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bosbas · 5 months ago

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Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

“Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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dumbkiri · 3 months ago

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𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 3

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Please follow part 3 of Helaena!! AI love the character so much and I find almost nothing of her, the reader and Balerion have me ecstatic too!! You make art! Thank you for your attention :(

Yes! Please have Rhaenys and [Name] kill Aemond in the next part! On my hands and knees begging! Save The Queen Who Never Was!!

I apologize for the dragon fighting. I watched S2EP4 like 5 million times to describe dragon fighting, but my brain no work with that. As stated before, I am NOT familiar with GOT or HOTD (watched in once years ago), this is all made on the fly for a dear reader. So I apologize if it's "stupid" or terrible writing. But I will continue to write this for others that enjoy this series. Thank you for following along on this new journey.

There's also a sneak peek to a Targaryen x Stark story in the future....Sansa deserves love too.

The crackling of fire and the ocean waves crashing at the bottom of the cliff filled his ears along with the breeze combing through his hair. And the voice from the fire, which he normally heard on occasion, had been quiet for a long time. Tonight had to be different because of the strong need to light a fire in the night.

Before Rhaegar died, the Lord of Light spoke to [Name] many times. Made the father devoted to his children because one of them was going to have a son powerful enough to defend the North from the long night. [Name] thought Rhaegar would have been the one to have that son.

Obviously, he misinterpreted the Lord of Light. The son could come from Viserys’ line or maybe [Name] would have to have more children with Helaena to secure the prophecy from the god. Still, the voices stopped after Rhaegar. He thought he must have failed the god, disappointed the deity because he did not protect Rhaegar. Or get revenge for his fallen son.

“I heard that you speak to the fire, uncle.”

[Name] lifted his head from the burning fire and saw Jacaerys making his way over to the edge of the cliff where he sat by his lonesome.

A chuckle slipped past [Name]’s lips and he swept his legs over the edge of the cliff. “I speak to the Lord of Light, nephew,” His response was quick and to the point. Some people like his brothers described [Name] and Helaena to be odd; one spoke to the fire and the other spoke in cryptic messages. Aegon would tease and say that they were a special couple. The word special did not come from the heart, but Aegon’s way of saying simple.

“I’m not sure I heard of that god before, it’s not any of the Old gods or even the Seven,” Jace pointed out expertly while taking his seat, the same way his uncle did, the small fire between them.

“You’re right,” [Name] looked out towards the sea, the moonlight casting a blue hue onto the calm water, “I only experienced his existence in Essos when a Red Priest spoke to me with her alluring tongue.”

Jace snapped his head at [Name] and asked daringly, “Alluring? Did she get you in bed with her too?”

“What?” [Name] leaned back in offense then looked over at his family member, “I’m hopelessly obsessed with Helaena, Jace. I’m devoted to her and her body, no one else can satisfy me, not that I would want them too.” The man turned to the fire when a stick broke in half. Lead Jace into the fire, let him see. [Name] felt a strong pull at his chest and his eyes drew over to his nephew when he spoke up.

“So a red woman showed you her god and now you serve him?”

“That’s not how I started serving him,” [Name] admitted quietly, thinking back to the night of his commitment. The vision he saw in the fire, the voices he heard all convinced him to serve the red god. “She found me tending to Balerion’s teeth after a battle with some assassins. I don’t like the smell of burning bodies, especially ones that linger between his molars.”

As [Name] told his story, the fire subtly grew hotter between the males.

…

“Open wide, Balerion,” [Name] walked in front of his grumpy dragon with a bucket of sea water and a shirt from one of the dead men on the beach. Balerion huffed into [Name]’s face and turned away from the human with a disinterested groan.

Reeling back in disgust from the smell, [Name] covered his nose with his forearm and pointed at his dragon with his free hand. Voice muffled, but loud, [Name] shouted, “Where are your manners? I’m doing a nice thing for Dreamfyre and myself! No living thing wants to smell your tarnished breath!”

[Name] set the pale down and approached his dragon with a tired look on his face. He was warned about traveling to Essos for pleasure, but he wanted to get out of the castle. He wanted to stop hearing schemes and breathe for once. The air he caught flying was enough to fill his lungs and cleanse them.

Yet one last stop on the beach almost got him killed.

“Your dragon is very beautiful.” A woman’s voice startled the dragon and the rider, both snapping their heads to see the new person on the beach. She wore a red dress with her long dark hair cascading down the front of her chest. She held no weapon to his knowledge and her hands were placed in front of her.

Balerion’s throat clicked in unease and he lifted his head off the sand, some grains falling onto [Name]’s defensive stance.

“Give me one good reason why I should command my dragon not to burn you like I did the rest?” [Name] asked, his bloody hand gripping onto the handle of his sword. Skeptical of the woman, he didn’t let his guard down. If she was the one that sent the assassins, he would drag her by the hair and drown her in the sea.

The woman in red smirked and answered, “I am not your enemy, Prince [Name]. I came here to help you realize your potential in the upcoming war between your families. You are to be a formidable ally, one that can bring balance.”

[Name] scrutinized her and gently commanded Balerion to stand down. His beast chuffed and set his head down back onto the sand. Then [Name] looked at the bucket of water, dunking the shirt into it.

In his crouched position, [Name] began his interrogation, “Upcoming war between my families? There is no war, my lady. What are you insinuating?”

He noticed she was staring at his sad campfire and she asked quietly, “Your fire has dwindled, might I rekindle it?”

“I asked you a question,” [Name] stood up and wringed the shirt of excess water, “answer it.”

The red woman nodded her head and approached his campfire, she messed with the stick and dry grass, explaining, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, my prince, but your father has passed away. With his dying breath, he told your mother that he wanted Aegon to inherit the throne. She-”

“Aegon?” [Name] scoffed and his face scrunched up in confusion, “That’s not right at all. My father has always wanted my sister to have the throne, for many years he’s always been adamant that Rhaenyra succeed him. Even if he suddenly changed his mind, why would it be Aegon and not me, the oldest, to inherit it?”

The campfire burst into flames and [Name] looked at the woman who conjured up fire with only her hands. She looked into the fire and said, “Your mother believes otherwise, insisting that your father spoke Aegon’s name. The Hightowers have usurped the throne and war will follow in the days to come.”

[Name] rested his hand on the upper lip of Balerion and paused for a second. Aemond was going to be crowned King, taking the throne away from their father’s true successor Rhaenyra. His mother, Alicent, couldn’t be this dull to really believe he said that on his deathbed. Even when he and his brother were born, Viserys never named either of them heir.

“My prince, please join me by the fire, I have something to show you,” The red woman’s voice spoke smoothly and [Name] blinked his eyes to focus back onto the beach. As if he was entranced by the color of the fire and the warmth from Balerion, [Name] removed his hand from the dragon.

He walked over to the woman and Balerion groaned in protest, watching his rider carefully. The beast didn’t trust the red woman yet and it showed when he bared his teeth as the woman reached for his rider. She moved her hands back and smiled at the dragon letting the beast know she won’t lay a finger on his rider.

“Look into the fire and tell me what you see.”

[Name] kneeled down on one knee and did as he was told. He felt completely different from the fire. He saw images of a long winter, a sword of fire, a white dragon that breathed blue fire and a boy from his line in the future. Then he saw people made of ice with blue eyes, a marriage with a Stark girl, and the long night that engulfed the north.

“Do you see now, my prince,” The red woman whispered in his ear, “you must return home and protect your family at all costs. Protect them so that the Dragon in the North can be born. Without him, the Prince That Was Promised will fall.”

…..

“A Prince That Was Promised, huh,” Jace huffed in question and playfully joked, “If a woman like her whispered in my ears like that, I would follow her god too.”

[Name] laughed and patted his sword next to the campfire and finished off with, “Then she blessed my sword with his power too. But I believe he wants you to see something as well. Look into the fire, nephew.”

Jace awkwardly laughed and shifted on the balls of his palms, “I think I’m alright, uncle.”

“Are you afraid?” [Name] furrowed an eyebrow and smirked, “Don’t tell me the heir to the throne is afraid of a vision in the fire. I suspected my nephew to be braver than that.”

“Fine,” Jace grumbled and looked into the fire, seeing small embers fly into the dark sky. The seventeen year old only wanted to amuse his half-uncle by doing what he wanted him to do. He had no real incentive to do it, but he was curious to see if the red god was real or if his uncle really was crazy.

The fire reflected in Jace’s eyes and [Name] saw the twists and snaps in the reflection. Jace’s lips parted open to speak what he saw in the fire, shocked to see the vision come to life in the flames.

“I see the North, there is an alliance to be made and an oath to keep.”

[Name] hummed in thought while Jace blinked his eyes trying to peer more into the flames.

“And I see-”

A huge gust of wind blew the fire out as Balerion roared past the men, Dreamfyre tailing her mate close by with a replying call. Jace ducked down immediately while [Name] laughed at the cowering position of his nephew. He fixed his clothing and his hair from the flyby, still laughing at the glare he received from Jace.

“Apologies,” [Name] cleared his throat and picked himself up from the floor, reaching a hand out to the teenager. “Balerion likes to announce his arrival, I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Jace asked, taking the offered hand and stood up with the help of it.

“From miles away,” [Name] answered, a grin on his face.

Jace wiped his clothes off and sighed, “A warning won’t hurt next time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” [Name] chuckled and followed after his fuming nephew with lighthearted apologies.

Jace was soft of grateful to have his half-uncle at Dragonstone for many reasons. He looked up to [Name] when they were younger and admired Balerion from afar, too scared to ever approach the dragon. But [Name] tried to help Jace get over his fear of the Dread.

[Name] never questioned his or Luke’s legitimacy either, claiming that his twin and younger brother were green monsters. That Aemond envied their claim to the throne.

[Name] was a role model, perfect son of Viserys the Peaceful. The calm and deadly rider of Balerion. Nothing was truly bad about him.

“He’s a cunt.”

“You shouldn’t speak that way about him, our greatest ally,” Rhaenyra scolded Daemon, the council members having a small meeting about their newest arrival to Dragonstone. While the Hightower-Targaryens found sleep, the meeting concluded with the Targaryen family.

“He didn’t even demand my head or retribution for the death of his son,” Daemon growled out.

Rhaenys shook her head and made eye contact with the ill-tempered man, “No, he barely acknowledged your name. He thinks differently of the whole situation.”

“How so?” Corlys was also dumbfounded by [Name]’s sudden alliance with Rhaenyra. He also found it odd that [Name] didn’t want Daemon to suffer any consequences.

“[Name] puts the blame on his mother and her sworn protector Cole for the death of Rhaegar. He sees Daemon’s order as revenge for Aemond killing Lucerys and-” Rhaneys faltered trying to find the right words to describe [Name]’s motive for all of this, “he believes Rhaegar’s death to be collateral. You weren’t after [Name]’s son, were you?”

Daemon looked around the table and shook his head, “No. Not Rhaegar.”

“So you just proved him right,” Rhaenys continued on, “killing you or demanding any punishment from you will not bring him his son back. He’s learned that from you trying to avenge Lucerys. And he knows deep down that Rhaenyra is the rightful queen. He of all people should know that because he supported Rhaenyra’s claim along with Viserys.”

Jace nodded his head and vouched for his half-uncle, “[Name] has no desire for the crown even grandfather knew that. He never snickered behind my back or saw himself above me, never dished out the word ‘bastard’ like his brothers did.”

“He should hate me,” Daemon spat, “I killed his son!”

Everyone looked at Daemon with wide eyes from his outburst and Rhaenyra breathed out of her nose. She knew what ate away at her husband.

“Daemon, we know you feel guilty over the death of Rhaegar. Maybe this is [Name]’s punishment for you, to receive no punishment or consequences. To let you live on with innocent blood on your hands, to let you think of what you’ve done.”

Daemon looked up at his wife and glowered at her, “If I had Balerion, I would have melted this castle down to its bones, burning every person alive in here.”

Rhaneys straightened out her back and calmly replied, “Luckily [Name] knows how to use his authority on his dragon.”

Jace watched the back of [Name]’s head as he slowed down his pace to the castle. He didn’t know why, but Jace wanted to.

“[Name], I’m sorry about your loss. I-I know how it feels to lose someone, not a child, but a brother.”

Jace saw [Name] stop in his path and the young man turned around with a blank expression on his face. Perhaps Jace should have not said anything regarding Rhaegar, but [Name] spoke up with a soft voice.

“Aegon wanted me to burn you all and Otto wanted to put the blame on Rhaenyra having the people dub her as ‘The Cruel’. But I know my sister, your mother, she’s just like our father with a bit more spirit in her soul. I could never burn the true successor to the throne and if I have to make my family bend the knee with the power of Balerion, I will.”

[Name] looked up at the dark blue sky and said, “Rhaegar’s death opened my eyes and I’ve ignored the warnings from the red god. This time I will do anything for my family. Now come on, we can grieve together in the solitude of the castle walls.”

……

The next day, [Name] saw Rhaenyra’s dragon from afar, returning from her sudden trip to who knows where. Balerion noticed the golden dragon in the bright sun and called out in greeting to which Syrax replied with a screech of her own. Smiling softly at the interaction, [Name] commanded Balerion to do one last circle around his area.

Rhaenyra watched in awe as she rode her dragon, seeing the Dread patrolling the skies in all his dark imagery. Larger than any dragon she has ever seen, she was hopeful that Balerion and [Name] were on her side. Especially after the conversation with his mother.

She wanted [Name] to join in on the council meeting to discuss what was spoken too. To see if he had any advice of what his family could plan against her. So she urged Syrax to call for Balerion knowing that [Name] would catch on to the call.

The golden dragon moved her head side to side and let out a high pitched bellow to signal the black dragon to come back.

When [Name] heard Syrax’s call, he sighed and commanded Balerion to land on the beach where the black dragon made his nest. Swiftly, he took his black helmet off and began climbing down the ropes tied to his mount. Balerion grumbled then rested his head on the sand with a huff.

“Get some rest, Balerion,” [Name] took his gloves off next and placed his helmet next to his dragon, “we have tomorrow’s patrol as well.”

As if responding to his rider, Balerion's chest rumbled in agreement, the dragon closing his eyes for that much needed rest. Although, the black dragon did want to go on a hunt with his rider.

[Name] watched Syrax fly into the cave and he started making his long trek up to the castle. One of the cons of having a large dragon, you have to walk everywhere because it cannot sleep in a cave with other dragons. When [Name] was halfway to the castle, he saw a familiar red dragon fly out of the cave.

“Princess Rhaenys?” [Name] mumbled then hurried up the steps to see what was wrong.

When he made his way up to the council meeting, he spotted Rhaenyra looking pale and solemn. Helaena was by her side nodding to the words Rhaenyra spoke to her. Fearing that Rhaenyra was asking Helaena to fly out on Dreamfyre he interrupted the queen.

