#Lovely Princess Lavender Witch

[sylver-drawer]

“Jealousy at the Tea Party” Part One 👀

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Fairytale Series:

Rapunzel

Part 1 Part 2

Yandere Witch x Rapunzel Reader x Yandere Prince

Vinicio had finally discovered his princess! He was so thrilled to live out his biggest fantasy of saving a damsel in distress! He’d make sure to pamper you for life once he was able to save you from this tower! But first he had to gain your trust… so he’d be an open book.

Vinicio had kept his promise to you. The lavender haired man smiled below your tower while he’d shout at you so you could hear him.

You genuinely enjoyed his company as he’d share stories with you of his kingdom and about the outside world. Vinicio made you curious of what lies beyond your tower in merely a day.

Vinicio began to visit you for the next two days before he told you he had to return to his kingdom. His company was refreshing and comforting since Hilda had been gone for so many days…

It was the weekend when Hilda returned to you. The young woman shouted for you to let down your hair so she could climb up

Hilda’s arms engulfed your form as she eagerly inhaled your scent. A big smile on her pretty face when she finally pulled away.

“I’m so sorry I took so long. I went a bit further than normal and I brought you a gift.” Hilda reached into her satchel and pulled out a small box wrapped in parchment paper. “It was a little expensive, but I wanted to make it up to you.”

You opened the gift and were in awe of the seashell comb inside the box. The little white comb was covered in seashells and pearls… “It’s beautiful, Hildy.”

Hilda blushed at the nickname before she shyly glanced to the floor. Her green eyes peaked up at your smile while her heart fluttered.

“It’s not as beautiful as you.” The two of you shared smiles before Hilda began to get around to cook with you.

To Hilda, this was the ideal life. To cook and cuddle with the woman she loved as the two of them were far away from civilization. Her mother, Agnes, had handpicked (your name) just for her! You were Hilda’s bride and she’d never let anyone steal you away! Not like your mother was taken from Agnes! No! Hilda wouldn’t let any man in your vicinity! She didn’t want to lose you to childbirth like Agnes lost your mother!!

Agnes had told Hilda of how your mother was her lover before your mother was swept away by a handsome noble who spotted her in the village. Of how that man’s friend sullied Agnes and created Hilda (a fact that didn’t stop Agnes from loving Hilda). Of how Agnes had tirelessly searched for your mother only to be too late… Agnes simply couldn’t bear to leave you in the care of the man who had ripped her lover from her.

Agnes didn’t want Hilda to go through the same pain she did so she used her magic to build this tower. A spell that aged her significantly, but it was worth it so Hilda could be happy. Hilda was so blessed to have Agnes as her mother and you as her lover (a fact you were unaware of). And now Hilda had to magic to protect you! The two of you will never starve or lose one another! Hilda had the abilities to give you a good life.

Yet you didn’t weep like you normally did when she returned from her trips… Hilda observed your chipper form in suspicion. Had you been in contact with anyone else- no. That wasn’t possible. No one has discovered this tower in over twenty years and Hilda would prefer to keep it that way.

It was another month before you saw Vinicio again (luckily when Hilda was gone again). This time the prince brought you a large bouquet of flowers. You believed they were called roses! Except Vinicio had kindly removed each thorn.

Vinicio excitedly chattered away with you as he shared that he was camping nearby in the forest. The prince shared his woes with you. Vinicio had been hounded by his parents to get married since he was the only heir to the throne, but he was insistent to find his own wife. “I want to marry for love, despite that being corny.”

Despite how the warning in men was instilled in you, you didn’t feel like Vinicio was evil. He was rather charming actually and he had such a trust worthy aura. You enjoyed his friendship… yet you were unaware that Vinicio was actively courting you.

It took four more months of Vinicio’s visits for you to lower your hair and let him into the tower to talk. Vinicio always kept a polite distance even as the two of you shared tea. You were so happy to hear about the outside world and be shown the wonderful world of books.

You had to hide your books under your mattress from Hilda (an action you felt guilty to do) but you adored the stories from the words. Why did Hilda keep you away from civilization? It seemed wonderful to be out in the world!

You shared your desire to see the world with Vinicio’s whose eyes went dark as he smiled at you. “If you want to see the world, I can take you. We can see it together.” And you made the mistake of accepting his offer.

Hilda, on the other hand, felt as if she was going insane… at least until she discovered a romance novel under your mattress when she changed your bed sheets. Hilda nearly went ballistic at the novel that detailed the make believe love between a man and a woman. Yet she refrained from acting out on her feelings of betrayal. No… she’d have to punish you.

Hilda wrapped her arms around you as you at the meal the two of you made together. A few tears fell down her face which made you do a double take. Yet you couldn’t even ask her what was wrong before she grabbed the shears off the table.

“I’m so sorry… but you can’t leave.” Hilda began to sob. “Whoever that man is, he is going to ask to marry him and he will take you far away… you will be locked up somewhere else. This is all for your own good.”

Your screams echoed throughout the forest as Hilda chopped off your long locks. The young woman sobbed the entire time as she cut each chunk to a shorter length. You had to learn that you couldn’t leave her. Hilda didn’t want you to suffer the same fate your mother did. This was all for your own good.

When Vinicio came by after a week, he was shocked to not see you greet him right away. “(Your name)? Can you let down your hair?”

He had no suspicions when your long locks were tossed out the window for him to grab. The prince quickly scaled up the tower with a big smile on his face. Today was the day he’d ask you to be his wife… his forever princess.

“(Your name), I was thinking all week about this but I think I’d like to marry you.” Vinicio shouted as he inched closer and closer to the balcony. “I’ll take you far from this tower and we can see the world together. You can have as many dresses as you want and we can eat all kinds of good food! Would you like that?”

Vinicio couldn’t help the dread that began to pool in his stomach when you didn’t respond. Why haven’t you responded? Were you okay?

Yet he was shocked when he came face to face with the wicked grin of Hilda once he reached the balcony. You loudly sobbed as you sat tied up in a chair with your own hair. Your poor hair in a messy, (hair length) style. Was this the witch who kept you locked up? Did she hurt you?

The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Hilda sprang into action.

Hilda’s Ending:

“I won’t let you take her!” The black haired woman threw herself forward and shoved Vicinio off the balcony. The man couldn’t even scream before he fell down the tower in shock.

You began to sob when you heard a loud, wet thud. There was no doubt in your mind that Vicinio had splattered all over the bottom of the tower… a sight you didn’t want to see of your poor friend.

Hilda turned to you with a thrilled look on her face. “He’s gone… we’re safe now. We can be together just like we’ve always been.”

The black haired woman knelt down beside you as she knelt down to cup your tear stricken face in your hand.

“Shhh. Don’t cry. I’ll explain everything, okay?” Hilda pressed her lips against yours in a tender kiss. “It’s better this way.”

Vicinio’s Ending:

Vicinio side stepped Hilda, which caused the young woman to nearly tumble off the ledge. Yet Vicinio had caught her and slammed her head into the balcony, knocking the witch unconscious.

Vicinio quickly ran over to you as he began to untie your binds made from your own hair. Vicinio pulled you into a tight hug as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay… I’m here now.” Vicinio pressed a kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll make sure that witch is punished for her crimes.”

