but amused, “You’ve come just in time to witness a war of hearts between kin.”

Her only response was a tilt of her head, because before she could question more, Bartimos was in front of her, bowing his head. Another round of greetings were met, some a second time since Dragonstone, some for the very first time. Rhaenyra took special attention at the familiarity she saw between Daeron and Shyla, but when Aegon crowded Valeana the moment she separated from her family, Rhaenyra’s eyes were glued onto them. He whispered something in her ear, she smiled bashfully, but then her eyes flickered over to Aemond, who was watching her with his hands clasped behind his back, an unreadable emotion simmering behind his single eye.

Rhaenyra migrated over to Jacaerys, mind still lingering on the interaction between her two eldest brothers and Valeana, who now was meeting Rhaena and Beala for the first time in many years. 

“Is this the development you speak of?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

Jace smirked, shaking his head, “Part of it, but no. Lady Valeana and I spoke at length yesterday… Once we get a moment, I wish to speak to you and Daemon about it. But suffice to say, mother, I do not believe she and I are compatible.” 

“Hm,” Rhaenyra pursed her lips before giving a small nod. “At least I know it has nothing to do with her appearance.” 

Jace scoffed in good humour, “No, not in the least.” 

The princess stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Instead she moved through the crowd of Valyrians to finally meet Valeana for the first time in a decade. When Baela spotted her step-mother’s presence, she stopped talking mid sentence, which made Valeana turn around after sensing her silent interruption. 

“Princess Rhaenyra,” she curtseyed with a polite smile, though the edges twitched at her attempt to contain a grin. It was clear that little Val still remembered the memories she shared with her, and for that, Rhaenyra was grateful, now more than ever. 

“Lady Valeana,” her hands reached out to hold onto the young woman’s, her smile full of fondness, though her eyes were pensive as she searched Valeana’s face, trying to find traces of herself, of her father. It was impossible to tell, Valeana looked like Lysa Lannister with silver hair and soft curves. Still, there could be a chance… A possibility that the girl in front of her was her sister. Rhaenyra swallowed at the thought. 

“You have blossomed into such a beautiful young woman.” her hands moved to the sides of her face, her thumbs gently rubbing her cheeks, “And perhaps a princess, by the end of this season.”

Valeana blushed deeply, her eyes flickering over Rhaenyra’s shoulder, to someone behind her, and then looked down shyly, “You flatter me, my Princess. Though I am not so sure if the title suits me as much as it does you, or Helaena.” 

Rhaenyra briefly recalled the conversion she had when the girl was barely older than babe, wiggling around in her arms, trying to get away from the princess’s affection. She turned around, spotting the faces of her brothers, both of whom quickly looked away from her when she made eye contact. Then she moved her eyes to her father, who caught it immediately, conveying many words with just the simple gesture.

Sighing, she turned back to Valeana, her hands now moving to the flow of her wavy white-gold hair, “It fits you more than you realize.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE SNEAK PEAK Narrowing her eyes, she decided to press further, a little more boldly, “Are there any more whispers about me?” At their collective confusion, she added, “Only because you two seem quieter than usual, and I’m starting to wonder if you’ve learned something unsavoury that I should be concerned about.”  Ellyn’s cheeks went pink, her eyes darting from Wylla, to the grass she was picking and peeling. They both shook their heads and cleared their throats. 

Notes: *IMPORTANT NOTE FOR NEXT WEEK* So, because next week is Christmas, there won't be an update next Saturday, because I'm going to be quite busy with family obligations, and I'm not gonna even have time/energy to proof read. So this is the last chapter of the year, and the next one will be out January 4th! But, I'll still be around, and hopefully by the next two weeks, I'll have pumped out a couple of chapters to get a head of my schedule so I can work on that sad Aegon One-Shot. In the mean time, I hope everyone has a happy, safe holiday and new year!!

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[damnfandomproblems]

Posting a compilation of responses to Fandom Problem #6020.

Anon:

If you want representation, create your own story Fandom is not activism

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Anon:

Except you people almost never racebend white characters. You racebend other minorities. You racebend anime characters with Japanese names who live in Japan and speak Japanese and have their whole family live in Japan with Japanese names and speak Japanese and claim that the original character was "white." You take characters who are half-black, half-white and say they "aren't black enough" and make them completely black, racebending the white parent ONLY for the sake of racebending their kid. You racebend half-black, half-Asian characters for the same reason, they "aren't black enough." The overwhelming majority of people who complain about racebending don't care about a character's race, they're pointing out YOU'RE ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY DOING THIS TO CHARACTERS WHO ARE OTHER MINORITIES, WHO DESERVE REPRESENTATION TOO, WHILE SLAPPING IRL PEOPLE WHO MATCH THE DESCRIPTION OF THE ORIGINAL CHARACTER IN THE FACE!!!!!!!!!