“Your Grace,” [Name] huffed and briskly made his way over to his wife. He set a hand on Helaena’s shoulder and said, “Send me, you promised me that Helaena wouldn’t have to fly Dreamfyre.”

Rhaenyra moved her eyes to [Name] and shook her head, “I was only giving Helaena some comfort, brother. Rhaenys is flying out to Rook’s Rest to provide backup to Lord Stuanton. There’s a possibility of her encountering Vhagar which is why you need to fly out with her. Now.” No time for goodbyes when Rhaneys was already flying out there.

[Name] looked down at Helaena and her eyes glistened with a teary goodbye.

“At once, Your Grace,” [Name] bowed his head at Rhaenyra and planted a quick kiss at the crown of Helaena’s head. Then he turned around demanding someone to give him a horse so he could ride out to Balerion.

Helaena watched her husband disappear out of sight and she looked up at Rhaenyra, “I know he’ll come back, but…the cost of Rook’s Rest would be far too great. It’s never a good thing to fight amongst blood.”

Rhaenyra looked away from the entrance and sighed. Helaena was right, odd as she may be.

……

[Name] had Balerion glide right above the sea water, knowing that if he had his dragon fly any higher than that, they would be spotted quickly. His heart raced in his chest and [Name] prepared his mind to fight his brother, Aemond. His biggest foe and greatest enemy now.

Aegon would never be on the battlefield just like Rhaenyra cause both parties were too important to be sent to battle. So he willed Balerion to fly faster to help Rhaenys against the green monstrosity that would soon come to Rook Rest.

Upon seeing the cliff Rook’s Rest was planted on, [Name] saw Meleys fighting a very family light pink and golden dragon. Eyes wide in surprise [Name] urged Balerion to fly faster seeing the blood of Sunfyre rain down on the earth.

“Aderī, Balerion,” [Name] shouted and the dragon grumbled in response. Then when they approached the cliff [Name] commanded Balerion to fly upwards parallel to the mountainside. The Lord of Rook’s Rest and his men felt a huge gust of wind blow them forward and turned around to see a giant dark beast rise into the sky with a thunderous roar. (qᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ)

High in the sky, [Name] spotted Vhagar flying her way towards the engaged Meleys and Sunfyre. “Naejot, Balerion,” The dragon rider growled in frustration seeing the highly focused gaze on Aemond’s face. (ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ)

Meanwhile, Aegon held onto his mount hearing the painful cries leave Sunfyre’s throat. His ears shattered upon the noise that brought him sorrow. His mind racing a mile and his heart about to burst from his chest. That was until he heard the greatest roar in history rumble in the sky. His head snapped to the left and he saw Vhagar flying over to him with a determined Aemond on her back.

“Thank the gods!” Aemond cried in relief, but that relief was washed away. The look on Aemond’s face, it wasn’t a look of help, but a demand for blood and death.

“Dracarys!” Aemond shouted, the command Vhagar didn’t hesitate to defy.

Rhaenys and Aegon looked at the impending doom, both bracing themselves for the fire building up in the back of Vhagar’s throat as their dragons fought amongst each other.

Yet a desperate and willful demand shouted above Vhagar’s gurgling throat, “angōs, Balerion!” The black dread opened his mouth wide, snapping hard onto Vhagar’s flappy throat disrupting the line of fire. Vhagar roared out in pain while Aemond held tighter onto his mount, glaring at his brother who commanded Balerion to fly higher into the sky with Vhagar in his clutches.

But they were already too close to the earth for the command to have any merit, so he watched.

[Name] held onto his mount and watched Balerion hold onto Vhagar’s throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. Both large dragons took the show away from the smaller ones and [Name] couldn’t afford to look at Rhaenys when their biggest threat was in his grasp.

Before Balerion could sustain any injuries from Vhagar’s talons, [Name] ordered his dragon to back away. Not wanting to spoil his attack, Balerion swished his head tearing into Vhagar’s throat a bit more then kicked the green dragon to the earth. Balerion spread his wings wide parallel to the ground and glided over the burning men and fallen dragon with a victory cry, his tail smacking into some men running away.

The Black Dread took to the skies and [Name] turned around to see Sunfyre succumb to his injuries from Meleys. The golden dragon cried out with a high pitched screech before hitting the forest ground in silence and a puff of fire. [Name] cringed and turned away from the tragic scene. This was all happening too fast, Balerion had years of battle experience, but he didn’t. Neither did Aegon or Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t have survived that fall, he thought. It wasn’t possible. While distracted, an attack from Vhagar happened upon Balerion who roared out waking up [Name] from his stupor. He looked to his left and saw a small chunk of Balerion’s right shoulder blade in Vhagar’s mouth.

Quickly he held onto his reins with one hand and the other pulled Hellfire from its sheath. [Name] with strong legs, stood on his mount and began slicing at Vhagar’s saggy skin. The flames ate away at her flesh wounds.

“Damn traitor!”

[Name] ignored Aemond’s angered yell at him, for he was too focused trying to get Balerion help.

“I’ll kill you right here! And force Helaena back home, to fight with her true family!”

Hellfire burned brighter and [Name] stabbed Vhagar in her puffy cheek. Then he dragged his sword downwards to his mount forcing Vhagar to release Balerion because this fiery pain in her mouth was too much to bear.

Vhagar bellowed into the ash covered sky and [Name] demanded that Balerion dive down to escape from Vhagar’s talons. With a tactical retreat, Balerion flew away just in time for Rhaenys to strike a critical blow onto Vhagar.

Meleys attacked from behind and tore at Vhagar’s left wing causing the green dragon to breathe out fire into the sky. The Queen Who Never Was ended Aegon and Sunfyre, and now [Name] needed to pull his weight and end Vhagar.

[Name]’s heartbeat echoed in his head and he pulled Balerion back into the fight. If Aemond didn’t bring up Helaena in the fight, he would have left Rhaenys to claim the victory of killing Vhagar.

But Aemond was his now. Brother or not, you do not threaten his wife. Rhaenys saw the Black Dread making his way over with strong beats of his large wings. That look on [Name]’s face said everything she needed to know and she had Meleys release Vhagar, flying high into the sky to see the end of the Green’s Dragons at Rook’s Rest.

“Dracarys!”

His commanding voice sent shivers down Rhaenys’ spine and for the first time, she actually witnessed black fire shooting out of Balerion’s throat. Even at the safe distance she was at, the heat from it was too much.

Vhagar gave out a defeated bellow falling into the sea like a black fireball. A huge splash resounded in their ears and Rhaneys landed Meleys on top of Rook’s Rest looking down at the burning battlefield. Lord Staunton looked up at the princess and carefully asked, “Is it over?”

Rhaenys breathed in and out watching the aftermath of four dragons fighting. She and [Name] just ended the war in one battle. Balerion and Meleys, injured yet fearlessly fighting with their riders, ended the lives of two dragons. Suddenly Balerion landed on the burning field and roared at the usurper’s men.

One by one, men started surrendering with their weapons falling from their hands. Green banners left to be stomped on and she could hear some men whimper at the sight of the victorious dragons.

“Yes, Lord Staunton,” Rhaneys breathed out, “It is over.” Her eyes dragged over and saw a paranoid [Name] on his mount. She unhooked herself from her mount and Meleys moved a wing down to Balerion's back.

Meanwhile [Name] tried to catch his breath, but his chest felt like it could explode. His grip on Hellfire loosened and he pounded at his heart with an ache. His throat closed up and his vision got blurry.

“[Name], relax!”

The adult male blinked the tears away and saw a clear vision of Rhaenys holding onto his shoulders. She must have jumped onto Balerion from Meleys with great expertise.

“You need to calm down, breathe.”

She softly demanded, her face covered in ash morphed into worry as he said, “My own brothers, I killed them. My own blood.”

Rhaenys’ eyes softened at his turmoil. “Aemond, you saw him,” She tried to reason with him, “he would have burned Aegon were it not for you. You stopped Aemond and his tyranny, no one would blame you for doing that. And I killed Aegon, not you. You’d be wise to remember that you fight for Rhaenyra’s claim, you support the rightful heir. No one is going to call you a kinslayer.”

[Name] sucked in a deep breath and his shoulder slug forward in defeat despite winning a great battle for Rhaenyra. This happened all too fast and ended so quickly. Nothing was going to make him feel better right now.

“Princess Rhaenys and Prince [Name]!”

A voice shouted from the castle, it was Lord Staunton.

“The Hightowers have fled with their remaining men and there is no sight of Aegon, but his dragon has succumbed to its wounds. Shouldn’t we chase them down on dragonback and horses?”

Rhaenys looked back at the male adult in her arms and shouted back, “No! For now, we take this win and wait for Queen Rhaenyra’s orders on what to do next. Prepare Prince [Name] a hot bath and a meal. He fought well against his usurper brothers, it’s what you must do for him. And send a raven to Queen Rhaenyra. We have news to tell her.”

News, [Name] thought. She didn't describe it as good news for the Queen. His brothers deaths were definitely good news for the blacks. Although for him, it was just news.

...........................................................

MUSIC THAT INSPIRED THIS CHAPTER

There Will Be No Mercy - Ramin Djawadi

Rook's Rest, Pt 2 - Ramin Djawadi

The Red Woman - Ramin Djawadi

#x reader #hotd x male reader #hotd x reader #hotd season 2 #hotd #helaena x male reader #x male reader #helaena x reader #helaena the dreamer #helaena targaryen

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thewriterg · 1 year ago

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

pairing(s); luke danes x fem!reader

summary; to prevent you from loosing a leg Luke helps you with your Halloween decorations to save your limbs and his nerves —flufftober day; 10—

word count; 580+

warning(s); reader giving Luke grays, fluff, pet names, and language

playlist; baby I’m yours by cass elliot

A/n:—GIFs; @slayerbuffy & @clwnstim— can’t say I’m too sad to see flufftober go because I suck at fluff

“What the hell” Luke muttered rolling into your driveway with the turn of his steering wheel the tail of his truck following behind him as he squinted at the sight of you on the top of your roof artificial spider webs hanging from the pillars of your porch small plastic spiders peaking through the white web

The brunette didn’t rush out of the car until he began to watch your unsafe attempt of getting down from the top of your home aka with out a latter

“Hey! You’re killing me smalls!” You smiled down at him having got back to the surface of the roof of your home at the sound of his scolding voice that held no room for argument

“If i was waiting for my knight in shining armor to come rescue me then i declared i am no damsel in distress i shall save myself” You mocked in a posh gilded voice while Luke rolled his eyes in in response seeming over your act

“If you don’t come down right now I’m leaving you to the hocks” You gasped at the statement a hand over your heart and the brunette practically over the whole situation at hand

“You would never” You sat down your legs dangling over the ledge of the roof your arms crossed and a small mock pout on your face if you searched up ‘4 year old in time out’ Luke was sure your picture would pop up front and center

“Listen here you, if I have to come up there” You giggled at the stern finger that was pointed towards you garnished with stern ice blue eyes you hummed in response twirling a loose thread on your sweater your eyes tilted towards the sky ‘contemplating’ your decision

“God woman are you crazy!?” The brunette hissed as you slid from the roof barely able to catch you in time your frame secure against his flannel covered chest sitting you down on the ground giving you a few extra seconds to make sure you were settled

“Oh please dear lord, will you be ever so kind to help me hang the decor around the the castle” You spoke while Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at the borderline terrible accent shaking his head in disbelief or disgust you couldn’t quite tell

“Get in the house and bring me the boxes” the brunette grumbled and you giddily skipped your way up the porch into you home searching for Halloween decorations

💌💌💌💌

“Boo!” You screamed causing Luke to flinch his body jittering as you snickered at the shivering of his shoulders just having finished pinning the last 3D bats over your door frame

“Jesus Christ! You are insane you hear me!? Lala loopy” He hissed speaking with his hands to emphasis his point as you smirked before putting up grabby hands at the blue eyed pale man while he backed away declining the offer with a passion

“My big helper you have saved the kingdom from a unfulfilling castle and your reward is a lay of my lips” You made a high pitched smooch sound from your lips before placing it on his cheek the stubble tickling yours in return

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman” Luke uttered as you turned your back towards him pressed against his front half before he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as the wind currents picked up around you both

Luke could argue about the best time of the year

#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆 #luke danes #luke danes x reader #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #fem!reader #spooktober #flufftober #angstober #kinktober #romance #fluff #i love you #thewriterg #2023

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musings-of-miss-j · 9 months ago

Text

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part six: in which you wrangle out information about the doctor's segments, discover a library and obtain the favour of its obscenely wealthy resident

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: is the burn even burning. slow burn, gn neutral reader who is occasionally referred to as 'miss', smart-ass reader with just a sprinkle of social anxiety and a healthy dose of skepticism

warnings: blood and organs. are we even surprised at this point

series masterlist

as always, let me know if you find any pronoun slips!! oh, and friendly reminder that reblogs help circulate my work much better than likes <3

word count: 4628 words

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

“They are not clones,” he replied dismissively. “Have you nothing to say to explain yourself?”

“In that case, how precisely do you define them?” You prodded, all anxiety at your lateness forgotten in the face of this engrossing new mystery. “I’m assuming you created them. How, if not by cloning?”

The Doctor crossed his arms and stared you down. You gazed back up at him, resolute and unmoving in your curiosity. You looked different today, he noted; you apparently still hadn’t found your cloak judging from the fact you were wearing Childe’s, damn him,and the shadows under your eyes were more pronounced than usual. He frowned behind his mask. Had you not gotten enough sleep? Perhaps he shouldn’t have kept you in the lab so late; after all, sleep deprivation would make you more prone to committing foolish blunders in the vicinity of his precious experiments. He couldn’t have that.

“My segments are none of your concern,” he said with an air of finality.

“Doctor, as your apprentice, am I not entitled to having any questions outside my realm of expertise answered by you?”

Oh, you devious thing.

With a dismissive wave of his gloved hand, the Doctor swept past you towards the reflux apparatus he set up the night before.

“Provide an acceptable excuse for your tardiness, and perhaps then I’ll be more accommodating.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, unsurprised by his persistent give-and-take mentality, and made your way to your array of petri dishes. Under different conditions, the fungi growing within them developed a multitude of characteristics; under direct sunlight, tendrils of green plantlife snaked through the mycelium, when submerged in water the fungi formed tiny yet distinctive fins, and many other such phenomena.

“I had an encounter with Lady Eight and Lord Eleven after the lab session.”

“One that lasted well past midnight?” He asked, stealing glances at you as he set up the next step of his current experiment.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a disdainful roll of your eyes. “Hence my lack of punctuality. I had to entertain guests.”

Outrage flared in Dottore’s chest. How dare they intrude upon you at such an inopportune time? Of course, he conveniently dismissed the fact that he was the one who kept you so late in the first place; as far as he was concerned, he was entitled to your company. You were his apprentice, after all.