You froze when he said that. Witch? Hilda wasn’t a witch…

You gasped when Vicinio gave you a smile, yet the look in his eyes made your blood run cold.

“I’ll have her burned at the stake for hurting my precious princess.” Vicinio took your hands in his before he pressed tender kisses to each of your knuckles. “We can ride my horse back to my kingdom! I have a small group of my men down below to bring any of your belongings too. I can’t wait to be married!”

You trembled as Vivinio continued to babble on and on about your future marriage. Perhaps Agnes and Hilda had told some truth about men…

[borathae]

“They’ve seen the centuries come and go, watched empires rise and fall and witnessed the creation of society as it is today. And now you have fallen into their arms, showing them once again that change never stops.”

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Hurt and Comfort, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU

“You change universities after moving towns. Your new university is an old, ancient building with secret tunnels and whispered ghost stories. There are two fraternities, which for some reason always seem to be in a quarrel. Alpha consisting of Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin and Min Yoongi. Handsome, porcelain skinned men, who act as if they are out of another century and for some reason everyone on campus seems to be scared of. And Sanguis consisting of Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok. Men with skin just as pale and their faces just as beautiful, who always wear sunglasses when it is light outside and who never seem to open their curtains. And for some peculiar reason you always find yourself in the middle of them….”

Pairing: OT7 x f.Reader with main Taehyung x f.Reader & Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Mystery, Fantasy, Romance, Smut, University!AU, Vampire!AU

《 To Book One 》

“When your endless game of hide and seek with Namjoon sends your little group all over Europe, you have to fight more than just vengeful witches and bloodthirsty demons. Different morals, beliefs and mindsets bring just as much struggle to your bond as your enemies. And soon you have to accept that the world you decided to live in is darker than you initially prepared for.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader & Jungkook x f.Reader + more as the story progresses

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU

《 To Book Two 》

“You and your lovers visit The Plains, a magical realm created for the souls of witches and warlocks and home of your dear grandmother. She welcomes you with raspberry pie and tea. You come with many stories to tell and eager hands to help on her cottage. Golden sunlight, blue moonshine and green forests await you alongside early morning snuggles and late night kisses with your lovers.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Jungkook x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook, Taehyung x Jungkook, platonic Yoongi x Taehyung

Genre: Magic!AU, Vampire!AU, Polyamory!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance, Smut, this is a spin-off meant to be read after the Duology

《 To the Spin-Off 》

#01 - What You Deserve [YG x JK]

#02 - The Piano Teacher [YG x OC]

#03 - Only For You ([YG x OC]

#04 - Mellifluous [TH x OC]

#05 - Safe Hands [YG x OC]

#06 - Rache [TH x JK]

#07 - Captured [YG x OC]

#08 - Illecebra [TH x OC] ​

#09 - How I Love You [YG x OC]

#10 - Stormy Nights [YG x OC]

#11 - Of Simpler Times [TH x JM]

#12 - Best Seat [YG x OC]

#13 - Deep [JK]

#14 - Painted Blue [TH x OC]

#15 - Drunk on You [YG x OC]

#16 - I Want Your Love Forever [YG x OC]

#17 - Between Friends [YG x HS]

#18 - Bed Head [JK x OC]

#19 - Don’t Tease Please [JK x OC]

#20 - Fade into You [YG x OC]

#21 - Rope Bunny [YG x OC]

#22 - Lavender Warmth [YG x OC]

#23 - The Scholar, The Princess and the Master [YG x OC x JK]

#24 - Picnics [YG x OC x JK]

#25 - Where Love Is [YG x OC]

#26 - Wake Up Call [YG x OC]

#27 - Devotion [TH x OC]

#28 - Bewitched [YG x OC]

#29 - wanna see myself inside you [JK x OC]

#30 - Princess Treatment [YG x OC]

#31 - Guilty Tears [TH x OC]

#32 - Moonlight & Campsites [YG x OC]

#33 - ILY [YG x OC]

#34 - Morning Hours [JK x OC]

#35 - Silly Fights [YG x OC]

#36 - Carefree [YG & TH]

#37 - Cozy Times [YG x OC]

#38 - Drive You Fucking Crazy [TH x OC]

#39 - FWB [HS x OC]

#40 - A Good Life [YG x OC]

#41 - Impatient [JK x TH]

#42 - Love Wins All [TH x OC]

#43 - Cozy [YG x OC]

#44 - Listen In [HS x JK x TH]

#45 - moonlight [TH x OC]

#46 - Stardust [ TH x JK]

#47 - Protective [TH x JK]

#48 - Babybun [YG x OC x JK]

#49 - Just Relax [YG x HS]

#50 - Tenderness [JM & OC]

#51 - Creamer [YG x TH]

#52 - Shut You Up [JK x OC]

#53 - Double is Best [YG x OC x HS]

#54 - Fuck Yourself [JK x OC] 

#55 - Used [TH x OC]

#56 - Grateful [YG x OC x JK]

#57 - Good Doll [TH x JK]

#58 - Prove It [YG x OC]

[mao-likes-2-draw]

ace attorney into the woods au…….save me…….

character choices explained under cut !!!

baker and baker’s wife - diego and mia : okay so. love cut off very tragically. and for lanamia purposes because lana is cinderella’s (miles’) prince. mia is very determined and she dies in the process of reaching the goal because she became distracted, like the baker’s wife.

jack - phoenix : jack is very attached to things, and so is phoenix. he would be trying to get milky white back like his life depended on it. also made him jack so that diego could say “its because of you theres a giant in our midst and my wife is dead!” because he blamed phoenix for mia’s death 🙏🙏 i <3 angst. oh and also he can be friends with red :)

just…dont ask me who his mother is. i dont know.

little red - maya : shes young and just like little red, is kind of sheltered and has some terrible shit happen to her that leads to a revelation about the real world. shes on a search for her mother, or in this case, granny. i know it makes more since for red to be mia as she was looking for misty and the truth and died along the way, but shes already the bakers wife and it can apply somewhat to maya as well.

cinderella - edgeworth : okay so this one is kind of silly. hes like the von karma black sheep and i think franziska being a stepsister is hilarious. i dont think they would have as bad of a relationship and cinderella and lucinda do in the actual show, but the rivalry is still there. he also is the type to run away from hard things because…we have JFA to thank for that.

also gregory can be the ghost

the witch - kristoph : he doesnt have any relation to mia or diego, but him and klavier work pretty well as the witch and rapunzel. i dont know why klavier is related to diego in this. lets just say kristoph did some weird ass wizarding shit that made himself and klavier look very similar. i dont know. the witch is a very complex character but i dont want kristoph to be as sympathetic as she was. he is very interesting but less “right” than the witch was. in her words, “i’m not bad, im not good, i’m just right!” kristoph…isnt really right.

he also loves petty revenge and would do the whole monologue.

princes - lana and ema : siblings, for one thing. lana and mia could have a moments in the woods type of thing going on. mia has a bisexual awakening. lana also works with edgeworth, but in this version i dont think shes very in love with him. its more about asserting her authority as royalty. edgeworth isnt in love either, just as cinderella is unsure of her decisions. ema is the same way. she cannot stand klavier.