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Anon:

I am pretty sure that modern fandom was not created specifically by POC. It was created by majorly women who were really into Star Track, completely unrelated to any skin colour any of them might have had

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Anon:

“BLACKWASHING IS DONE WITH RESPECT AND LOVE FOR A CHARACTER AND THEIR FANDOM.” No, it’s done out of hatred of white people. If you really loved this character, you’d love him or her as a white person. If you can’t love a white character, you are racist.

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Anon:

Re: every single moronic anon screaming "BlAcKwAsHiNg IsN't ReAl YoU'rE jUsT rAcIsT, aNyOnE wHo SaYs AnYtHiNg BaD aBoUt RaCeSwApS oF bLaCk ChArAcTeRs Is RaCiSt! RaCiSt!! RaCiSt!!!": On twitter right now people are throwing a fit over official splatoon art of Marina having a slightly lighter shade of brown than normal. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN!! Miss me with this fucking bullshit! You clowns have said this for a decade now and EVERYONE can see right through you! Every time some artist draws a brown character one hexcode lighter because GOD FORBID ANY OF YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THAT LIGHTING EXISTS OR THAT MAYBE PEOPLE WANT TO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT SHADES, there's a goddamn TIDAL WAVE of THE STUPIDEST, MOST HATEFUL PEOPLE YOU'LL EVER MEET screaming MUH RACISM at the top of their lungs. Harassing artists minding their own goddamn business (ESPECIALLY if they're from Japan!). Smugly taking the art and darkening with that utterly insufferable "Heh, I fixed it :)))" passive-aggressive attitude. Don't you sit there and fucking lie to me, you little shit. I've been on this hellsite since 2012. I've seen every single one of these """whitewashing""" controversies you neanderthals start and every single one of them has accomplished nothing except drive people away, piss them off, or inspired them to make ACTUAL Whitewashed art to show you what Whitewashing actually looks like and also to MOCK YOU. This is not pissing on my leg and telling me it's rain, this is grabbing ten of your buddies, telling them chug a gallon of water, circle around me, whip out your cocks, shower me in gold and then casually mock me for not taking an umbrella because "oh man it's so stormy out :)" Also Japanese twitter has had enough of your shit and they're criticizing you for acting this way and then shamelessly redrawing their characters as being black and acting like that's how they're """supposed""" to be because Asians just aren't """POC""" enough for you. Don't ever call anyone a "Colonizer" again, because that kind of shit is GENUINE Colonizer mindset because you self-righteous shitheads disrespect other cultures and can't leave people the fuck alone. THAT is why people get mad at you. It's not racism. It's NEVER been racism; it's because you're all insufferable twits who harass everyone around you over NOTHING and then have the GALL to be FLAGRANT HYPOCRITES ABOUT IT with an obvious double standard! Build a bridge and get the FUCK over yourselves!

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(Mod note: I'm unsure if this was intended as an independent submission or a response to the same problem, I'm assuming it's a response due to the timing and am posting as such.)

Anon:

One thing I find EXTREMELY odd about a fandom I am in surrounding an anime I like is the racewashing/blackwashing art, now I'm not gonna get into my opinions on racewashing because wether you support it or not you have to admit what I'm about to say seems really dodgy In this anime there are multiple main characters of mixed race, majority of them being half european half japanese, I'm not sure how much representation of mixed people there are in anime but I can only really think of 3 anime where there are main mixed race characters, most of them only having 1 or 2 mixed race characters, but the anime I am talking about has about 4 mixed race main characters For some reason this fandom absolutely loves to racewash these mixed race characters and barely does it to any other characters. They always make them fully black (not even blasian) and they say they do it to add "more black representation" to the anime Now there are many reasons I find this dodgy, 1 being that of course they only ever do this with the mixed race characters, (or at the very least these are the most popular characters to do this to) not the fully asian characters, not the fully white characters, not to any character of any other race/ethnicity, not even the non human characters who don't have a canonical race/ethnicity, only the mixed race characters Apparently a lot of other fanbases with half white half japanese main characters have these problems too, and a lot of real life mixed people say that the people who only ever racewash mixed characters imply that these characters are "too white for them", which is of course a very racist thing to say about mixed race people who are half white Another reason I find this odd is that, A. A lot of the anime is set in Japan, so of course a lot of the characters will be Japanese or half Japanese, and I'm not saying that there aren't black people in Japan, but obviously majority of the people who live in Japan are Japanese B. There are black characters in the anime! Main characters too, now I can't speak on how good the representation is as I'm not black, but from what I can tell a lot of black people love this anime and the black characters (not to mention a lot of the people I see who racewash the mixed characters are not black, most I see are white people) so I don't see the need to add more representation to the anime by racewashing non black characters, let alone racewashing the mixed race characters who also seem to have a small amount of representation in anime. Like at the very least if someone wanted to race swap a character they'd do it with one of the many white characters and not the mixed race characters, or at the very very least they'd make the mixed race characters blasian and not fully black, or draw the non human characters who don't have canonical races as humans and make them black or any race they want, like I don't get why they're so obsessed with making mixed half white half asian people fully black In conclusion: this whole thing just confuses me and gives off extremely dodgy and racist vibes