“Understandable enough,” he conceded.

You shot him a look. “Well? Your… segments? What are they, precisely?”

He muttered something unintelligible before responding. “Iterations of myself at various ages.”

“I counted seven of them. Are there any more? What purpose does their existence serve? How did you create them?”

“You’re terribly inquisitive today, dear student,” he drawled, holding a test tube to the light and swirling the contents. You frowned. Did he intend to leave your questions unanswered? You really were awfully curious. “Count yourself lucky that I’m in fine spirits today.”

Visibly brightening, you rested your chin in your hands and your elbows on the workbench as you waited for him to go on. You never did seem to notice that he was always in a good mood whenever it came to you and your ceaseless inquiries.

“You counted correctly, there are indeed only seven of them,” he began, preparing a solution for the day’s work with the various test tubes in front of him. “I created them using techniques similar to those utilised in ancient ruin guards, but imbedded with my consciousness and the ideals I held at different phases of my life. This allows me to approach any problem from multiple perspectives, and prevents me from becoming restricted to familiar cognitive patterns.”

You hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed as you mulled over his answer.

“But how did you ensure that the segment’s outlooks are exactly the same as the ones you used to have? Does your current personality not create some sort of bias and alter the way in which you view your… past self?”

The Doctor nodded his approval; you were asking the right questions.

“I am not heralded as a genius for nothing,” came his amused reply.

“That is a wholly unsatisfactory answer,” you grumbled, but let it slide. “Why haven’t I seen them before now?”

He elected to ignore that.

You managed to wriggle out of the Doctor’s snide remarks that you were getting lazy and make your way to the dining hall on time, for once. A restock was absolutely necessary; you’d run out of food in your dorm, and considering the sizeable journey you had to make to reach the dining hall it was a much easier endeavour to just hoard quick meals like an animal going into hibernation. Besides, you didn’t want to leave Arlie waiting, either. While you still didn’t know what kind of power she held, nor to what extent it would affect you, you were far from excited to have her demonstrate that power if you somehow managed to displease her. Even the Doctor, Childe and Signora appeared more manageable; at the very least, you knew exactly how they could make your life miserable if they wished, while Arlie was shrouded in mystery save for her dizzying, razor-sharp grace. Her special brand of courtesy felt like it would leave you scarred and bleeding out if you didn’t watch your step; a knife’s edge you had to dance around and an irresistible enigma for someone as relentlessly inquisitive as you.

After loading up a plate and sliding one of the chefs a tidy stack of mora to have packaged meals sent to your dorm, you slid into the seat across from Arlie at the table by the window you were somehow consistently lucky enough to snag (luck had nothing to do with it, really. She made damn sure no one else would sit there). Clearly she’d arrived some time ago, judging from the empty pot of coffee in front of her, and she offered you a nod of acknowledgment as you sat down. After your first meeting, she’d abandoned the purple robes that had were meant to serve the purpose of disguising her as an electro cicin mage, and now whenever you saw her she donned sleek, finely-tailored suits. You couldn’t say they didn’t look marvellous on her.

“I was expecting to see you at dinner, not this early.”

“The doctor was an in amicable mood,” you replied, buttering your roll and slathering on a layer of too-sweet jam. Mona had perfected both the art of astrology and jams; you missed her and the flawlessly balanced confections she’d make during the rare instances she had the mora to spare.

“Why are you staring at that bread roll as though it made you an orphan before your very eyes?” Arlie’s silky voice took on a bemused edge, snapping you out of your reverie. You were more than a little surprised by her question; you liked to think of yourself as somewhat difficult to read. Perhaps you were, but nothing escaped her searching gaze.

“I was just ruminating over my research.” It no longer unsettled you how smoothly the lie flowed from your tongue.

Annoyance spiked in her chest. Inconceivable, that you would entertain any thoughts that didn’t involve her. You smiled slightly. “And your ever-cryptic identity.”

She shook her head, laughing quietly. The previous frustration quickly dissipated. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”

“Tastefully curious,” you corrected with a laugh of your own.

“It’s hardly as if you’re the most comprehensible of people, either.”

You grinned. “I’m inclined to disagree, Arlie. Why, I’m an open book!”

“I’m having trouble translating your pages, then.”

“Linguistics isn’t your area of expertise, I take it?” You teased, lifting your fork to your lips. Casual conversation with Arlie felt less like balancing on a tightrope over a clearing swarming with tigers and more like finding that one of the tigers was actually quite civil and pleasant company, if you overlooked the teeth and claws and minded your manners.

“I’ll gladly learn if it means understanding you better.” Her silver-tongued reply and suave smile had you blushing and taking a moment to collect yourself.

“And you have the unprecedented confidence to call me cheeky,” you quipped.

Savouring the lapse in your composure, she replied bracingly. “Being timid doesn’t get you anywhere. Listen. Request forms will be issued later today. Make sure to submit yours before midnight.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Ah, I see. To restock any necessities we might have exhausted, yes?”

“Precisely.”

Fantastic. You needed a new turtleneck sweater after the eventful dissection with the Doctor left if bloodstained beyond repair.

“I assume the Regrator is the one responsible for overseeing such matters?”

She frowned behind her mask. Just what did he have to do with anything? Why would you bring him into the conversation? Or anyone, for that matter? “Yes, that’s right.”

You shot her a puzzled glance at the sudden frigidity in her voice. Maybe she held a grudge against him, you reasoned; it was entirely possible that she was one of his higher-ranking subordinates. Or maybe she was a Harbinger who held contempt for one of her colleagues.

“The palace truly is a self-sustaining community,” you remarked. “Do soldiers and recruits ever leave for anything besides missions?”

“No. Snezhnaya is far from a forgiving place, and there’s safety to be had between these walls.”

So the Fatui were effectively isolated from the rest of Snezhnayan society, then. You vaguely remembered from an introductory politics lecture that such physical separation between civilians and the ruling body could easily cause unrest and eventually conflict, tearing the nation apart. Oh, well. Hopefully your diploma would be complete long before that happened.

With food in your stomach and the usual vague wonderings about Arlie in your head, you returned to the lab.

“Oh, good,” Dottore remarked without looking up from organ modification he was performing. He insisted that it was enhancement, optimisation, and you firmly maintained that it was nothing but needless meddling. “You’ve finally returned. Come here and help me locate the damned tricuspid valve.”

“Surely you’re not so old that your eyesight is failing, doctor?” You asked, removing your leather gloves in favour of the horrible yellow plasticky pair. With a contemplative hum, you leaned over the countertop to survey the bleeding heart (ha, ha) more closely. Remarkable, really, how precise the Doctor’s incisions were; even you had to swallow your pride and admit that he truly was the best of the best, the epitome of perfection so highly sought after by any academic. Noting the blood dripping onto the floor, you winced. Perfection tampered by a thorough indifference to anything that wasn’t his research would be a more accurate description. You batted away his hands and took the scalpel the two of you were always fighting over, making a clean cut through the right atrium and gently peeling away the torn muscle until you could see the flimsy tissue you were looking for.

“There’s your valve,” you said, handing him back the scalpel with no small measure of reluctance. The rules dictated that he’d get to use it for the rest of the day since he got it first, after all.

He ran his bloodied thumb along the edge of his mask before going back to poking delicately at the tissue. You grimaced, watching the white leather of his mask stain crimson where he touched it.

“Flawless,” he murmured.

“Yes, quite,” you agreed, surveying the heart over his shoulder. It had clearly been removed by someone exceptionally skilled, every slice through the tender flesh perfectly made.

Ironically, Dottore was referring to your work. And you, in general.

You left the lab tired but satisfied. The day’s experiment had involved lifting several heavy mechanical components; ruin guard’s remains, to be precise. To your eternal chagrin the Doctor hadn’t struggled in the slightest, although you knew for a fact his sleep schedule was deplorable and he so rarely ate anything at all; in fact, you’d made a habit of discreetly leaving plates of food around the lab for him. A dish of vegetable stir fry you’d made in a sleep-deprived haze when your stomach rumbled loud enough to wake you and most likely every one of the castle’s inhabitants, a bowl of fruit, an exquisite chocolate mousse Anya had whipped up for you, and other such snacks scattered throughout the lab far away from any dangerous chemicals. Not that you’d admit to bringing them for him, much like how he’d deny having eaten any. What a strange, prideful pair the two of you made.

Your (well. Childe’s) coat snagged on something as you walked back to the dorm, yanking you back and forcing an obscene curse from your mouth. You crouched to inspect the source, and to your surprise found it to be the edge of a door that was left cracked. It would’ve been invisible if it were closed, and hooking your fingers into the narrow gap and pulling yielded no results. The door didn’t budge. Intrigued, you knelt fully to inspect the wedge; upon running your fingers up and down the seam you discovered a series of tiny, circular indents in the wood.

“Eureka,” you whispered softly. A similar mechanism could be found in several other places in the palace after careful inspection, and to your amusement they all required the same pattern to unlock. Terrible security. You tapped the indents in the order you’d long since memorised, and allowed a tiny, smug smile to overtake your lips when the door swung dutifully open. You slipped inside. The sheer height of hundreds of rows of bookshelves made itself known, and you let out a tiny ‘oh’ of astonishment. A library. The most beautiful one you’d ever stepped foot in, at that; even the House of Daena with its towering arches and marble couldn’t compare to the soft, weathered charm of this place, all hand-woven rugs and big windows framed by velvet curtains, plush armchairs and an array of tasteful stationery littered across every surface, cream paper and deeply coloured quills and ebony ink. You stood frozen in the doorway, taking it all in. If only you’d discovered this place long ago. A quick inspection of the books on the shelves revealed a myriad of genres and topics, even a few analyses bound in leather of subjects you’d itched to study but couldn’t because they were forbidden by the Akademiya. You glanced furtively around. Silent as the grave. Before you could lose your nerve, you quickly began pulling tomes from the shelves and stowing them in your leather satchel; surely no one would complain if you borrowed a few until the next time you could visit this miraculous place. Looking back, you were appalled by your own bravado.

“Oh? And what have we here?”

You froze, a book on the intricacies of destroying Visions halfway in your satchel. Oh, curses.

“Nothing but a curious student, sir,” you replied as smoothly as you could, turning to face the owner of the voice: a well-groomed man dressed entirely in black, from his raven hair to the shimmering jewels studded on the high collar of his shirt. Nauseatingly wealthy, that much was obvious from the fineness of the fur he wore and what seemed to be a diamond ring on his finger. The part of your brain that wasn’t panicking at being caught wondered if he’d let you test whether it was real or not; a simple and visually pleasing procedure to determine the refractive index was all it would take.

The stranger picked at his gloves, watching you over the rim of a rather excellent pair of glasses (you could tell from the set of the lenses in the frames; seamless as the door you’d unlocked to get into the library.)

“Really, now? A thirst for knowledge is all that drove you here, then?”

You swallowed nervously. Just how would you get yourself out of this predicament?

“The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help but wonder what might be inside.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And how did you manage to open the door all the way?”

You bit back the smug smile that was threatening to appear. Best to downplay yourself so as not to seem too clever; a man this rich would obviously be powerful too, and nothing good could come of revealing your assets to him.

“I don’t know, sir,” you replied, injecting as much cluelessness into your voice as you could. “I just pulled it open. My apologies for intruding, it wasn’t my intention.”

“That would be believable if I were just a touch more foolish. Unfortunately for you, I’m not convinced by your innocent act.” He smiled. “At all.”

Rich and intelligent. What a bothersome combination.

“I suppose my only defence is that I was unaware this was a private library,” you conceded, re-shelving the tome. The wistful look in your eyes as you did so was quite amusing, he thought.

“And how do you plan on earning my forgiveness?”

“What are my options?” You countered without missing a beat.

Hm. Not bad, he thought approvingly.

“Why not introduce yourself? I’d quite like to know the name of the thief who knows how to break into a library I thought impenetrable.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed, and fidgeted discreetly with your gloves.

“I wouldn’t call myself a thief, sir. I fully intended on returning these once I had read them,” you protested, then gave him your name. “I’m an apprentice of the Doctor’s.”

Subtle realisation dawned on the man’s face.

“Oh, I see. The infamous ‘Trixy,’ no?”

“That… is indeed the nickname Lord Eleven insists on calling me by.” You were going to kill him, you really were.

He smiled. “I thought Dottore was exaggerating when he referred to you as ‘overly cunning.’ It looks like I was wrong.”

You frowned slightly at the casual use of the Doctor’s name. Archons. Just my luck, being caught nicking books from a Harbinger’s library.

“I am the Regrator.” Reaching towards you, he took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, sir- my lord,” you replied, flustered by his greeting and your mistake. “Truly an honour. Allow me to once again extend my apologies for imposing myself on your property.”

“Not to worry, one apology was quite enough,” he replied with another smile. How quickly he changed his tune; a moment ago you were quite worried he’d do much worse than throw you out, but now he was all class and geniality. These two-faced Harbingers really would be the death of you, forcing you to switch between subtle defensiveness and gracefully accepting compliments.

“I’ll see myself out,” you said, breaking the impending silence. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“No, no. Stay, I insist. In fact…” He took hold of your shoulders and steered you towards the fireplace, nudging you into a chair. “Why not take a seat? If my memory serves, today you’re to receive the requests forms, is that right?”

He grinned, satisfied, when you nodded in confirmation.

“Lovely. Tell me what it is you were going to have brought to the palace, and I’ll ensure its timely delivery.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.

“And what do you gain from providing me this assistance?”

“Your favour,” he replied promptly, so matter-of-fact that you thought you’d misheard. Well. If he was going to take the first shot and be such a flatterer, then you could certainly play along.

“Why, you’ve already gained it by extending your cordiality,” you said, lifting a gloved hand to your mouth to hide the grin threatening to overtake your features.

Regrator laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The flickering glow of the fireplace threw the planes of his face into sharp relief, all razor-sharp angles that could cut through diamond. Unsettled, you took to pulling at the fingertips of your gloves for a moment’s respite from his eerie black gaze, glinting like the surface of a bottomless lake at night. Maybe, just maybe, masks were preferable.

“You’re something of a smooth talker,” he remarked. “Perhaps I’ve met my match.”

“I couldn’t hope to live up to your articulacy, my lord, though I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be so humble. I understand that you’re quite the genius in your own field, no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Whatever gave you such an impression?”

“It’s not often Dottore goes larking about others’ intelligence,” he replied with equal amusement, watching the swirling clouds of snow outside the stained glass window. Now that caught you by surprise. Surely the Doctor, legend of the Akademiya and one of the arrogant men you ever had the displeasure of meeting, wouldn’t bestow you with such praise.