the line in agony where rapunzel’s prince says, “you know nothing of madness till you're climbing her hair…all the while hearing her ‘aahhhh’” i feel like that could be recontextualized from “im madly in love” to “oh my goodness this bitch wont stop singing”. the princes, or princesses, are much more reluctant about their counterparts in this au.

lavender marriages. take what you will.

steward - angel starr : okay so the steward(ess) isnt an important character but . maybe idk (im insane) him and cinderella’s prince had some kind of relationship. i mean….he gets around. and lana does too—its insane.

and im pushing the starrskye agenda (cinderella’s prince x steward?? 🤨🤨)

rapunzel - klavier : rapunzel is reminiscent of 17-year old klavier. i feel as if that controlling relationship rapunzel and the witch has is almost like his and kristoph’s. kristoph is keeping klavier close to him because hes afraid if he sees the world he’ll know that what kristoph is doing isn’t right. kristoph is great, and he’ll always be nice, until klavier wants to leave. everything will be fine, as long as klavier depends on his for the rest of his life.

also they both have ridiculous names, and they both sing i guess??

lucinda and step-mother - franziska and manfred von karma : another thing i thought was funny. it just makes sense (somewhat) in the context of this au. its important to note theres only one stepsister now, and i know theres an older VK daughter but im too lazy to cook up a design.

mr. wolf - redd white of bluecorp : hes dangerous and lurking. he killed mia, sure, but he also framed maya and therefore put her in danger. hes definitely got that predator animal vibe to him, but hes also just as charismatic as the wolf. he also had a major hand in the disappearance of misty.

granny - misty fey : a victim of the wolf. a victim of redd white.

WHEW that was long. wow. okay so i hope this was good!! there is not an into the woods fandom and i will personally make that happen if i have to. great musical!!!

[sunnylands-world]

Hii this is my 3rd time requesting so no need to rush, but if you have time could you do a dad!draco fic? Also I hope you're doing well as always :) Thank you!

Little charm

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x daughter x female reader

Summary: after the war you and Draco bring some light back into your lives

Word count:458

Warning: mentions of dead parents, insecure reader, and of course pregnancy

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: sorry for the wait lovely anon. I'm doing good, thank you for asking and I hope your doing the same. Man I miss writing! it's like needing coffee ☕ but anywho here's that fluffy content, hopefully I'll have smutty thoughts soon. Hope you all like it leave kind thoughts in the comments, their appreciated.

All mistakes are mine

It was an accident really, you're graduation night, the last year of Hogwarts. Draco's father was taken to Azkaban. He and his mother were left with the mansion, him being next in line to take the wealth. Draco and Narcissa were not necessarily loved by other wizards after all they had done, but they were left in peace. You followed your boyfriend to the manor, moving in with him and his mom after your family died fighting in the war.

You were shattered, never fully recovering from seeing loved ones killed in front of you, but Draco held you close when you'd awake in a sweat with heavy breaths just like you did for him. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Draco had matured after everything but he and you hadn't been mature enough to use protection [not that you were against having kids] so you ended up getting pregnant with your daughter: Lavandula Narcissa Malfoy.

You named her Lavandula because you'd think of the field filled with the plant as something easy to rest in, pretty in smell, and calming. [And because lavender was taken by a witch that you didn't want your child in relation to.] Her middle name, after her grandmother because her love for the people she cared for always shined and you loved that about her. Your little girl was surprisingly what you both needed.

She brightened the place, gave it color and healed your broken heart after the loss. She was spoiled rotten by Draco, clearly a daddy's girl as she whined and cried for him. You were glad she got the comfort Draco gave you, protection and love. He'd wake quickly at night rocking her in his arms, Her head against his chest as her eyes fluttered back into her dreams. He'd kiss her and your forehead tucking you both in.

You'd always compliment him on how well he was as a dad since you knew that was something he strived to be and he never failed even as she grew older running through the house. He'd twirl her like a princess in a fairy tale, buy her things fit for a queen and read her to sleep till she'd sigh in peace. You almost cried watching your husband care for her.

He even made time to care for you the same, hovering over your shoulder in the mirror when you'd doubted yourself since you had new changes to your body after your daughter.

He'd smile gently, eyes sparkling like the day he saw you, kiss your neck, hands around your waist as he told you how beautiful you were. So all in all Draco Malfoy was an amazing father.

Draco lovers and requests

@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa, @lovelycassy

[haosweater]

the mage and the healer

content: apothecary owner! yeosang x mage! gn! reader, fluff, fantasy au. warnings: mild description of injuries. no use of y/n.

summary: yeosang rolled his eyes every time you came into his store battered, bruised, and bleeding. god forbid the healer find out you purposely got injured just to see him.

word count: 0.7k

note: random concept made into a fantasy troupe :> enjoy!

the chime of the bell caught yeosang’s attention, but the smell of blood made him sigh. his shawl rustled as he turned around, placing vials onto the wooden counter top gently.

golden rays seeped through his store front, the smell of lavender floating in the air as its candles flickered. the soft jazz music playing in the background calmed your soul as you trudged through the front door.

“back so soon, mage?” yeosang taunts, flicking his wrist as his giant book of spells slammed shut behind him.

you force a grin, wincing in pain. “for i missed you so, yeosang,” your staff clatters to the ground as you slump against the wall. “sorry.”

the dark haired mage sighs. “you’re always leaving trails of mud and blood in my shop,” he mumbles, conjuring a soft arm chair over for you. “how do you get yourself into such a mess so often?”

he doesn’t let you answer, pushing you down into the soft cushion. you look up at him in awe, taking in the delicate scent of honey and cinnamon that clung to his cloak. he smelt divine.

his shawl’s navy blue mesh material was littered with golden moons and stars. his lips were pressed into a thin line, cheeks slightly flushed as he chanted spells under his breath.

“what were you doing this time, hm?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “fighting off orcs at the border? settling a spat between the nymphs and pixies? crossed a nasty witch?”

you inhale a sharp breath, entranced by his beauty. gods, he looked absolutely ethereal in this light. you’re rendered speechless for a moment.

before you can answer, yeosang mutters a spell that has you winching. “fuck,” you hiss as he quickly whispers an apology. “sparring with the crown prince,” you groan, bicep tensing as he rubbed an ointment onto the wound.

“and you lost?”

it takes yeosang singular glance to know you won. the victorious grin on your face, the glint of cockiness in your eyes– he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“if you think i look bad,” you hum, looking towards his myriad of books. “you should’ve seen the prince. the royal mage was shooting daggers at me,” you giggle as yeosang rolls his eyes with a smile.

“yes, yes. hongjoong always having to take care of mingi. no surprise there,” yeosang remarks as you click your tongue, wagging a finger in his face. he shoots you a confused look as you clear your throat, sitting up straight.

“put some respect on princess mingi’s name,” you say firmly. he lets out a snort that has you laughing again. “what on earth was that, yeosang?”

his cheeks flush red. “absolutely nothing,” he grunts, wrapping your bandages quickly.

you continue to laugh, poking fun at the mage who grew increasingly embarrassed. “weren’t you in excruciating pain earlier?”

you grin. “what if i told you that the only reason i keep getting hurt is so that i’d have a reason to come see you?”

the mage blinks comically, staring into your eyes in disbelief. he is speechless, unsure of what to think of what you said.

he scoffs, turning his back to you. “only a fool would believe that.”

you’re undeterred, leaning against the arm of the chair, swinging your legs over the other arm. humming a tune, you grin at the mage. “take it as you will, healer.”