“I’m clever enough to get by,” you settled on saying, fingers itching to check your pocket watch. It had to be late, but the Regrator imposed a strange aura that compelled you to follow what little etiquette you knew of. The moment you realised this, however, you made a point of taking your watch out and checking the time. The only nonsensical rules you would allow to influence your behaviour were those that could eventually be explained; the laws of science.

“Terribly humble,” he murmured, repeating his previous statement with a touch more gratification.

“It never pays to be egotistical without good reason,” you concluded, making to get up. “It’s been a pleasure, my lord”-

“Sit, sit,” he said firmly, cutting you off. “You won’t have time to submit the request form now,” he pointed out. ‘You might as well stay and tell me what it is you need so I can take care of it.”

You cursed softly under your breath. He was right, unfortunately, and you really were in dire need of several necessities. Resignedly, you sat back down. The Regrator’s pleased twitch of his lips didn’t escape your notice; clearly he’d planned this out. Sneak.

“Much obliged,” you muttered, not without a healthy amount of resentment you didn’t bother hiding.

“But of course.”

He stared at you expectantly, that maddeningly unbothered half-smile never budging from his lips. You bit back a sigh. Best get this over with.

“Well, for starters, I need at least seventy grams each of qingxin, violetgrass, mourning flowers and lumidouce bells. Oh, and ten grams of sunsettia seeds. Other than that, one kilogram each of copper, crystal marrow and white iron, and as many chaos devices and spectral husks as you can afford.”

“That sounds similar to Dottore’s usual order, yes,” he mused. “But forgive me for asking… why the sunsettia seeds?”

“Sunsettia trees can be coaxed into growing under very harsh conditions, and I happen to quite like the fruit,” you answered with a shrug.

The half-smile widened just a touch.

“I see. Everything else on your list seems to pertain to laboratory work. Are you certain you won’t require any… more personal items?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Although, the doctor did say you would know why I didn’t receive the standard uniform for Fatui recruits,” you added as an afterthought. He blinked, as if caught by surprise.

“Why, it’s quite simple. You’re not considered a recruit at all.”

You stared unabashedly at him. “What?”

“It’s true,” he continued, toying with the fine silver chain of his glasses. “Your file simply has 'scholar' written as the rank.”

“How ambiguous,” you bit out, dragging a hand down your face. For all their bluster and pomp, you’d decided that the Fatui were a ragtag group of disorderly misfits with no sense of how to run such a large and influential organisation. ‘Rank: Scholar? Seriously? Keqing’s voice in your head pointedly asked if you thought you would me more up to the task of filing accurate records on thousands of people. You mentally grumbled.

“Quite fitting for a mysterious person like you.”

You lifted your head to shoot him an incredulous glance. “Yes, absolutely, my lord,” you muttered sarcastically under your breath. “My every action is so veiled in mystique, I can hardly see a metre in front of me from all the smoke and mirrors.”

The Regrator chuckled quietly.

“Clearly you understand that brevity is the soul of wit.”

“Just bursting with wisecracks, my lord,” you deadpanned. “It’s time I should be going.” Rising from your chair, you cast a longing glance across the library. “…Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for permission to visit your library now and again?”

“Permission granted,” he conceded with a nod and twinkle in his fathomless eyes. “You’d be a welcome guest at any time.”

With a grateful ‘thank you’ and a brief smile, you hurried out of the secret door and back to your dorm.

As far as you were concerned, morning had yet to begin if it was almost noon. The sky was completely clouded over, not a glimpse of the tenuous blue visible through the layers upon layers of cottony white. In your professional opinion, if the sun wasn’t visible then the day hadn’t even started; hence why you were still in bed savouring your only day off of the week.

With a contented sigh, you pulled the blankets up to your chin and settled in a more comfortable positon, the battering of the wind against your window and the distant crowing of ravens forming a lulling symphony. Sleep was just around the corner.

A crash startled you out of your pleasant half-awake reverie, the suddenness of the movement quite effectively acquainting your skull with the wooden headboard. You muttered a string of curses, electing to ignore whoever had the unparalleled audacity to make such a noise and go back to sleep. The intruder wasn’t as agreeable about your plan, unfortunately.

“Rise and shine, Trixy!” An all too familiar voice rang out. You groaned and buried your head beneath the covers. Maybe it was a hallucination that would disappear if you ignored it. Hallucinations weren’t tangible, however, but Childe very much was, judging from how he shook your shoulder and prevented you from slipping back into your slumber. You made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away.

“Heavens’ sake, Childe,” you rasped, curling up tighter and willing him to go away. The use of his name rather than a snidely bit out title, or worse still, just his rank, gave him pause. You congratulated yourself on managing to shock him long enough to allow yourself to settle back into the mattress. Not even a moment later you felt a freezing pair of hands grab your ankles and pull.

“H-hey!” You kicked and thrashed, but Childe just laughed and tugged you out of bed. You could’ve sobbed. “What do you want?” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Awww, it’s almost as if you don’t want me here,” he said with a pout, watching you rub your eyes and push the hair out of your face. You were softer around the edges like this, he thought, hackles lowered slightly and the suspicion in your eyes worn away by sleep.

“You’re slow on the uptake, but know that I’m proud of you for finally coming to a correct conclusion,” you deadpanned. “Now tell me what’s so bloody important that you saw it fit to wake me.”

He grinned brightly. “It’s your day off, isn’t it? I wanted to take you to the city!”

You opened your mouth to snap out a scathing retort that would probably have him leaving the room in a huff, then closed it again. He looked so hopeful, all wide eyes wrinkling at the corners from the wideness of his boyish grin. You wanted to kick yourself for going so soft on him.

“Alright,” you conceded. “Let’s go to the city.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist: @shikanosn, @viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist then just send me a message!! in a similar vein, if you want to be mutuals then dm meeeeeee

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matchaxberries · 1 year ago

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Gaara Relationship Headcanons

Gaara Sabaku (Naruto) x Gn!reader

Drabbles/Headcanons, Not requested, SFW

Summary: Gaara of the sand is perfect, no debates. Cute relationship Headcanons, fluffy.

Warnings: Talk about insecurities and nightmares, pet names, I don’t think there is anything else.

(A/N) Gaara is one of my favorite characters of this series. He deserves so much, and is soft. I do not care who thinks he’s terrible, he is perfect. If it’s requested at all I might make a smut version of this, or if I just feel like doing that. I also for the most part always will put the read more under the gif for my posts. I think it looks clean. :3 If anyone thinks I should change it, do suggest something else.

Gaara is insecure of himself, that’s obvious in the show. He likes physical touch, and words of affirmation.

In public, he isn’t too big on touch though. Being the Kazekage, he wants your relationship a bit more closed. He wouldn’t want anything bad happening to his lover because of his status.

He will melt into grains of sand if you play with his hair while sitting behind him. If you’re taller, he wouldn’t mind sitting right in your lap, or in between your legs. If you’re shorter, he would sit in the floor in front of you, while you’re in a chair just so you run your hands through his red locks.

He would be very flustered by any nicknames, he likes kind words, but pet names turn him the color of his own hair. Bright red. He isn’t going to tell you to stop though, no. He’s going to enjoy it, and pretend he doesn’t like it, and he will turn away from you so you can’t see his expression.

Back on him being insecure, he gets jealous or possessive over you fast. He sees you talking to someone who makes you laugh a bit more than usual? He is by your side in a moment, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “What is so funny, (y/n)?” He will question, right in front of the person.

They will be scared, he is Kazekage. “Sorry, lord Kazekage-“ they’ll quickly let out, turning heel and getting away from you.

You’ll pout at Gaara, saying they weren’t saying anything with bad intentions. But he doesn’t say anything back, only drags you back to his office so you can tell him how much you love him, and how he’s the only one for you.

While you are laying and about to rest, randomly tell him how you love something about him. He doesn’t mind if he’s heard it before, it helps him fall asleep.

Gaara has nightmares frequently, he doesn’t want to wake you at all, but sometimes he jerks awake and you get jerked with him since you sleep right on him.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He will say, while out of breath. “Don’t worry Gaara, are you okay?” He will only nod, and hold you closer. He doesn’t like to talk about his nightmares, they’re often about things that would happen in his past. He’s afraid you’ll leave him if you find out that he’s a ‘monster’ in his own words.

Gaara doesn’t have too many facial expressions, at first it worried you, thinking you were boring him. But he assured you he just doesn’t react well, but he loves you very much, and finds you very entertaining.

Gaara likes to carry you around on his sand. He thinks it is fun, and you get to enjoy yourself watching over everything. He will have you float just a bit behind him, up a bit higher, but never out of his reach or sight.

His preferred pet name from you is love, sweetheart, and pretty boy. They all fluster him a lot, but those are his favorites to hear. He likes to call you dear, my dear, and on occasion darling. He keeps them to a minimum, and keeps them kind of professional. He will fluster himself by calling you something pretty out there.

Word Count: 571

Character count: 2,974

(A/N 2) The word and character counts on these might not be 100% accurate. I paste everything into a random thing on Google, so it might be a bit wrong. I might make a part two for this, but for now this is all, it wasn’t too much but I just wanted to write something more.

Masterlist

Request Rules

#naruto x reader #naruto #gaara x reader #gaara sabaku X reader #gaara fluff #gaara drabbles #gaara headcanons #gaara sabakuno #reader insert #character x reader

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akystaracer22 · 9 months ago

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Distrust Fall:

A leap of faith gone wrong, an eternal promise kept eternally. No matter how long it has been some things never truly change.

Notes

How to fail a trust fall: Step one

Vaggie's relationship with Adam is very complicated, but at the moment there is a lot of animosity and it shows.

Adam is of the opinion that Sorry doesn’t mean jack shit if you make the mistake again, so he just doesn’t apologise because he thinks he’ll just fuck up again so there’s no point.

The hotel needs a licensed therapist at this point dear lord.

Alastor still isn’t over the whole “Radio is fucking dead” thing.

If there is one thing that Adam knows off by heart, it’s the names of animals scientific or otherwise. That was the guys job once upon a time and assuming he doesn’t know that stuff is the true quickest way to piss him off. He’s also really good with animals which pisses off Anthony because Fat Nuggets *likes* Adam and it drives the sinner up a wall.

Alastor and Lucifer are on the ground. Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, and Adam are on the roof.

Alastor was going to let him get a cm from the ground before catching him dw.

Lucifer used to be friends with Adam in the garden because I live for that sweet sweet friends to enemies tragedy.

Adam really does not like people staring at his face, it’s a mild form of scopophobia caused by his time in heaven with people always giving him shit for how he looked, particularly his facial features (Yes I drew on everyone calling him ugly and average on twitter and shit). He used the mask to get around it, that way people couldn’t actually see what he looked like.

This was originally 1260 but then I got an idea that blew this out by 500 words lol.

The graveyard with be elaborated on in a future connected one shot.

This is officially a fully fledged AU

Regarding Adam's claws, they're gold to combat the greyness of his palette, but also as a nod to Midas, the arrogant king who's touched turned everything to gold. Angelic blood is also gold so if you want you can interpret it as having blood on his hands.

Fingerless gloves because I thing they're neat.

I based Lucifer's wings off of duck wings!

Also Lucifer's angelic appearance was based on space. I heard Sera call Charlie "Daughter of the Morning Star" and I went feral.

He has a full shifting night sky in his wings, clothes, and hat.

Angels have white pupils now I don't make the rules.

References saved my life.

Word count: 1725

(Comic and fic under the cut! Click for better quality)

@irregular-child

Adam leaned away from the edge as the wind drifted through his wings, keenly aware of the fact that his wings wouldn’t break his fall and he did not in fact trust jack shit in hell to break it except the ground.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“I’m with princess perfect this is a fucking death sentence,” Adam agreed, a little reluctantly because it was still the princess of hell, “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Vaggie smirked, because of course she did because she was trying to kill him, he wasn’t that dense, and just shrugged, “I mean, worked for me didn’t it?”

“That wasn’t even a fucking trust fall that was to get you to fucking fly and you know it! Fucking bitch,” The first man scowled and tried to step away from the edge, the crack whore of an arachnid immediately shoving him back up, “Would you fuck off?!”

“Would you stop being a dick?”

“Would you stop sucking them?”

The white jumping spider stared at him for a long moment and Vaggie stepped away from him for once, great! Cool! One person was leaving him alone and soon a second one will!

Great! About fucking time they got the message-

-------]

Lucifer paced nervously around Dazzle’s statue; this was a terrible idea. Having Adam go through a trust fall this early was going to end in disaster one way or another.

The main issue being nobody liked Adam and wouldn’t care if he fell. Hell, Charlies girlfriend has already tried to kill Adam off for good multiple times since he got here!

This was going to be a mess; Alastor was supposed to be catching Adam but he was just standing there looking completely unprepared and-

“Are you going to get ready or not.” Lucifer snapped at the radio demon, wings flicking out behind him in agitation.

“Oh, I have no intention of catching him.”

Lucifer froze, his tail stilling before lashing behind him as he turned on the deer-eared sinner, “What.”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I heard you alright, and I think you should try that again.”

“And why are you getting so worked up, hm?” The sinner hummed, sneering down at the king, “Last I checked, the first man was your enemy after he tried to kill your own daughter.”

“I-” Lucifer paused, then scowled because Alastor was right. Why was he getting so worked up over this. This was Adam they were talking about. Adam who was crass and rude and cold to everyone. Adam, who would rather sit in his room all day than even look at any of them. Adam who was…

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

…

“I can see why they left me for you.”

…

“It is good to see you again my friend! Come, much has changed since your last visit!”

… Adam who was so much more than who he was now. Who was probably the only person left in hell that remembered Eden.

Damnit.

“That’s none of your business you son of a bitch,” The fallen angel snapped at the cannibal, eliciting nothing more than a growing grin from the bastard.

Not a day went by in hell where Lucifer wished that this wasn’t his circus and that the sinners weren’t his monkeys.

Someone screamed above him.

The seraphim whipped his head up, eyes widening as he registered Adam twisting the air as he was shoved off the roof by Angel Dust.

Fear struck his heart like an exorcists blade when the first man tried to use his wings to glide, only for a single wing beat to send him into a spiral hurtling towards the ground.

He caught Adams eye for a single moment before it was obscured by his good wing, the man was terrified. He didn’t know sinners reformed after death and despite it all. Lucifer would never wish someone to experience falling from their death after quite literally falling from heaven.

Not even on Adam.

Something in his heart spurred the king into action, kicking off the ground as his wings snapped open to catch the air. A single beat of his wings and he was already well off the ground.

Lucifer reached a hand up for Adam as the fallen angel reached out to him in kind, panic written across both their faces at the idea of a horrible accident.

Lucifer’s wings moved the air one more time and-

“And… you will catch me?”

Lucifer laughed softly, a gentle chiming sound from where he stood behind Gods first man. He was trying to show him a game Lucifer and his kin would play from time to time amongst the spires of heaven.

The game was simple, one angel was to stand up high with their wings folded and fall. Then the other angel was to catch them. It was supposed to build trust, not to mention it was a delight in and of itself.

Standing amongst the grasses of Eden, Lucifer saw no reason not to share this game with Adam. He’s already grown fond of the way that Gods creation would go out of his way to show the angel what he’d been up to since his last visit.

“Be not afraid my friend!” Lucifer’s wings spread quietly to punctuate his point, divine magic threading his words, The Voice ensuring that the first man would hear and believe him.

“No matter how far you fall, I shall always be there to catch you.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms securely around the fallen angel as his wings curled around wing and man alike, bracing himself as the added weight as they both fell together.

It’s funny, it reminded him of when Adam first fell, a fiery ball that could have almost been mistaken as a shooting star had Lucifer not known better.

They hid the ground with a slam and the fallen seraphim had to bite back a shriek as his wings took the brunt of the force. They’d be left aching for a while.

Lucifer grunted as he pushed Adam off of him, sitting up and folding his wings in, allowing them to slip out of existence while they healed, he definitely didn’t want to do that again.

He slowly got to his feet while the first man got his bearings, dusting himself off and rubbing his shoulders to try and alleviate the pain.

“Why the fuck did you save me?”

Lucifer jerked and looked down at Adam from where he was glaring up at him, a note of confusion held carefully in his gaze before it dropped.

“I-”

“Well, isn’t this quite a surprise!”

Lucifer’s expression shot into a scowl as he rounded on the radio demon very blatantly interrupting the moment. The bastard just grinned and stared down at the both of them.

From the corner of his eyes Lucifer noted Adam’s good wing hitching up instinctively to cover his face from the demons gaze before dropping.

Lucifer turned his attention back to the radio demon with a glare that could melt steel, “You were going to let him fall,”

“I was going to do no such thing,”

“You just said-!”

“I said nothing you just assumed I was going to do nothing at all!”

“Listen here you!” Lucifer was just off again by the main doors opening and the other’s all barrelling out at the commotion.

Lost in the sudden onslaught of attention and having to field Alastor’s snarky comments, Anthony’s suggestive remarks, and Charlie’s concern, he didn’t see Adam flee the scene.

It wasn’t until much later that he was able to recognize the first man’s absence, searching the hotel to see if Adam was okay.

He found him at the graveyard, sitting among the many tombstones for the exorcists slain in the battle that caused Adam to fall.

Lucifer paused at the entrance to the burial ground, watching Adam sit there facing away from him for what felt like an eternity.

Despite the dead being gone, the king of hell still felt like the exorcists weapons were pointed at him, a warning that if he made one wrong move they would rise from their graves to protect their leader, to avenge him, to strike Lucifer down in an instant.

The once-angel of the morning star carefully stepped away from the cemetery, making sure he didn’t break the silence. Even if Adam wanted to be disturbed, he wasn’t the right person to do it, not in this place.

Besides, he still had his own thoughts to sort through, like why in the name of the divine he saved Adam when he would have survived regardless. He would have been fine even if he did hit the ground unimpeded so why-

Lucifer grimaced as the answer stuck to him like a parasite, he knew damn well why he saved him. It was the same stupid reason he preened Adams wings for him, the same reason he treats the first man’s wing rot and the exact same reason he made that deal with Adam after he fell.

He was attached.

Stupids horribly foolishly, Lucifer still cared for Adam even after everything.

By the stars he beat Adam within an inch of his life! Adam tried to kill his daughter!

But emotions were hardly logical. They weren’t logical when he fell for Lilith in the garden and taught her and Adam both The Voice, they weren’t logical when he freed Eve, and they weren’t logical now.

Lucifer cared for Adam, even if by all logic he should hate the man.

“Dad?”

Lucifer looked up to meet his daughters eyes, a small smile letting her know he was okay, “Hey there Duckie.”

Charlie’s expression softened at the nickname even if he still looked concerned, “Dad… are you sure you’re okay?”

“If I’m not now, I will be, so stop worrying about little old me Char-char,” Lucifer chuckled, “However… Adams in the graveyard if you want to talk to him, he seems like he needs some company right now.”

He made his exit quickly after that, he knew what Charlie would do, it was in her nature to help people, it was what made her so special.

But Lucifer, he helped people once, and now… he had a new person he could help again.

And he might just know where to start.

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kissitbttr · 7 months ago

Note

i love the frat boys so imagine them taking care of muñeca whenever mig isn’t there (which is like never but let’s imagine)

“y/n !! what do you want for breakfast?”

“that’s not her name! it’s muñeca, glen!”

“do you want o’hara to kill you, man?!”

“yeah, well?! he isn’t here!”

dear lord it’s only 8 in the morning and she swears her head is about to explode,

miguel had to clock in at work early than usual, leaving his girlfriend at the house. as much as he hates the idea of it, he’s got no choice. not just the fact that he didn’t get the chance to have a lazy morning with her but also the fact that he’s leaving her with the boys, too.

he loves them but they could be a real pain in the ass and a major flirt, except for beck.

“just call me if one of them tries to do something with you, cariño— i love you”

it’s what he said before leaving,

not even an hour after he’s gone that his frat brothers are making her lose her mind with all the noise,

she sighs as she massages her temple, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee between hands. one that is made by glen, surprisingly tasting a bit better that what her boyfriend usually makes,

“guys! i’ll eat anything i swear—just please shut. up” she groans softly, pulling the hems of miguel’s thick knitted sweater that clings onto her body, protecting her from chilly morning air,

carlos shakes his head, arms crossed. “that is not an answer! what. do you. want. to. eat!”

“carlos! i swear to fucking—“

“banana bread maybe, or muffins? what does miguel usually get for you anyway? ah! matcha, isn’t it!” glen interrupts with a smile,

“oooh, how about a nice BLT? you know there’s a rookie here who knows how to make a mean BLT sandwich and you could hire him for the rest of your day to be your slave! just until miguel comes back” carlos suggests, ready to call whoever his name is

“oh my god, don’t say that word” she responds, taking another sip. “you are banned from using that”

“what, ‘hire’?” carlos looks genuinely confused,

she heaves out a heavy sigh, it’s like talking with children. “no. the S word” her eyes dart between the other guys who are looking like they’re ready to serve her with whatever it is she desires.

did miguel put them up to this?

“guys guys come on, she’s big enough to handle shit on her own” beck tells them, popping himself a canned of black coffee and she secretly thanks him for being the most logical one. “but just in case you want a croissant or something just let me know”

“i’ll pick something up from the bakery, just let me borrow your keys” she replies and getting ready to stand up, earning a collective of no’s and hands holding out to stop her. “you all realize that i’m not five?!” she’s getting a tad bit irritated,

“gotcha but!” carlos holds his point finger up, “we’re all instructed to take care of you—“

“no we didn’t?”

“chang, you’re ruining it, shut the fuck up” carlos glares at his asian frat brother who’s hands are up as if to show defense. “anyways—we are instructed to take care of you and if miguel finds out that we’re doing a terrible job at it, all of us are dead. literally”

“i think you’re just exaggerating, carlos” she tries to smile despite wanting to kill him. “he’s not capable of killing anyone”

“didn’t he get into a fight with two guys for staring at your ass and talking about how they’d use you at the same time?” glen chimes in, leaning forward on the kitchen table,

“that doesn’t count, it was not a fight, it was a slaughter. o’hara went apeshit” beck chuckles, taking a seat beside her,

“okay well that happened nearly months ago” she points out at the specific memory, one where she had to stop miguel from going overboard. she’d hate it if her boyfriend went to jail for what happened, “it’s all in the past”

“yeah well those two men are still on his black list” beck shrugs, “you know how serious he gets when it comes to you, kid”

she sighs for what it feels like a hundredth time that morning. “okay you know what, if it gets you all to be quiet, especially you carlos” she throws a soft glare at the man who’s wearing an innocent smile, standing tippy toes. “then just—can i please have that BLT sandwich? i am starving”

carlos claps his hands, “absolutely, you gorgeous human being! oi, rookie! get down here! muñeca needs breakfast!” he calls out the boy from downstairs,

“holy—carlos! why did i just tell you?!” beck snaps, narrowing his eyes at his frat brother,

“oh, my bad—i mean, mrs. o’hara needs breakfast!”

#frat!miguel

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haunt1ngfaces · 4 months ago

Text

A request for Alpha13-13

Request: A maid who once worked for Lady Dimitrescu gets sent off to work with Donna Beneviento

Word count:2k

“The castle today seemed more tense, with the company of another lord none other than the lord Donna Beneviento and her rowdy doll Angie. The ladies of the castle kept the doll occupied as they would terrorize the other servants while her companion discussed matters and other things with Lady Dimitrescu.

Matters of things with mother Miranda were rarely discussed while you had accompanied them standing in the far corner waiting for any order ready to be barked. Though while none came at the moment, your gaze was fixated on the woman in clad. She didn’t speak but instead listened to the lady ramble on about everything and anything, but at times she’d hum in thought or agree with a nod of her head.

The lady seemed to come by more often as lately, she wouldn’t talk but listen to what the lady asked by nodding or shaking her head. The visits were all the same except for today when the ladies and her doll were barging in. “Auntie Donna! Tell Angie to stop cheating at hide and seek” lady Daniela complained out. The woman in clad slowly turned over to the woman who was huffing at the smaller doll who cackled in her face. Lady Dimitrescu tsked shaking her head “Girls, you should know manners and respect to know well to not barge in so unpronounceable” the lady scolded. The girls all apologized ‘sorry mother’ or ‘sorry auntie’. The doll maker’s arms drawn out to her doll who climbed up in her arms looking at you with a giggle.

“So Donna, have you asked the question yet?” Angie asked while the woman tensed up all of a sudden. Lady Dimitrescu’s fine eyebrow raised in question but turned to her daughters “girls excuse us” she dismissed them with a wave of a hand. They all dispersed into flies and left the room now leaving you alone with the lords. Lady Dimitrescu said nothing yet but sipped her tea. The doll Angie was looking back and forth between the two and sighed.

“Our house is getting hard to take care of even though she won’t ask but she wants to know if we could have a maid” Angie says crossing her arms and lord tensing up her shoulders “I’m really asking because she’ll argue and say she doesn’t but the house is looking terrible!” Angie ends with a huff. Lady Dimitrescu barks a laugh “Dearest, why didn’t you ask much sooner? I’d be glad to hand you over a maid to provide support for your manor” she explained with a smile before standing up to her full height.

“Come now, let us find a preferred maid for your suits” she told the lady who sat there while the doll looked at you. You felt your whole body tense getting caught at eavesdropping on the whole situation quickly turning away. “We want that one!” The doll yelled pointing at you. Your face turning back to the lady of the castle who turned to face you, her face questioning before a smirk. “An acceptable choice my dear, she is dutiful and rather quiet im sure she’ll meet to your…” she paused now looking over at you with her heels clicking on the floor with a loud boom as she looms over ahead of you “…standards.” She finishes.

Your head now bowed to the lady, she turned to look at the other lord “would you like her to be sent off today Donna dear?” She asked, walking to the lord, setting her hands gently on her shoulders. The other lady paused seemingly thinking before nodding her head, this caused the doll to whoop loudly. Now the lady of the castle turned back to you. “Go and get ready.” She demanded flipping her hand for you to be sent off.

That was the last sentence the lady had said to you before you and the other lady now sat in front of each other in a carriage. Her hands sat upon her lap while her doll Angie swung her feet back and forth. “I’m so excited to have someone to finally talk to and boss around!” The doll cackled out before saying “we’ve been planning on asking for you for weeks-OW!” The doll abruptly said out as the lady flicked her head while her own shook. The sight made you smile at the whole situation.

The whole ordeal made you scared at the sudden change but nonetheless excited for the unexpected. “Lady Angie, if I may ask, why me?” I ask with a hoarse voice after not talking for such a long time making you clear your throat. The lord in front of you seemed so small, with her hands anxiously grasping each other. “Well why not! You’ve been in there ever since so we chose you! Get used to it good lookin!” Angie explained pointing a single porcelain finger towards you.

The nickname made your eyebrow raise in question side eyeing the lord as you talked to Angie, her only response was a hand that dismissed the name and shook her head.

The weighing reality of where you were now headed seemed to finally dawn on you, but getting away from the castle…away from the screams that filled the night air constantly, or the dreadful feeling of being watched, or constant fear of being turned into wine.

The carriage came to a full stop, you two were now at a door or rather an elevator. With your suitcases in your hand you trudged towards the cramped box along with the lord. She stayed in the furthest corner away from you, afraid she’d touch a maid like you perhaps. The elevator jolted, making you sway a bit before looking around in surprise. The doors creaked open to reveal the manor and a loud waterfall crashing down in the background.

Letting the lady walk ahead of you, you merely followed, absorbing the sight. “you…have a magnificent house my lady” you shyly said. You didn’t know if she was okay with you speaking or if she was like the ladies of the castle and would cut your tongue from your throat if anything else was said besides what was expected. Her veiled head turned slightly towards your way before turning back to the door and opening it.

“Thanks toots!” Angie thanked hopping off into the house giggling away manically. How she had so much pent up energy even after accompanying the sisters was a mystery to you.

‘…Wait, does she get tired even if she’s a doll?’ You thought. Turning your head back to the lady in front of you, her hands were still grasping each other tightly across her abdomen.

‘A nervous tick maybe?’

Clearing your throat you began to ask “my lady where would you like me to put these?” You asked about the suitcases in your hand. Still not saying a word to you, she instead grew closer to you. Her height is an inch or two below you even in heels, but her hands slightly brushed yours to grasp your suitcases in her hand. Your breath stilled before stuttering out “my lady I can hold them…you don’t need to do such a thing” you say but you were met with her shaking her head.

Not knowing what to do, you simply followed her as she went upstairs. Her steps reminded you of a ghost wisping by on a haunting night. Her figure stopped at a door waiting for you to open it, taking the hint you walked past her to head inside the room. You were met with a small quaint room, and in the room was a bed along with a desk and a dresser. It was much better than the castles as you slept in a room along with all the other maids.

Behind you she set the suitcases along the desk.

From what you could tell so far this woman, this lord, is deemed to be a nice woman. “Thank you my lady…you didn’t have to of course” you thanked her again, but she just shook her head. “Really I’m your maid you shouldn’t have” I said again but you were met with a soft voice that could’ve been missed if the house wasn’t so quite “…and a guest” she said. Her voice was hoarse and lowly feminine, it caused a small smile to break on your face.

So now in the Beneviento manor you were a maid and a guest, but with how everything has been going now you weren’t sure where exactly you stood. Walking up to the workshop doors, you knocked three times before walking in. You saw Donna hunched over a doll, painting her face with deep concentration before looking at you. Her face smiled fondly at you with the small dimples showing on her face. The meer sight caused your heart to flutter.