“stop getting hurt so often and take better care of yourself,” he says, still not looking at you.

you feign a pout. “but then i won’t have a reason to keep coming to see you.”

he rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist to dismiss you. “just listen to my advice, mage.”

you chuckle softly, sinking into the velvet cushion. “whatever you say, my love.”

he ignores you, flipping through a spell book. you close your eyes, allowing yourself the drift off to sleep.

even in your dreams, you could hear the soft chime of his shells clinking against each other, music drifting through the air gently. the sweet scent of nectar and dew filled the air as his cauldron bubbled, accompanied by the unintelligible whispers of a mage at work.

as the sun set for the day, yeosang’s heart continued to ponder your words, and your heart remained in the palm of his hands.

[insomniac-arrest]

PRIDE SALE

Hello loves and happy Pride!! In celebration of all things gay, I'm putting my Sapphic short story collections and brand new novella up for sale. Werewolves, mermaids, and deep dark woods--what better topics for love? Check out the stories below! Everything will be priced at $3.99 or lower until the end of June. ❤️🏳️‍🌈

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Wolves of the bone cities are not meant to hunt their northern neighbors. Yet, the Hinterlands are wild places where rules bend and magic eats. Wolves may howl there and prove their worth. Despite her companions warnings, Shier the wolf begins to stalk a tricky doe. And MaryAnne may have tricks yet. Traveling from one villager to the next, she attempts to find secrets not meant for prey: What do wolves fear?

A classic tale of the hunt, a forest and the untamed places of the world, and a romance masked in teeth.

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Mermaids trapped in zoos, floating continents that block out the sun, curses that sprout flowers from your skin, astronauts on dying spaceships, and princesses bothering hungry bog witches. Five short stories that revolve around the love between women and the fantastical worlds they inhabit.

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Werewolves sharing early morning conversations with waitresses. Phantoms reappearing and disappearing in wild lavender fields. A coming-of-age story of a paper delivery girl as she uncovers the mystery surrounding a strange house and the girl inside who never seems to leave. Love stories of the odd, strange, and utterly lovely.

[whinlatter]

I need to know how you think Ginny or Hp characters in general reacted to the death of Princess Diana. She died right before Ginny left for Hogwarts her 6th year. I know wizards aren’t into muggle culture but Lady Di transcends cultural barriers. Plus that trio looking for the queens purse advert is definitely canon.

i did not expect this ask, and i regret to inform you my response to it was to write the following incredibly stupid ficlet about ginny and the death of princess diana. don't ask me why i did this because i don't know!

The last day of August 1997, she comes downstairs in her dressing gown and finds Kingsley in the kitchen with a Muggle newspaper that says that Princess Diana is dead. ‘Car crash,’ he says, pushes the paper across the table. No-one’s shared news of any sort with her in weeks - the only child and non-Order member of the house, at best an irrelevance and at worse a nuisance for the crumbling wartime resistance - so she forgets about the kettle she's just boiled and sits down, snatches up the paper, reads hungrily. High speed car chase, it says, Diana and her boyfriend, in a tunnel in Paris, being chased down by paparazzi. ‘I met her once,’ says Kingsley, musingly, sipping his tea.

She looks up. ‘Really?’

‘Mmm. With the Muggle PM.’

‘What was she like?’

Kingsley thinks about it. ‘Funny,’ he says. ‘But sad.’ 

She hangs on to the paper. When she’s inevitably ousted from the kitchen by the arrival of yet more Order folk with important business and no trace of interest in her, she takes it up to her room, clears a space on the floor between the maps of the castle she's been memorising and her now dog-eared copy of The Dark Arts Outsmarted and flattens it out on the floor. The Muggle pictures of the princess, of course, don’t move. Yet Diana manages to always be in motion in the photographs, full of life, running and dancing and gallivanting, long legs stretching across roads or dangling off the end of great boats, her speeding across ocean waves on what looks like a water motorbike or down steep snowy slopes on bits of wood with poles in her hands. She's forced to hoist Crookshanks up and out of the way when he tries to paw his way across the pull-out spread of Diana in her wedding dress. 'You used to live with Muggles sometimes, didn't you?’ she demands of a squirming Crookshanks. ‘Show a bit of respect.'

She’d known about the princess before, of course. Hard to avoid her, even among wizards. The Muggleborn girls had started it, tacking up endless pictures of her many outfits on their walls. Their better-blooded peers had followed, and she’d thought even the Slytherins would be unable to deny there was a magic, a magnetism, to Diana, in  fabulous dresses one day and the coolest of boyish suits the next, all draped off of her long, lean frame with an effortless elegance that most of the awkward adolescent girls of the castle could only dream of. There was a time, in the run-up to the Yule Ball, when you couldn’t move for pictures of that dress. ‘It’s her revenge dress,’ Lavender had informed her matter-of-factly at dinner, ‘because her husband cheated on her with a married woman he’d been in love with years before.’ An off-the-shoulder slinky black number with the chunky pearl necklace, the dress had been the envy of every witch in the castle. ‘I’d definitely pull Diggory if I had that dress,’ a sixth-year girl had  lamented to her mates over the sinks in the fifth-floor girls’ bathroom the next day.

That evening, her own dress from her mother had arrived. She’d sent for it, when Neville had asked her to the ball, bestowing upon her the dubious honour of being the second most pitying girl in all of Gryffindor. It’s an old one of Molly’s from the sixties. She’d always admired it on her mum in old photographs taken before she was hers, worn on nights out and parties from a past life that her mother only hints at, with a twinkle in her eye and a firmly zipped lip. Now, though, the dress looked all wrong - too chaste, too floral, not an ounce of sex appeal about it, throughly unmemorable and unlikely to catch a single eye, fresh-pickled toad-green or otherwise.

(In her bunk that night, she'd lain awake and taunted herself with cruel, self-flagellating fantasy. Imagined striding past the Boy Who Lived wearing that dress, the revenge one, making him regret he’d ever asked Cho Chang to the ball, making him forget all about her shiny hair and her pretty smile and her cool friends and her easy grace, making him notice someone else instead - his best mate’s feral little sister who is funny, actually, just not when he’s around, and whom he last seemed to have thought about when he’d hauled her off her own deathbed, and never since.)

As adolescence wore on, though, she’d soured on Diana. Too chic to be likeable, rich girl with a life of frocks and endless frolicking, intolerably poised and swan-like. The sight of her glimpsed on Muggle newsstand in the village stirred up the same feelings of eye-roll envy as her sister-in-law, which always boded ill. Looking at her now, though, she wonders if there wasn’t something she’d missed, something else to her. Diana’s set jaw looks more guarded than she remembered. The wide eyes ringed by thick smudgy black she’d once thought coquettish now look lost, full of reproach.

Dean’s mum, she remembers now, had loved her. ‘She won’t hear a bad word about her,’ he’d said, rolling his eyes. ‘Says she was the best thing that ever happened to that family.’ Ever her father’s daughter, she’d pestered him with endless questions, like she did all things Muggle: about the divorce, about the royals and succession and the Muggle press and the high drama of it all, until he’d got bored and suggested they go find a broom cupboard, get down to more serious business. Wonders how Dean’s mum must be feeling today. But then she remembers her son is, for all intents and purposes, Muggleborn in a new regime that wants him dead, and suddenly feels slightly sick. She puts the paper away, then, and gets back on with packing up her war room for the morning’s train journey out to the front.

Diana’s sons, the paper said, survive her. They’re called William, and Harry. Good names, in her book. She can't help but think of them as she packs, the boys - children, who woke up one morning to find themselves motherless.

‘It’s mayhem in London,’ says her father, that night, over dinner. ‘There’s hundreds of people outside the palace, leaving flowers and things. I’ve never seen anything like it. There'll be a big public funeral - all the royal family will have to be there, including the boys. They'll have no choice. The Muggles are heartbroken. I dread to think what would happen if there was an attack during that - Kingsley, we ought to talk more about that, actually...'

'Those poor children,' her mother whispers, though that’s nothing new, these days — she whispers that every night.

'Are they still in London?' she asks her dad, quietly, over the washing up. 'At Grimmauld? Have you heard anything?'

'No news, dear. I'd tell you if I knew.'

Lying awake that night with her trunk packed, she wonders if this has all passed them by - her brother and almost-sister and the boy who lived she knows she’s supposed to forget. She imagines them sat the table in that grungy basement kitchen, newspaper spread in front of them. Perhaps they, too, have been poring over Diana's finest outfits, in memoriam. Probably not, though — not with a murder to plot, a Dark Lord to kill, a Tom to hunt. Three child soldiers with a war to win.

Still, the thoughts persist as she tries to fall asleep. Thinks about being hunted, boys without mothers, a city full of mourners. Muggles with their tears and their flowers and their prams at the palace gates. It’s like it's the end of something, something fun and frivolous, dress-up and glamour and girlhood. One day, you're thirteen and looking at princesses in party dresses in the newspaper — and the next, you're sixteen, and the newspapers tell you that the parties are over and the princesses are dead. Something about the tragedy of the thing. The pointlessness, the waste.

artwork: diana and her nymphs hunting by paul de vos (1636)

[saucy-mesothelioma]

I've been working on some Slay the Princess colored panels, and I wanted to share them. Obviously spoilers under the cut

First up is the Base Princess

I wanted her to give off "blank slate" as much as possible, so I tried to keep a lot of color out of her pallete. A lot of the other princess pallets have some elements of the Base Princess, but at varying levels.

Next is The Witch

Definitely gave her a lion vibe with the hair and tail colors, and I just really wanted to give her a lavender-tinted dress.

Next is The Damsel

God knows I had to make her as stereotypical as I possibly could: pink dress, lacy ruffles, the works. She's got them big blue autistic eyes and we love her for it.

Ran out of room, so I'll do some more in Part 2

[allamericansbitch]

Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (december 17 - december 24)!  I want to appreciate editors and their creations that i love from the past week. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts. Have a great week and a happy holiday to those who celebrate!

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: tigris gifset by @magnusedom

orville peck: 2023 performance wardrobe gifset by @madeline-kahn

taylor swift: the eras tour + details gifset by @lovestory

maisie peters: the good witch gifset by @antoniosvivaldi

brooklyn nine nine: raymond holt gifset by @muldery

narcos: javier pena gifset by @perotovar

home alone gifset by @percyjacksonss

taylor swift: marjorie gifset by @rogerhealey

maisie peters: guy on a horse graphic by @andtosaturn

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: book differences gifset by @saws2004

olivia rodrigo: get him back gifset by @usercindylou

taylor swift: the eras tour gifset by @h-f-k

the muppet christmas carol gifset by @cindylouwho

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: lucy gray baird gifset by @rachelsennot

yellowjackets: 1.01 x 1.03 gifset by @taiturner

the bear: syndey adamu in 2x03 gifset by @demarcoes

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: coriolanus snow gifset by @feodor-dostoevsky

brookyn nine nine: jake peralta gifset by @jakeyp

taylor swift: lavender haze gifset by @treacherous

the princess diaries: mia thermopolis gifset by @phoebesbridgers

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: lucy gray baird gifset by @maliagf

samia: triptych gifset by @sofiarostova

yellowjackets: shauna gifset by @girlbutcherwife

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: lucy gray baird gifset by @nowadayz

abbott elementary: holiday gifset by @goabbott

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: lucy gray baird gifset by @tomblythsgf

friends: holiday gifset by @birthdaysentiment

the hunger games gifset by @sharpesjoy

stranger things: nancy wheeler gifset by @eightynines

taylor swift: the story of us graphic by @taylrswift

the ballad of songbirds and snakes gifset by @kvtnisseverdeen

a charlie brown christmas gifset by @sheryl-lee

yellowjackets gifset by @natscatorrcio

the ballad of songbirds and snakes gifset by @richardgrimes

barbie 2023 gifset by @fawad-khan

the ballad of songbirds and snakes gifset by @clarisselareu

pride & prejudice: darcy gifset by @prideandprejudice

the ballad of songbirds and snakes gifset by @jakeperalta

the ballad of songbirds and snakes gifset by @kendalroys

olivia rodrigo: the grudge graphic by @georgesezra

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: tigris gifset by @padme-amidala

the ballad of songbirds and snakes: lucy gray baird soundtrack gifset by @crowley-anthony

[anxiety-lemsbian]

‧͙⁺˚･˖ ࣪��☾[ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀʙʙɪᴛꜱ ɢʟᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴀᴅ? ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴏʀ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀᴏᴘ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴛɪɴ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏx ɪꜱ ᴠᴜʟᴘᴇꜱ ᴠᴜʟᴘᴇꜱ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ɴɪᴄᴇ.]☽˖ ࣪⭑･˚⁺‧͙

hi! i'm aster.

she/they, minor, ENG + some ESP and Auslan, poet, audhd, sapphic ace, careless man’s careful daughter, infj, shark lover, lucy dacus listener, aries sun, gemini moon, pisces rising, #1 boygenius (+ solo careers) obsessor, ravenclaw but FUCK JKR, pinterest princess (androgynous), aspiring forest witch, chronic fatigue + generalized anxiety disorder + depression sufferer, greek salad lover

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

current hyperfixation/talk to me about:

the ark x boygenius parallels

special interests:

sylvia plath, boygenius, bluey, sharks

fandoms:

everything sucks, boygenius (+solo careers), jucy, gilmore girls, brooklyn 99, heartbreak high, bluey, bridgerton, osemanverse, sunflowers and lavender, kiki’s delivery service, hamilton, matilda the musical, ruby redfort, aurora cycle (zila's my GIRL), nevermoor, stargirl, agggtm, biac, wednesday, lady bird, the owl house

books:

the anthropocene reviewed, the bell jar, stargirl, loveless, radio silence, death sets sail, goddess girls series, dear poppy, aurora cycle, anne of green gables series, sick bay, henry hamlet’s heart, hani and ishu’s guide to fake dating, nevermoor, iwbft, heartstopper, solitare

ships:

wenclair, lumity, cazzie, emisue,

artists:

lucy dacus, chappell roan, hozier, florence and the machine, radiohead, phoebe bridgers, julien baker, gracie abrams, noah kahan, boygenius, taylor swift? (melbourne n3), lorde, cavetown, mitski, eliza and the delusionals, boyish, beabadoobee

songs:

claw machine, nuvole bianche, leonard cohen, garden song, there it goes, triple dog dare, home by now, no surprises, cartwheel, me and my dog, american teenager, good news, scorpio rising, townie, last words of a shooting star, strawberry blond, we’re in love

playlist:

psa: when i use 'girl' in relation to me (crafty girl summer, etc.) i mean it androdgynously :))

my sideblogs are:

@leftfromrightfromwrong : boygenius and sometimes art

@listen2yourownvoice : radio silence+ a bit of general osemanverse

tags: # aster writes- poetry. #aster writes i guess- more poetry. #asters saved posts- saved posts. #aster loves boygenius- me loving boygenius. #aster's lyric rambles- when i just post a bunch of song lyrics in a format. #aster bawls on the floor- due to sadness, cringiness or laughter, i am on the floor and out for the count. # aster thinks (not really) - what it sounds like pretty much # it’s me i’m the girlfriend - can’t even explain this one actually #percy <3- literally just @trashmeowcan #ari 🌻 - @waitingforthesunrise

@asterisalemsbian • Pronouns.page

link to my old intro post:

[sylver-drawer]

It’s that time of year again, so I this (birthday) art prepared for my baby Jennnnnnnnn 💕💕💕💕

Arabella is from a small au of mine where Jen has an childhood ‘imaginary friend’ who was actually a young witch. I mean, if Athy has a millennial aged wizard, it’s only right for the lovely princess to have a witch ;)

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Daenera Velaryon returns to King’s Landing with the intention of bolstering her mother’s position and reminding both the Greens and nobility that Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the throne. She has a specific goal in mind: to be a constant source of annoyance to the Greens and is willing to play the political game without hesitation.

However, what catches her off guard is the way Aemond gazes at her and seems to relish in her suffering. He openly expresses his desire to bring about her downfall, her ruination.

This situation leads to a tense game of cat and mouse, with each move escalating the already high stakes. Will their precarious situation crumble as the dragons soar above, or will fate intervene?

After all, love often demands the sacrifice of duty, just as duty can sometimes lead to the demise of love. Characters: Aemond Targaryen X OC, HOTD characters.

Chapter 9: The Feast

AO3 - Masterlist

In anticipation of the evening’s grand feast, Daenera underwent a meticulous bathing ritual, immersing herself in fragrant lavender water and indulging in a thorough cleansing of her entire body. Throughout the day, Joyce and Jelissa tirelessly attended to her by delicately brushing her hair. They would have skillfully arranged it in an exquisite fashion, ensuring its flawless presentation had it not been for Daenera’s unwavering desire to let her tresses cascade down her back. 

Instead, they settled on crafting intricate braids that gracefully allowed the dark curls to cascade over her shoulders.

A dress of blood red fabric had been chosen, the neckline revealing her bosom with each breath she took, gold embroidered flowers blooming along the edge with pearls at their center. It was quite the extravagant dress, meant to draw the eye, and perhaps take away from the simple beauty that was her face. 

Joyce tightened the bodice of the dress a bit more and Daenera gasped for breath. “Would you have me pass out during the feast?”

“It will loosen with movement,” Joyce promised, tying the final knots on the dress.

Daenera tried to breathe easy against the restraint, a hand on her stomach, each breath squeezed and only serving to reveal her ample breasts. Perhaps this dress was too on the nose… 

With a chest filled with jewels in hand, Jelissa approached the princess, opening it up for her to look through. It was the simple necklace of pearls that caught her eye, a string of them with a small ruby in the middle. It wrapped around her neck and rested perfectly on her breastbone. Jelissa closed the chest of treasures and hastily walked away. 

“You look beautiful, my Lady,” Joyce complimented, fingers tucking the bodice to just the right place. Daenera’s whole body jerked and she almost tumbled over. The bodice was painted on her and it would undoubtedly leave it’s marks. 

“I look expensive, no one will ever call me beautiful.”

“Oh please, I’ve seen more plain looking girls than you,” Joyce chided, lightly slapping Daenera’s shoulder for emphasis. “Stop being self deprecating, it doesn’t suit you.”

Daenera rolled her eyes at her maids chastisement. In truth, she was rather comely. But she wasn’t the usual Targaryen beauty. She wasn’t blessed with a long and slender body, nor the greatly coveted silver hair. No, the blessing had surpassed her and given itself to Baela and Rhaena. For a time she had envied them. And, perhaps, still deep within her worst parts, she still envied them. 

But as she had come to accept that she would be the Targaryen and Velaryon without a dragon, she too would be without the traditional Valyrian features. 

“The King honors you with this feast,” Jelissa said excitedly, “The queen too.”

“I fear that it is more out of the kindness of the Kings good heart, than that of the queens. If it stood to her, she wouldn’t have held anything at all.” Joyce shook her head. 

“I’ll have to thank the queen regardless,” Daenera voiced, stepping down from the little dias in front of the mirror to get a proper look at herself. She may not look Targaryen or be a true beauty, but at times, she thought, she could be pretty. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to catch some young lordlings eye,” Jelissa dreamed on, feigning a swoon as she fell onto the pillowed settee, her light brown hair in a tussle. 

Youth clung to the maid and she remained caught in the childish notions of knights and lords and true love. Daenera had once been the same. A starry eyed girl who dreamed of a great love, of a knight or a prince to whisk her away to her happily ever after. 

But then she visited the witch. 

Your first marriage shall be loveless and your second cloaked in betrayal.

And she would find herself wishing she had cut out her heart to begin with.

All she could ever hope for was a marriage as amiable as her mothers first marriage had been. Partners, but not lovers. Free to do one's own choosing… 

But it would still be a prison nonetheless. Widowhood would suit her the most.

Daenera shook her head and deemed herself ready. 

“Or mayhaps I will catch some old lord's eye, who would sooner die and leave me a widow.”

“You know, for a princess, you’re not very dreamy,” Jelissa grumbled like a sour child that had just gotten their cake snatched away from them. 

“I will not have you talking of widowhood at your young age, princess,” Joyce scolded, looking every inch the exasperated grandmother. “You are far too young for that.”

“You’re never too young to be a widow, Joyce. Widowhood is the best a girl can get. Freedom from her husband and freedom from expectations.”

“You’ll find a girl like you would be married off a second time, or thrice if it came to it, so choose carefully who you’ll marry, the others might be worse.”

“That is why I study plants,” Daenera grinned at the old maid, who looked at the young princess in dismay. In spite of this, she knew that she was only joking. 

“You shouldn’t joke about such things, princess, least of all here.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Daenera relented, cupping the maids face in her hand, brushing her thumbs over the freckled cheeks. Age had been creeping into her face for some time, deepening the lines and sagging the skin. Still, she was an attractive woman, with sharp cheekbones and an always coy smile on her lips. Daenera liked her the best when she was teasing Ser Fenrick relentlessly. Joyce had been with Daenera since she could remember. 

“Say that again,” Joyce teased, eyes narrowed in amusement. 

Daenera rolled her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry… All I’m saying is that I don’t expect to find any suitors tonight.”

“Tonight is the perfect night to find a man,” Jelissa argued. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”

Daenera and Joyce gave each other a look. 