“Hello dolcezza” she said fondly before turning her whole body to have your full attention “..is something the matter?” She asked with her smile faltering a little, turning into a concerned expression. “No nothing of the sort my lady” you explained looking over to the doll she was working on. You heard her huff “I told you to call me Donna…” she quietly said which made you chuckle “sorry, a habit” I explained turning back to her.

Her expression changed, she was twirling her hands together again (a nervous tick you confirmed she had) and looking at the floor. This concerned you making you walk closer to her, grasping her hand but only holding her one hand by her finger tips “is something wrong..?” You asked quietly, patiently waiting for her to respond.

You could see her throat bobbing up and down along with her mouth opening and closing, but her hand curled up further into your own causing you to look down at them and back up to her face. The small action made your face feel like it was lit up with a fire, but once you saw her expression it seemed your inferno only spread to her as well.

“Please..” she whispered to you slowly looking at your face, but she didn’t continue her sentence or she hesitated as soon as she met your eyes.

“Please what my lady..?” You asked now, lacing your fingers with hers, but her face only flushed. Standing up out of the chair she was in while keeping your hand in hers, her one eye focusing entirely on yours. You scanned her beautiful face, the day she had trusted you with seeing her true self was a day you would never forget…and ever since she did her face never escaped your mind.

The distance between you two was almost to none, you could feel her breath hitting against your neck slightly and a tad bit unevenly. ‘What is she thinking?’ You thought.

“Please tesoro…say my name” she softly demanded but her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. Looking at her eye was nearly blown and her cheeks still rosy, but her lips…her strong cupid bow lips slightly parted. The fire inside you only engulfed you further. Staring back at her dark eye and with your breathing erratic “Donna..” you quietly responded, and looking at her so closely…so near to her you just barely stop yourself from pressing your lips against hers.

Her face bloomed a deeper red (it was honestly quite cute) but she hid it by pressing her face softly against your chest. ‘She’s too cute it’s killing me..’ you thought to yourself. She haggard a breath and exhaled “mi stai uccidendo..” she whispered before looking at you again making your heart stutter. “Again” she demanded, and with such a phrase as little as that it still made your face burn immensely.

“Donna” you said confidently before continuing “Donna…you have such a lovely name” you boldly say but after it escaped your mouth you just hoped she wouldn’t be offended at such honesty, but her response only made it clear that she was far from it. She exhaled loudly, fanning against your neck as her hand that was laced with yours squeezed. She looked at you intensely before her eyes darted towards your lips.

‘Did she..?’

But before you could think about it further her eyes darted back towards your own “and it’s lovely to hear you say it tesoro..” she whispers, but hearing that come from her mouth oh so sweetly it only snapped something inside you. With your one free hand slowly coming to cup her soft jawline, and your eyes no longer looking at hers but shamefully looking towards her lips while inching so dangerously close but enough room to allow her to stop you.

“Donna..” you whispered softly with your thumb tracing the bottom of her lip “can I kiss you?” You asked looking back towards her eye which widened and blown out, but she didn’t respond with words, only a nod of her head. Taking this you finally leaned in towards her lips after dreaming of this moment for so long, and kissing her soft delicate lips burned everything within your being. You are a burning flame but now you are both burning, both burning so brightly and engulfed in the flames that have been stoked upon for so long.

Pulling back to look at Donna, who slowly opened her eye to stare back into yours smiled so bright and shyly with her dimples showing, you smiled back just as big. Releasing the hand you two were holding you slowly wrapped them around her waist, she responded with a shy giggle pushing her face between your neck “oh..I’ve wanted to do that for so so long” she said out loud breathlessly. You smiled leaning back so she could look toward your face with a concerned expression, though still smiling it calmed her a bit. “I’m glad, because I have wanted to as well” you admitted, as she shyly smiled but leaned up to kiss your cheek fondly.

You were a maid, a guest, and now a lover of lord of the mist Donna Beneviento.

#donna beneviento re8 #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil eight #donna beneviento #donna re8 #donna #donna benevento x reader #Donna Beneviento fic #fanfic #donna beneviento fics #fic rec #my fic

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thelovelylolly · 10 months ago

Note

Hello, dear! I saw your prompts for Valentine’s Day and if it’s possible I thought about number 3 (“god, you always make me blush so damn much.”) with Billy Hargrove, where he is always flirting with the reader and teasing… And it isn’t relevant but if it’s okay maybe the reader be plus size, since there aren’t many fics with it. I’m terrible at describing things especially in English, so sorry if it’s a little confuse

Thank you 💙

Makin' Me Blush

Summary: He gets under your skin, but you love it Warnings: reader is described to be curvier, ooc billy bc thats the only way i write him lol Word Count: 602 Notes: good lord i havent written for billy in a WHILE so here we go (i hope u enjoy love <3)

You met Billy on his first day at Hawkins High. He was in one of your classes and sat behind you. Your teacher assigned you to catch him up and help him with the class, and that led to your friendship with him. Though, he toed the line between friends and more.

He constantly teased you and flirted with you, something you tried to brush off. You had learned when you were younger that most boys didn't really like you, usually using you as a bet or prank. You weren't "pretty" like the other girls that would get asked out on dates, and you had come to terms with that.

You were beautiful, you knew that, but you were just meant to be with someone outside of Hawkins.

Billy's flirting didn't really affect you, just making you blush. You always replied with some flirting or a making jab at him.

What you didn't know was Billy really liked you. His flirting wasn't a joke or anything like that. He wanted to be around you, he wanted to hear your voice and laughter, he wanted to be with you. But he couldn't communicate it easily, having grown up in a household that didn't give him good examples of love.

So, he just flirted with you and teased you, hoping that you would catch on.

It took a while, but one day, you and Billy were walking around Hawkins. You didn't have a specific destination, you two just wanted to walk and talk together.

Since you weren't going anywhere special, you threw on your favorite top and jeans with your old converse. You didn't think you looked any different than usual, but to Billy, you looked gorgeous no matter what you were wearing.

As you two walked down the street, Billy saw a car about to pass by you two. He gently put his hands on your waist and moved you around so he was between you and street. It was a sweet yet simple gesture, and had your face heating up.

"God, you always make me blush so damn much," you mumbled, hiding your face in your hands.

"What was that?" He asked. Both of you slowed to a stop and turned to each other.

"Nothing, just...you're always making me blush. Why?" You replied, your hands slipping into your pockets as you looked at your shoes.

"Isn't it obvious?" He tilted your face up with his finger, making you look at him as he leaned in closer. "I really, really like you, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened as a smile pulled at your lips. "You...like me? T-this isn't some joke?"

"Why would I ever joke about this?"

"Well..." You trailed off, hoping he could put two and two together.

"Oh..." He said, his hands going to your sides and running up and down your curves. "They're all dumbasses to pass on a smart, funny, beautiful girl like you."

He leaned in, but you were the one to close the gap. You could feel him smile against your lips as his hands wrapped around to your back, pulling you closer. You arms wrapped around his neck, one of your hands getting lost in his curls. You couldn't think of anything else in that moment, only how good of a kisser Billy Hargrove was.

When you pulled away, you two were breathless. Still, Billy smiled at you and, if you already weren't blushing enough, you nearly melted under his love filled gaze.

"You're cute when you blush," he said.

You breathlessly laughed, a smile settling on your face.

"I hope you keep making me blush, then."

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fiction

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love. ❤️

I love that you sent this to me while I was still asleep, BEFORE the conversation we had this morning about me having 259 fanworks on AO3. I mean, I think you would have done it anyway, but still: asking me to pick a top five is extremely cruel and unusual behaviour 🤣

So. In no particular order in reverse chronological order because I just went through my works list to decide, kiwiana's five favourite kiwiana fics (at least today, because I definitely have the 'can't pick favourites' flavour of neurospicy):

Like loving the stars themselves

[RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 7.2k words]

When he emerges out the other end of the alleyway and almost runs straight into a solid blue wall that wasn’t there last time he visited this area of town, Henry assumes his wandering thoughts have conjured an illusion. He blinks, and blinks again, but it’s still there: NORA’s unassuming back wall, the broken chameleon circuit now over thirty centuries out of date to blend into her surroundings the way she’s supposed to, her anomalous presence a wrench in Henry’s carefully laid plans. Alex is here. Or, Alex is a Time Lord, and time is complicated; Henry keeps meeting him out of order, and it's been a while.

I just... I genuinely think this is the best thing I've ever written. Along with Much Ado, it's the fic that is most strongly Peak MJ Vibes, and I am really fucking proud of the story crafting in this one. I LOVE writing fics, particularly one-shots, that have such a strong sense of the wider world they sit in while still being a satisyfingly complete story in their own right, and I don't think I've ever done that better than I did here. If you have no knowlege of Doctor Who, I PROMISE you do not need to be scared of this fic lol.

Puck It

[RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 9.7k words]

“I’m English, dear,” Henry tells him, and fuck if the nickname isn’t doing something to Alex too. “Our national sport is rugby, and we play it with a lot less protective gear. Though,” he adds thoughtfully, “rugby players do wear mouth guards, which means they have the significant advantage of generally keeping all their teeth.” “We wear mouth guards.” It’s a common misconception, and one that annoys the shit out of him. “And I’ve still got all my teeth. Wanna check?”

HOCKEY! HOCKEY! THE GREATEST GAME IN THE LAND! This fic is so wildly different to what I intended it to be, but I absolutely love what it turned into. The college hockey AU that is somehow not quite a college AU and not quite a hockey AU, but is also definitively both. I love love LOVE both Alex and Henry in this, and I adore this fic.

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

[RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 65.5k words]

Alex is a former child star struggling to make the transition into being seen as a serious actor. He jumps at an opportunity to perform on stage in the UK, seeing it as a way to break free from the typecasting and show what he can really do. But he wasn’t prepared to star alongside someone he hates. // Henry is a recent theatre graduate who accepts an amazing role in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing. And then it turns out his co-star is none other than the man he’s been hopelessly pining after for years—even though Henry made a terrible first impression when they met. // It’s… well, it’s practically Shakespearean.

First of all, I dropped chapter one of this fic one year ago today, so happy ficaversary to Much Ado! And... yeah. There's no universe in which this fic doesn't end up in my top five. I wrote this fic in a ~five week fever dream and it's probably only coherent because of @celeritas2997 and @ships-to-sail putting in a bunch of hard beta work lmao. It's just SUCH a love letter to theatre, to Shakespeare, to the power of queer joy. All things that are so fucking important to me!

And all the rest's illusion

[Schitt's Creek, David/Patrick, T, 1.8k words]

The first time David uses the word 'queer' to refer to him, it brings Patrick up short.

AKA 'MJ projects their feelings about how goddamn amazing the word queer is and makes a bunch of people cry, apparently'. This was a little bit of a spite reaction to ahistorical, ~q slur~ takes on queer as an umbrella term and I stand by that. Also, whenever I'm feeling like my writing isn't important/doesn't reach people/isn't adding any value to the world, I read through the comments on this fic and have a good cry. If YOU are feeling Not Queer Enough, I highly recommend reading through the comments on this fic and have a good cry even if you're not a Schitt's Creek person.

How much love will you happily take

[Schitt's Creek, David/Patrick, T, 8.0k words]

The trouble is, they don’t really have any privacy outside of the store — at least one member of David’s family is always at the motel, and Ray has never met a boundary he won’t cheerfully skip over. Neither of those seem like the ideal place to say 'so, I’m actually a virgin' or 'funny thing, apparently my dick’s so big no one wants to have sex with me', but the store hardly seems like an appropriate place to have that conversation either.

This started out as size kink and turned into eight thousand words of psychological kink analysis. I gave MULTIPLE people a humiliation kink with this one and I am, not joking, exceptionally fucking proud of that. LOVE to help people realise things about themselves with my writing.

#five favourite fics #kiwiana-writes

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jamdoughnutmagician · 8 months ago

Text

Starlight

Rhysand X Reader (ACOTAR) 18+

Word count:1,470

Summary:Rhys can't take it anymore, the sight of you in that dress has been driving him wild all night, he has to have you now. (Sucky summary I know, but really this is nothing more than shameless smut)

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

“You know, as a High Lord it is my duty to attend these balls,” Rhysand smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him as he stalked towards you. “..but if I had it my way, we’d be spending this evening tangled up in these sheets and exploring each other’s bodies until the sun came up.”

He worked his fingers down the black dress shirt he’d been wearing, shrugging it off his broad frame, his wings flexing as if to shake off the stress of the day.

“Poor Rhysie, it must be so terrible to have to attend all these grand parties.” you smirk at him, eyeing him in the reflection of the mirror as you unpin your hair from its tousled up-do, letting your hair fall free around you.

“You don’t know how tortuous it has been for me to see you in this dress and not be able to fully appreciate you in the way that I want. In the way that you deserve.” his voice a low and dark rumble as his hands skim down the curve of your waist, flattening around the gentle sweep of your hips.

“Well, you’ve got me alone now, my Lord, why don’t you make good on your words and treat me as you so please.”

“Darling, it would be my honour.” he purrs, his lips kissing your bare shoulder once more.

Your hands reach behind your neck, to unclasp your necklace, a glittering crystal star that reflects a dazzling rainbow against your skin as the bright light of the moonlight from the window gazes upon it. It had been a present from Rhys, a mating present, that he insisted on when you both had chosen each other forever.

“No, leave it on. I want this to be the only thing you wear as I watch you come undone for me.”

You flush under his words, the heat blooming across your face.

“This dress, however lovely as it may be, has to go I’m afraid.” his voice whispers in your ear.

The dress had been a flowing midnight blue gown, flowing out around you in silken layers, silver crystals gleaming like starlight accenting the fabric. Nothing less than breathtaking for his High Lady he had said.

He kissed your shoulder once before his fingers began working on the buttons of your dress, unclasping them one by one down the length of your back, kissing every new inch of soft skin that was revealed to him as he went.

“So beautiful my Darling..” he purrs, as his fingers reach the last button of your dress, letting the material pool at your feet, leaving you in only your most delicate lace undergarments.

“If I had known that this is what was hiding underneath this dress, I would have pulled you away from that party a lot sooner than I did, my dear.”

Turning around to face him, you keep your eyes on him as your hand reaches behind your back to flick the clasp of your bra open, letting the straps fall from your shoulders. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties you work them down the length of your legs before stepping out of them.

There you are, laid bare before your High Lord, his violet eyes darkening as he drinks in every delectable curve of your body.

You step towards him, your hips gently swaying with every step.

“Pleased to see me, are we, Rhys?” your teasing voice smirks as your hand reaches out where the bulge in his dark dress slacks is pressing against the fabric. The barrier of material between where your hand is rubbing his cock through his pants causes a delicious friction that has the man in front of you shuddering with unsteady breaths.