Fenrick knocked on the door, entering when Joyce called out. The sworn sword entered Daenera’s quarters wearing his finest leathers for the evening's occasion. Joyce sauntered over to him and tapped a finger on his chin, a sly smile on her face. “My, my, Ser Fenrick, you do clean up nice.”

As always Fenrick tried to remain cold and stoic, but the crows feet at the corner of his eyes deepened. Joyce left him flustered, walking over to join Jelissa on the settee. 

“They’re ready,” Fenrick announced, shaking Joyce’s touch off of him by shifting his feet. He surveyed the princess from top to toe, a warm but fatherly glint in his eye. “You look-,”

“Beautiful?” Joyce suggested.

“Expensive,” Daenera proposed, tilting her head. 

“Like a princess finding a husband,” Jelissa added lastly, a big grin on her face.

Fenrick blinked, befuddled. “The first two, the last one I’m not too sure about.”

“Isn’t that the point of her being here?” Jelissa asked and the answer she got was a pillow to the face by Joyce. 

Fenrick held out his arm for her to take. 

“Princess Daenera of House Velaryon,” the court announcer bellowed out as Daenera entered the great hall. As all gazes fixated on her, Daenera braced herself for their scrutiny. With unwavering determination, she maintained her composure, holding her head high and walked confidently down the steps, making her way towards the King.

In the grandeur of the throne room, lengthy tables had been meticulously arranged, stretching along the length of the room, set up between the massive columns where the former kings had been carved into stone, forever made to look down upon their subjects. At least the Hightowers had not desiccated them, Daenera thought. 

The King’s table had been elevated on a magnificent dias in front of the throne. It provided the royals with an unobstructed view of their subjects, as they feasted and danced. 

All the tables were laden with an abundance of delectable dishes, the food towering on silver plates, freshly cooked and permeating the air with their mouth watering scent. There was barbecued duck with palm nuts and huckleberries. Served with brocciu and river almond pie. Spit-roasted goose with chervil and blackberries on a bed of sauteed courgette flowers, celery and limes. Served with sorrel soup, aged goat cheese, bread with butter, amber ale and boiled eggs. Stewed dire boar with jack nuts and tarragon with a salad of steamed fat hen, diced parsnip and gooseberries. Served with poached eggs, cheese, brown bread with jam and kombu pie.  

Positioned alongside the bustling dance floor, a group of musicians took their place, their presence immediately recognizable to Daenera. It was one of the troops that had attended her audition, playing a merry melody. 

With measured steps, Daenera made her way towards the royal table. Positioned at the center, King Viserys occupied the distinguished seat carved of heavy oak, with a tall back. On his head he wore his crown. To his right sat Queen Alicent, a formidable figure exuding pious gace, while to his left was the esteemed Hand, Otto Hightower.

As Daenera’s gaze shifted from Alicent, her eyes traversed down the line. Beside the Queen sat her firstborn, Prince Aegon, slumped in his seat and nursing his cup of wine, while his sister-wife sat at his side, eyes downcast and lost in a world of her own.

Lastly were Aemond, sitting in his chair with his back straight, a cold expression on his face, wholly unimpressed with the whole thing. 

She didn’t deign to look towards him, but she felt his gaze burn against her soul, more intense than every other eye upon her. It was mind-boggling how someone with only one eye could convey so much emotion behind every glance. 

“Princess Daenera, we are delighted by your presence,” Viserys greeted her, raising a cup in acknowledgement. The Queen offered a tight smile.

Nodding respectfully, Daenera bowed before them. “Indeed, your grace, I could not possibly refrain from attending, especially when it’s evident that the Queen has invested considerable effort into its preparation. It is a great honor to be here.”

“It serves as a token for your happy return to us, Princess Daenera,” Alicent said gracefully, though Daenera severely doubted the sincerity of her words. “It seems we are not the only ones who have put effort into this night. I must say, you exude beauty in its fullest form.”

Aegon snickered beside the Queen, spattering wine on his green doublet, staining it dark. He reached for the flagon and poured himself another cup. 

Helaena shifted uncomfortably and shifted to chat with Aemond, who listened carefully to his sister, though his eyes remained on Daenera, prickling against her skin. 

“Are you hoping to catch a lord's eye?”

Daenera turned her gaze back on the Queen. “I hope to spend the evening dancing.”

“With your charm, Princess Daenera, I have no doubt that there will be a multitude of dance partners eagerly vying for your attention,” Viserys remarked, his voice filled with unwavering confidence. 

“Please, Princess, do take a seat,” the Queen said, gesturing to the vacant seat next to Otto. Daenera picked up her skirts, the jewels and beads chiming as she moved, the heavy fabric. She stepped up on the dias and joined the royal family by the table. 

“Princess,” Otto Hightower greeted her with polite formality. 

“Lord Hand.”

The King extended great effort to rise from his seat, prompting the Queen to assist him by securing an arm around him, with Otto poised to intervene if necessary. However, the King waved them both off, determined to stand on his own, despite swaying unsteadily. He used every ounce of his energy to maintain his upright position, a display of his strength and resilience. His grip on the cup tightened as he spoke, promoting the room to go quiet.

“It is a rare occasion to receive a visit from my beloved grandchildren, and their presence brings me immeasurable joy,” the King expressed, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “Daenera, my dear, you are as beautiful as your mother.”

Daenera smiled in spite of Aegon choking on his wine, sputtering out like a drunken fool and beating against his chest to loosen the droplets that lingered in his windpipe. The Queen scolded him with a reproachful look. It was enough to make Aegon slide further down in his seat with a sour expression on his face. 

“You possess the same willful fire that courses through your mothers veins. I am immensely grateful for your return. To the princess!” The King raised his cup, and the other lords and ladies followed suit, their cheers resounding in celebration of her homecoming. 

Exhausted by the exertion of his speech, the King resumed his seat, his body slumping slightly. Like the buzz of a fly, Daenera overheard Alicent chastising the King for his exertions, her words laced with concern and indignation. 

“Have you enjoyed the time in the Keep so far?” Otto inquired out of politeness rather than genuine interest. 

“I have,” Daenera answered, eyes looking at the masses as they prepared the first dance, before flickering back to the Hand. Why did he always appear so congested? And his hair… always so brittle and thin, looking more like a birds nest than anything else. 

“I hear you’ve taken interest in the arts,” Otto continued. 

“I’ve always had a fondness for music and dancing, Lord Hand. How can I not support that which brings me such joy?” Daenera sipped the sweet wine and found it too sweet for her liking. 

At that moment a young lordling, Alan Beesbury, gathered enough courage to ask her for a dance. Bowing before her, he extended a hand. Daenera accepted the gesture, and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, happy to remove herself from the company of Otto Hightower. 

Aemond discreetly departed from the table, a cup of wine in his hand, melting into the shadows as he maneuvered through the crowd to lean against one of the stone columns, under the hooded figure of Maegor. His attention was fixed on the princess, his gaze drawn to her presence amidst the festivities. 

His mind wandered back to the very moment he had first laid eyes on her. The memory stirred within him, causing this scar to throb as if it were made anew, cut open by the memory of a honed blade. The injustice of that night tasted bitter in his mouth, and they ignited a righteous fire within his chest. 

The recollection had brought him back to his mothers quarters that day, where concern had been etched upon her face, aging her years before his eyes. With hands wringing nervously, she had revealed her thoughts. 