You take pity on him and unbutton his slacks, letting the considerable length of him spring forward. Impressively hard and glistening with the pearlescent evidence of his arousal. Your mouth waters just at the mere thought of him gently pushing you to knees and tasting every veiny inch of him. Pushing his trousers down enough for him to step out of them.

I want to feel you spilling your release against my tongue.

Just as you're about to fulfil your fantasies of pleasuring him, just before you sink to your knees, he reaches a hand out to your shoulder.

“Not that I wouldn’t love that idea darling,” he says, upon hearing your thoughts down the mating bond. “But I can’t wait another minute without being buried deep inside you.”

His hand reached down between your legs, his fingers swapping along the wetness at your core.

“Well, it seems my High Lady is as excited to see me as I am, her.” he teases in that silky smooth voice of his.

Your hand finds its way to his cock, coasting your hand up the length of him, twisting your fist over the head of him before stroking back down.

Rhys wastes no time in picking you up in his strong arms, holding you up against the wall, caging you safely in the cradle of his arms, his wings tucked in behind him.

Your thighs wrap around him, legs locking around his narrow waist, hands tracing the intricate dark swirls of his tattoos, light and teasing.

He places the tip of his cock at your entrance, teasing your clit with the head before plunging himself into your heat. Sheathing himself in the tightness of your walls.

He stills his movements, allowing you that brief moment to collect yourself, to adjust to the fullness of him, as he leans in to capture your lips in a clash of tongues.

Pulling away from your lips, he gives you that wicked smirk once more.

“Hang on tight, Darling, you’re in for it tonight.”

His hips snap into action, thrusting up into you with deadly precision, filling you over and over again with every throbbing inch of his cock.

You surrender to the pleasure, letting your mate play with your body in the way he so pleases, moaning unashamedly as he pulls his hips back almost all the way before

slamming into you to the hilt once more.

“Gods above, Darling, you feel like heaven.” he moans out, fucking his hips up into you once more.

His wings tense up as he continues to fill your cunt with every inch of him that he can, low moaning growls resonating in your ear.

You can't help but marvel at his wings. So beautifully, and devastatingly impressive. Dark and bat-like in their appearance. Your hands instinctively reaching out to touch them, fingertips skating across their spiny edge with feather-light touches.

You smirk to yourself proudly when you feel Rhys shiver under your touch. He'd told you before that his wings were very sensitive, and that he could find his climax from the sole touch of your hands upon his wings alone. That knowledge was something that you used against him at every opportunity, to watch his growling moans go from desperate, whimpering whines in a matter of minus, all from the gentle caress of your hands on his wings.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin, sloppily thrusting his hips into you as he desperately chases his high.

“Please, my love, I need to feel you…” he whispers hotly into your ear.

He reaches a dexterous hand between your joined bodies, the pads of his fingers circling your clit so perfectly that it had you clinging onto his broad shoulders even more. Your own moans become nothing more than high-pitched whines as your cunt pulses around him. Clenching around his length with a breathy whine of your release.

“That's it…there's my good girl…” his dark voice growls seductively, his fingers relentlessly still rubbing against your clit, working you through your high.

He holds himself out long enough to allow you your release before he's sheathing himself as far as he can in the welcoming warmth of your walls before he's spilling ropes of his seed deep inside you. Riding out his shuddering high with a deep groan growled against your skin.

He places a sweet kiss to your cheek as he walks you over to the four-poster bed, his softening cock still inside you. Gently he lays you down against the silken sheets, tenderly brushing the hair from your face.

“You're so beautiful, there is not a moment that I don't thank the gods they brought you to me.” He whispers, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“Rhys…” You smile up at him, carding your fingers through his slightly dishevelled dark hair.

“I'd love you for an eternity, if you'd let me, my darling. I'd bring down the stars in the sky if you'd ask. My High Lady, my mate, my one love.”

I know that you probably don't know this character, so you're more than welcome to just completely ignore this! :)

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand x female reader #rhysand x female reader smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar

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lover-of-mine · 4 months ago

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https://x.com/ZenonKarr/status/1821907241382887598

I’m kinda giggling at this. Apparently us BoBs have ruined the word confirmed for the BT fandom 😂😂😂 and it’s “the worst thing we’ve ever done” 😂😂😂

It’s so morbidly fascinating to me how their thought process works.

Like slurs death threats phobic behavior? Trying to fake contract information (I’m still in disbelief that happened yesterday 😂) All acceptable things in their mind since they do it so frequently.

Using the word confirmed? Oh no. No no no. How dare we! It’s Unacceptable and fandom ruining. Terrible people. We have ruined lives because of this!

(Also the weird little run on story about the person being stung by a bee in Buck Township had me dead 😂 it’s so specific)

They paid a guy to say the relationship was thriving while it clearly wasn't and made it everyone's problem and somehow when we make shit about buddie we're ruining words. Oh for heaven's sake. They did everything. Some of them were ready to turn on Gavin. The way they treat Ryan is..... But we're ruining words for having fun. Oh dear lord.

#911 #anon 😌#i really need a tag for asks #spy network #🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

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bucknastysbabe · 2 years ago

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Hey I thought for a long time and this is what I came up with Do you remember the moment when various lords come to woo Rhaenyra in Dragonstone? So. Could you write something where Rhaenyra's daughter (Strong girl, of course) is in the same situation where her mother and Daemon are trying to find her a groom. And she's terribly bored and awkward and disgusted by all these idiots who are just annoying. But then an unexpected character appears who wants her hand and heart. who could it be? Aemon? Aegon? JACAERYS?! choose who you want)

Why not all three dear anon😏 I want to develop more on Jace anyways. I know we’ll get more of his dutiful ass in S2. My Aegon loving hopped out but here you go, thanks for asking and enjoy mwah xoxo

Winner takes All

The bastard’s ball, the mummer’s called it down in Flea Bottom. The occasion was reminiscent of Rhaenyra’s revolving door of the lords of Westeros. She ended up marrying her cousin of course. Now her daughter is of age, striking and witty at 8 and 10 years. Though the whispers still ran on account of her thick curls of dark brown. Some dare would say she had her father’s curls and usually got their tongue cut out for it.

But today was going to be a good day, whether the Velaryon was ready for it or not. She huffed while Baela and Rhaena along with a slew of handmaidens prettied the girl up. She grumbled, “Do I have to be so layered in finery I cannot move? They’re after my station, not the girl who carries it.”

Baela laughed, chestnut hands twisting the other’s hair into elaborate braids, “Who knows? Maybe some grumpy northron lord might change his mind when he sees the jewel of the Velaryons.” Rhaena added, “You’re the most beautiful maiden in the kingdoms!”

She rolled her eyes at the eager cousins.

“Wait until they see my brown hair and turn running,” she waved her hands, “Bastard! Bastard!” Some of the maidens gasped, scandalized at the blunt words. Baela hissed, snatching the girls ringed hand, “Don’t fuel the fires even more, dimwit!” She apologized quickly, “Sorry Baela, but you’re pure and more beautiful than I, Rhaena too.”

The princess settled back down into her braiding and sighed, “I know I have a choice in the matter but it all seems so…forced.”

Rhaena singsonged, “Love will find a way!”

Later the princess stood before the great Iron Throne. A dais was set for her to accept the line of lords. Her sworn sword, Ser Willis Fell, stood quietly behind. Rhaenyra and Daemon had her cornered up. The girl snapped, “I feel like I’m at a Lyseni whore auction.”

Daemon’s thin lips quirked as he laughed, “This is a much more grand affair than that, princess.”

Rhaenyra shook her head and pulled her daughter into a hug, stroking her back in soothing circles. She murmured, “I was just as distraught as you were then. Make light of the boys if you can. There’s no chance of intermarriage this time, sweetling.” The younger princess nodded grimly, clinging to her mother.

Daemon snorted derisively at the sound of boots approaching. Rhaenyra and her daughter turned to look at the hand, Otto, his face stern as ever. Rhaenyra sniffed, “I didn’t realize this was a matter for the hand considering it is my daughter.”

Otto hummed, tapping his pin, “Any occurrences revolving around the royal family and it’s dealings need the hand to be here.”

Daemon hissed under his breath, “Green bitch sent em’.”

The princess bowed customarily but her gaze held no warmth for the scheming worm. Otto was a nuisance, seeking to usurp her mother’s birthright for decades. She said, “Lord Hand, you may stand over there and offer consul if needed.” The lean man briskly nodded and took place by Ser Fell.

Rhaenyra hand swept back the princess’s flyaway curls with a soft smile— just for them only. She whispered, “Give them fire and blood, mayhap a smile, my girl.” Daemon leaned on Dark Sister and boomed, “Let the little lords parade begin!”

Otto’s face grew pinched as the others stifled a laugh. She noted surprisingly that Jace wasn’t present, the elder protective brother that he was. The princess stood proud, straightening her shoulders higher than the rigid queen could and beamed at the men filtering into the court. Queen Alicent and Helaena had slunk to the side of the hall, curious to see what the match may entail. Schemer.

The first lord was a young lad, mouth open in awe of the Velaryon’s dress. It was a fine piece of dark tiretaine wool, embroidered with the turquoise stones to emphasize her heritage. Similarly colored jewelry covered her ears and wrists, save the blood red ruby encrusted dragon on her ring finger.

The boy was decked in the garb of the Darklyn’s. The red fusily with the black and yellow diamonds. The princess scoffed and looked to Daemon. The boy chattered, “I have a strong family and a formidable keep to aid m’lady.”

The princess was mortified having to publicly shun the poor thing but said, “Thank you Lord Darklyn, I wish to bear children sooner.” Daemon waved the boy away curtly to start the whole charade over again. Another child. Great.

The parade went on and on, old men, fat men, crippled, so many boys, and even a damn hedge knight. Ser Willis handled that. The princess was going to self combust into dragon fire. Maybe if her dragon was here it would be a quicker affair.

“Next,” called Otto.

A lean, imposing figure stalked up to the dais. The gait looked familiar. He was hooded and knelt primly at her feet. Willis and Daemon drew steel, demanding to stay back.

“It’s only family, uncles,” came a bitter laugh.

The man yanked down his hood, thick silvery strands tumbling down to cascade across broad shoulders. Gasps echoed in the great hall. The smirking face of Aemond Targaryen glanced up at the young princess. He hummed, “I thought I would try my hand at claiming your beauty and uniting the rift between our family.”

Rhaenyra glared daggers at Alicent, spitting in accusation, “Do you think this is a farce? Shame on you!”

Alicent hollered back, “I had no such intentions for this!”

Otto slammed his hand down on a table, commanding the room. The princess yelped in surprise, utterly confounded at the entire situation.

Aemond? Her uncle that hated her family so? The Aemond whose eye was gouged by young Luke. It had to be a cruel jest. The elder prince no much than gave her a curt nod around the keep. She turned to Daemon for guidance. The rogue prince drawled, “Let the princess see if the wretch is worthy of her hand. A skilled warrior, that is all I shall add.”

The princess tapped her thumb on a plump bottom lip in thought. Aemond’s intense gaze held her own— bringing a flush to her cheeks. She said, “The matter of what our families bring to the table is out of discussion then,” she raised a brow, “What inspired this brave attempt at betrothal to the Black’s you hate?”

The brown haired girl flicked her hair, “Certainly not my silver locks or anything, your grace.”

A couple of onlookers laughed, Aemond’s sculpted lips grew pinched at the raucous.

One-eye sniffed airily, chin held high in defiance as he said, “I find your darker curls quite handsome,” he smirked, “You’re intelligent— something I can match you with, hāedar. Much better than these simple spring boys scrambling in their mud-keeps.”

The princess’ lips curled up in a pleased manner. She extended her hand, the ruby catching in the light like a cut wound. Aemond took her dainty hand and kissed the ring with reverence. He beckoned her to lean forward. He murmured into the girl’s ear, “The greens, the blacks. I say nay- let us unite with fire and blood like days of old, my princess.”

Rhaenyra’s perfect baby girl, or once was, grinned wildly down at the stoic prince. Otto and Alicent stared on in horror, same as the Realm’s Delight. Daemon giggled and covered his mouth. Ushering Aemond to stand she turned to her sworn sword.

“Ser Willis? Do you find this to be a suitable match?”

He paused, awkwardly clearing his throat before stating, “The dragon riding and genius of you two is unmatched. I’d say it would be a wondrous union.”

Aemond’s eye carefully crept along her face in anticipation. She demanded haughtily, “Then I have decided. Aemond and I shall wed. Do announce it Lord Hand.” Otto and Rhaenyra simultaneously sputtered and were silenced when the princess spat, “I said announce it!” Otto did so with a frown.

In the midst of the clapping she mused, “What a surprise, dear Uncle. I thought your heart was only held for Vhagar.” They held hands and smiled at the happy crowd. Aemond replied, “Hm. It was time to tame another dragon.” He squeezed her palm gently, a flicker of warmth in his eyes.

The poor Glover boy opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to speak. From the entrance of the Great Hall came loud yelling and scuffling of boots. Daemon cocked his head from behind the young lady, hand flying to Dark Sister.

“Out of the way! I am your damn prince!”

Manic giggling ensued. The princess scoffed in annoyance. She knew exactly who the perpetrator was. Stupid Aegon and his stupid never ending affections. He declared his love for the princess in his cups only to proceed to smash that down in the pillow houses. She wanted to keep the pretty blonde to herself. Like a pet.

A disheveled Aegon appeared with a throughly exasperated Ser Criston. It appeared the prince had even been bathed and dressed— although still drunk as a Braavosi sailor. He shoved the Darklyn boy aside and declared angrily, “How come no one told me about this?”

Rhaenyra snapped, “Willis? Cole? Someone get this drunkard out of here, for the love of the Seven.” Alicent palmed her forehead in embarrassment, the pregnant Helaena smiling in amusement. Otto Hightower rumbled, eyes bulging in wrath, “Prince Aegon, this is unseemly. Do you forget your betrothal to Lady Floris Baratheon?”

Now halfway perched on the wide-eyed Glover lad Aegon snorted, “Ah yes! The illiterate stag bitch,” he waved his ringed fingers, “I come to claim the hand of my beautiful, intelligent, shapely, fiery Dragon niece.” Ser Criston yanked the prince aside, Aegon yelping and stumbling. All eyes turned to the princess in question.

Rhaenyra hissed in her ear, “I will send him out— just say the word. Foolish drunk has played with your heart for years. You’d be even more so the fool if you listen to this proposal.”

The girl sucked in a breath, shrugging off her mother. She spat, “If you would profess your emotions soberly I might consider it,” she sighed, “Bloody beautiful fool.” The brown-haired princess felt her heart constrict at Aegon’s sorry nature, she’d always been so endeared by his inability to fake an emotion. Aegon wore his heart on his green sleeve, no matter how intoxicated.

All Aegon had to do was flash his violet doe eyes and tremble his pretty lips and she was hooked. (Again.) Ser Criston had the prince by the scruff and hissed not-very-quietly, “A betrothal with the Strong? You must be really brain dead.” Spite settled over the girl’s pretty face, hands balling up to dig into her palm. She sat back in the chair adorned with dragons and stated, “Go on your grace, make your point and make it good. Back off Ser Criston.”

Daemon sauntered over to the embittered Dornishman and shoved him off with a playful grin. Aegon laughed in the white knight’s face before being drug forward on bruised knees with an ungainly cry by his uncle. The rogue prince gave Aegon another push and snickered, “Best of luck,” Daemon winked, “cunt.”

The tension in the air could be sliced with a blade. The princess leaned forward with a cat-like smirk, full lips temptingly pouty. She purred, “Why should I take you to be my husband? They think you’ll kill me in my sleep and usurp my mother’s gods given throne.”

Aegon shook his pale curls vehemently, “No, no, I don’t want the throne— never have. M’not fit for rule.” He clasped his hands and shook, begging, “Y’know I’ve always loved you, swear it by the seven!”

Alicent was held back by Helaena much to the Queen’s chagrin. Rhaenyra audibly scoffed at her pathetic half-brother. He knew how to worm his way into her daughter’s good graces— the girl craved complete and utter domination. Wanted a challenge to have it. Aegon was the challenger.

The princess cooed, “You say you love me but drown in whores. I’ll have your cock cut off for adultery if you stray, Uncle. You’ll be mine and mine only.”

He whimpered, “I’d only be your consort, loyal to you. Promise!”

With a swish of black wool the dark haired princess stood up. She announced, “One day for a break to see if Prince Aegon is true to his word,” she frowned, “Sober.” She clapped, commanding the rest of the hall, “If he is still willing, I will be taking his hand. Thank you.”

Aegon cracked a teary smile, clambering to her feet. The blacks and the greens swarmed behind, rife with plots and outright fear. The princess smiled and cooed at Aegon, petting his pretty silver locks. She wanted her progeny to have the same.

She stood from the chair, bored expression morphing into confusion. The hooded figure in front of the princess was familiar— the same body she’d been around since birth. Rhaenyra knew too, mother and daughter exclaiming, “Jacaerys!”

Off came the hood and the girl’s darling brother gazed up, putting on a stern face. The princess asked, “Brother, why are you here? I thought- the North? Our cousins?”

His plump lips twitched, dark eyes searching her own. He knelt to one knee and declared, “I can’t sit back and let my lovely baby sister get whipped away by some old lecher! I want to wed her as our ancestors did. Keep the line pure, us dragonriders are closer to god than men.”

While speaking, the handsome youth kept his gaze directly on the princess. The adults were perplexed. Rhaenyra held an amused look, she had a feeling her two held more than simply sibling affections for one another. Jace watched the girl like a hawk and often got into scraps defending her honor.

Otto hummed, “Aegon is wed to Helaena, I see no reason why not.”

Daemon spat, “Because you want more silver heads to usurp the throne.”

Their voices began to raise as the princess shouted, “Let me speak! This is my choice!” She climbed down to Jace, caressing his lightly stubbles cheek, grinning wildly. The elder fondly looked down, a gloved hand on her shoulder. Rhaenyra would lie later about shedding a tear.

Jace murmured so low just for them both, “I want you, to care and love, to ride our dragons, rule the Seven Kingdoms as Jaehaerys and Alysanne. With honor.”

Tears swam in her eyes. “I love you. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Jace pulled her into a hug and Ser Willis, ever knowing of his princess’ wants, shouted, “The betrothal has been secured.” The crowds were half annoyed, the other half cheered. The princess didn’t care, this was all that she wanted. She captured his pretty lips in a kiss, praising the Seven.

#hotd fic #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #whole gang here #answered ask #asks open #love you all people in my phone

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goodvibesandmemes · 2 months ago

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MOVIE MEMES: “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (1971) 🍬🍫🤸🏽‍♂️ ↳ Please feel free to tweak them etc.

Themes: fantasy, quirkiness, chocolate, sweets/candy,, whimsy, poetry (some lines are actually from poems quoted by the movie)

“A little nonsense, now and then, is relished by the wisest men.” “What would a computer do with a lifetime's supply of chocolate?” “Oh, you should never, never, doubt what nobody is sure about.” “She was a bad egg.” “If the good lord intended us to walk, he never would’ve invented roller skates.” “The suspense is terrible, I hope it will last.” “Stop. Don't. Come back.” “There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going.” ��I am now telling the computer exactly what it can do with a lifetime's supply of chocolate.” “It happens every time, they all become blueberries.” “Impossible, my dear lady! That’s absurd! Unthinkable!” “Time is a precious thing. Never waste it.” “Why? Are you having fun?” “So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.” “We are the music makers; we are the dreamers of dreams.” “Is it raining, is it snowing, is a hurricane a'blowing?” “Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.” “Don't just stand there, do something!” “Gives it a little kick.” “You're an inhuman monster!” “You will live in happiness too.” “All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by. All aboard, everybody.” “The danger must be growing.” “Can it, you nit!” “I think I can safely say your time and money have been well spent.” “Up the airy mountain, across the rushy glen, de daren't go a-hunting, for fear of little men” (as in the little/wee folk/fairies) “They have a good sporting chance, haven't they?” “There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination.” “You're a crook. You're a cheat and a swindler! That's what you are!” “Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous.” “I'll get you one before the day is out.” “I won't tell, that would be cheating.” “I know how anxious you've all been these last few days...” “Delighted to meet you, sir. Overjoyed, enraptured, entranced.” “Spitting's a dirty habit.” “I think it's the most wonderful place in the whole world!” “So shines a good deed in a weary world.” “You get nothing! You lose! Good day, sir!” “Goodbye, [name]. Adieu. Aufwiedersehen. Gesundheit. Farewell..” “It's all there, black and white, clear as crystal!” “No, no, don't speak. For some moments in life, there are no words.” “The strawberries taste like strawberries.” “We're about to witness the greatest miracle of the machine age.” “Now, don't get excited. Don't lose your head, [name]. We don't want anybody to lose that.” “They won't really be burned in the furnace, will they?” “I’m sorry, but all questions must be submitted in writing.” “Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted.” “If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it.” “What is this, [name]? Some kind of funhouse?” “He can't swim.” “Want to change the world? There’s nothing to it.”

#ask meme #movie ask meme #willy wonka ask meme #rp sentence prompts #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starter meme #Ask memes #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka

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nakedcows · 2 years ago

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Hello! I gotta request. I love Aemond as many of the girlies do. But I never find fics for the plus size girls. I’m a firm believer that Aemond would like a plus size woman. When you have a moment of time I’d love to see a plus size reader x Aemond type fic. Of course I’d be here for some spice too. I’d just really like to see more representation ☺️ thank you for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day!

A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I had a draft ready that didn't save so my inspiration took a big hit. I haven't thought about it before, but now that you say it I do think Aemond would lean more toward plus sized women. I can't explain why i just feel like it falls inline with his character. Thank you for your request!!

summary: Aemond gifts Y/n new clothes that inspire her to take the lead tonight

warnings: smut p n v, slight degrading (not of the reader), body shaming (it's not very much don't worry), sub Aemond

Word count 1.4k

Y/n was entranced by the stranger staring back at her in the mirror. The woman standing in her mirror resembled the fair ladies from books she had read as a girl. Ones where brave knights fight to the death and love-struck monarchs conquer kingdoms for the chance to embrace their true love.

The emerald green dress she wore had no sleeves and hung off her shoulders. Y/n was not used to dressing in such a manner she had become accustomed to frumpy, loose fitted clothing that hid her figure. Y/n’s mother had insisted that despite the high ranking of their house, it was imperative to hide the plump figure she had inherited from her to guarantee proposals from the lords of the court. However, her dear Aemond had thought otherwise. He began to court Y/n and questioned why a lady of her rank wore such ill-fitting clothing. After Y/n had confided in Aemond about her mother's advice, he disposed of her dresses and commissioned a new wardrobe of custom-made dresses with matching jewelry for his love. Y/n admired her newfound figure and how her bodice hugged her thick waist instead of hanging loosely. Layers of skirt gracefully laid against her wide hips complimented with embroidery. The mousy-looking girl had disappeared under hair tied in intricate braids decorated with rare jewels and a beauteous dress accentuating her curved figure. Y/n always felt as though she was meant to be invisible, to blend into the background unnoticed and unmentioned unless she was needed. But now, with her full body glittering in the open free to be seen, she felt confident.

“You are enchanting, my love,” Aemond said. He had briefly left for Y/n to dress and retrieve the final piece to her ensemble. Aemond stood behind her, unable to break his gaze from her captivating, newfound appearance.

Aemond delicately clasped a sapphire necklace cut from the same gem in his eye.

“What do you think, dear heart?” he asked as his hands drifted from Y/n’s neck to her shoulders

“I think it’s... perfect,” she said, gliding her hands under her plump chest. “I look perfect.” Y/n smiled brightly at her reflection. The rush of finally recognizing the glowing beauty in her mirror was the same modestly dressed woman that she saw a few hours ago. Y/n felt invincible at this moment she could do anything, say anything and the surefooted woman in her mirror would protect her from fear and persecution with a glance. She turned to Aemond with a new vigor. It was an unfamiliar feeling that bubbled in her core and climbed up to her chest. Aemond had always taken the lead. He led when they held hands when they kissed, and he led when they were intimate. But tonight, she would take command. Y/n grabbed the back of Aemond’s head greedily, pulling him flush against her body for a languid kiss. Aemond grinned into the kiss, stroking her rounded hips, causing the sensation in her core to swell. Y/n slowly pulled from him. Her whole body felt as though someone had set aflame her from the inside.

“You promised me once that you would do anything for me. I need only ask. Is that still true? Y/n asked, meeting his eyes.

“Of course, my dear,” the fingers on his neck glided into his hair to stroke his scalp.

“Then get on your knees for me,” Y/n’s light stroking turned into a tight grip as she yanked Aemond’s head back by his hair. Aemond breath hitched from the sudden tension on his scalp. Y/n had never done this before yet as he prostrated himself before her the hand in his hair leading him to kneel, he felt the blood rushing to his cock.

“What do you wish of me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t think using my name suits you very well my dear,” she said smirking.

“Oh?”

“No, you are a proper gentleman are you not? Then you should refer to me like one. I think ‘My lady’ will do for now, don’t you?” Aemond felt his breeches tighten as she leaned in and paused just before their lips met.

“Answer me Aemond.”

“Yes, my lady,” Y/n closed the gap between them, devouring his lips. Aemond could hear his heart pounding as his member began to throb. He was used to being in control. There was safety in control letting that part of him slip for even a second led to disaster. Aemond craved rest for someone to ease that unmoving tension in his mind and giving his power to Y/n would do just that.

“Good boy, strip and lay on the bed for me,” she said releasing his hair. Aemond stood from his spot on the floor in favor of removing his doublet and breeches before laying on the bed desperate to obey. Aemond felt his length harden as Y/n waltzed up to the bed and slowly skipped out of her sleeves pulling her bodice down, exposing her full breast and removed her small clothes, leaving her the remainder of her dress on. His red tip now peaked out from the protection of its fleshy folds at the sight. His shy elegant lady turned dominating temptress. Aemond reached down to stroke himself but was met with a quick slap.

“Proper gentlemen don’t touch themselves, Aemond. It is quite unseemly,” she said, climbing onto the bed to straddle him.

“Y-Yes my lady.”

“You know improper gentlemen believe they are owed the pleasure they crave-” Y/n pulled her skirt up, revealing thick plush thighs coated in slick from her dripping mound, causing Aemond’s breath to quicken and his cock to throb. “But a proper gentleman asks for his desires, doesn’t he, Aemond? Why don’t you ask me for what it is you desire my dear?” Y/n lowered herself a bit allowing Aemond’s tip to just barely graze her entrance. Aemond gasped, trying to hold himself together. Whenever he had coupled with Y/n, Aemond would take her hips and impale her with his length whenever he felt the urge, yet at this moment doing such a thing without her explicit permission felt as though he would be committing an unforgivable sin of the highest caliber.

“Please my lady, use my cock.” Aemond said, bringing his hands up and sinking his fingers into her soft hips.

“Hmm I don’t know. You don’t seem to want me enough. Perhaps I should stop,” she said slowly lowering her skirt. The gentle throbbing of Aemonds cock developed into torturous ache.

“No, my lady, please I need you. Please let me fill your cunny. I need it. I’m throbbing for you. I need to fill you around me my lady,” Y/n grinned and lifted her skirt once more.

“There you go sweet boy begging for me like a proper gentleman,” Y/n dropped onto his cock taking him all at once. Normally Y/n would ask Aemond to be slow and gentle with her, but here and now, consumed by her newfound vigor, she didn’t want to be gentle. She didn’t want to be delicate. She wanted to take everything for herself. Y/n sank, allowing Aemond to bottom out. He could feel her cunt constrict around his cock as if she wanted to meld him into her insides. Her folds would only briefly release him from their tight grip before clenching around him once again. Y/n could feel Aemond’s cock pulsating inside her. The tip of his cock pressed against the spongy back of her cunt. Y/n rocked her hips, enthralled by how the sensation of absolute control enhanced her pleasure. Aemond felt as though he was unraveling every time Y/n’ hips dropped to meet his. Aemond was consumed with an unrelenting craving that devoured his entire being. He needed her. He needed more.

“Faster my lady! Please, I need more of you!”

“Good boy asking so nicely for his lady,” Y/n sped up, bouncing on Aemond’s cock quicker, the heat in her core building to a peak ready to snap at any moment. Y/n reached for Aemond’s hands. She pressed his left hand against her pearl and held onto his right one. Aemond rolled small circles on Y/n’s pearl already covered in her slick and tangled his fingers with hers. Adding pressure to the sensitive bud when their hips met each other.

“I’m going to cum. Are you ready, Aemond?” she said leaning down, losing herself in his violet eye.

“Yes please, I need to feel you cum around me my lady!” she couldn’t hold on any longer. Squeezing Aemonds hand Y/n fell apart as her orgasm flooded across her body, causing her legs to shake and her body to fall limp against Aemond. The pleasure of taking Aemond as she pleased pushed Y/n’s high to another plane of existence. One where she was everything and nothing all at once. Unburdened. Unshackled. Untouched. Aemond felt himself burst inside of Y/n his back arching. He had never reached a peak like this before. He could feel tingling all throughout his body that turned into blissful burning reaching to the tips of his toes. They laid together for a moment, their heavy breathing filling the heady air. Y/n sat up a bit and placed a gentle kiss on Aemond’s temple still damp from the excitement.

“Did I do well for you, my lady?”

“You were the perfect gentleman.”

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