“The princess has returned to us, claiming it is for the sake of her studies, but I hold no trust in her words. She’s been sent here to spy on us.”

“What would you have me do, mother?” Aemond had asked, hating the sight of his mothers worry. 

Alicent had reached for his weathered and calloused hands, taking them in her own soft ones. Her voice wavered with apprehension. “Watch her.”

“I will,” Aemond promised, resolute in his determination.

“Be careful, though,” his mother warned, her voice laced with disdain and distrust. “She has spent years isolated on Dragonstone with Rhaenyra and Daemon. Who knows what she might be capable of. 

Bitterness and sorrow swirled in her story expression, and she had reached up to brush a thumb against the scar that dipped below his eye. Aemond despised when she looked at him like that, burdened with blame and shame, as if it was her fault.

“I fear what her presence might mean for us, what it might do. She will ask questions, I just know it. And she will try and undermine us.”

“I won’t allow that,” Aemond avowed. 

His mothers eyes softened. “You are the only one I can trust with this.”

And so, he had kept a vigilant eye on her, watching from the shadows.

He had surreptitiously trailed her to the sept, fully aware that his role was merely to keep an eye on her, and not shadow her like a spy. Larys had already seen to that, and the sept like the rest of the city teemed with spies, rendering Aemond’s own presence unnecessary. 

Yet, against his better judgment, she had ignited a morbid and persistent curiosity within him. 

He despised the sensation.

Approaching her had not been his intention. However, there she stood before the effigy of the Stranger, lighting candles in the memory of her dead. He wished there were more candles for her to light. It was the bitterness, the scorn, and the enduring resentment that had compelled him to reveal himself. She had appeared to have been taken aback. 

Her very existence was an affront to the Targaryen legacy. A bastard .

He wanted her gone, and restore the peace that was before her appearance. Where he wasn’t haunted by the reminder of that fateful night, and the anguish it had wrought. He yearned for her to suffer as she had made him suffer. 

It had been Lucerys who had seized the dagger. It had been Lucerys who had swung it. But it was Daenera who had pointed the finger at him. It was Daenera who had revealed what he had said. It was Daenera who had shielded her brother. 

Lucerys was not here to answer for his crimes, so Daenera would have to. 

That day in the sept he had inflicted upon her but a fraction of the pain he had endured. It hadn’t been enough. It had only put more kindling on the fire within him. 

At night he had been haunted by her big, blue eyes, and her spiteful lips dripping with poison. Her presence was a shadow that followed him around in all moments, waken or asleep. He wanted to free himself of it. 

The hatred burned with such intensity that it was almost blinding. He yearned to ruin her, to witness her consumed by the inferno that raged within him, reduced to ashes, utterly destroyed. 

But by the gods, old and new, she was undeniably intriguing. It only exacerbated the torment. He recognized the festering rot within her, the dutiful daughter, a bastard, with a penchant for chaos. 

Daenera twirled around, her gown shimmering like the stars against a bloodied sky. Her blue eyes clashed vividly with the crimson of her dress, drawing even more attention to their glint. And then, she bestowed a smile upon the lordling, causing the sickly sweet wine to turn sour in Aemond’s mouth. 

Who would want a bastard like her as a wife?

It was plain for all to see, and yet, no one dared confront her as he had once done. They might fear the same price he had paid. And the King, his great father, foolishly remained blind to it all. It only fueled his loathing for him further. 

“Brother, who has caught your fancy?” Aegon inquired, sliding up to Aemond, his wine cup halfway empty. 

Aemond remained impassive, hoping his lack of response would deter his brother. It did not. 

“Do not tell me it is the bastard.”

“Speak any louder and the whole Keep will hear you,” Aemond sneered, his concern less for the implications of Aegon’s words and more for the potential of eavesdroppers. Viserys did not take kindly to the truth, and even his own children would not be spared from his wrath should he hear of either of them calling her a bastard. It didn’t matter that it was the truth. It was one Viserys did not wish to hear.

“Are you truly concerned for the reputation of that girl?” Aegon pressed on. 

“I am concerned about the trouble your loose lips will inevitably bring,” Aemond retorted. 

“I am flattered, dear brother,” Aegon taunted, bracing a hand on his chest. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t trouble myself with your affairs. If you lose your tongue, you will cause far less trouble,” Aemond remarked coolly. 

“Mother would be terribly displeased. Can’t have a prince without a tongue and a prince with only one eye.”

“Your head then” Aemond continued. “And if that were to happen, I would be next in line for the throne.” 

“Only if our sweet sister were to meet an unfortunate end, taking all her bastards with her.”

“As tactful as ever, Aegon,” Aemond retorted dryly. 

Daenera erupted into laughter, playfully slapping the shoulder of a young lordling, her eyes brimming with sly intrigue. The lordling’s eyes were wide and besotted. A grave mistake, Aemond thought. Did he truly believe the princess to be a simple-minded girl? Did he comprehend her capacity for chaos and deceit? Or was he merely blinded by her smiles and the allure of her figure?

“I must admit, she has grown rather… appealing… Perhaps if you avert your gaze from her face and focus solely on her body,” Aegon mused in a lewd tone, raising his cup so that its base obscured Daenera’s face. “A cunt remains a cunt, and she certainly possesses a ravishing figure.”

Aemond rolled his eye in sheer disgust. 

“I’m certain some insignificant lordling from a minor house will be thrilled to take her as wife… Although, he will encounter great trouble if she takes after her mother,” Aegon remarked, underestimating the potential consequences of his words. It seemed he cared little to keep his tongue. 

“I highly doubt she will settle for a mere lordling,” Aemond responded, assuming that if Daemon had his way, Daenera would be wedded to one of the major houses to bolster Rhaenyra’s claim. And if that wasn’t the case, she would marry a lord with deep pockets and the ability to raise a formidable army. If she were to marry one of her brothers, he assumed she’d have done it already. 

“She’s not worth much more than that,” Aegon said, completely unaware of how mistaken he was. “She should count herself lucky to find a husband at all.” 

Aemond shook his head. His brother never cared for politics and it was evident. “She will be married, and it will complicate things for us.”

“Why would anyone wish to marry a bastard?”

“Do you even grasp the political implication of her presence, brother?”

Aegon grimaced, eyes on the few drops left in his cup. “I don’t particularly care. It’s not as though it matters anyway.” 

Once again, Aegon rolled his eye, frustrated by his brother’s lack of ambition and foresight. Was he even aware of the efforts of their mother to secure their position in this world? To keep all of them alive. Or did he simply not care what happened to his family? If that were the case, Alicent’s efforts were wasted on him. It only served to fuel Aemond’s bitterness. If only he had been born first. 

A servant girl scurried past them, only halting when Aegon lunged for the tray she carried, casting an indecent smile in her direction as he placed his empty cup on it and grabbed another. The girl averted her gaze, shoulders tensening under the attentions of a prince. 

“You should pay more attention to your lady wife than to the servant girls, brother,” Aemond remarked, every word dripping with disdain. 

Helaena sat alone, absentmindedly tying with her fingers, lost in a world of her own. She never really enjoyed things like these. Aemond wished that Aegon would treat her better, with the kindness she deserved. Instead, Aegon disregarded her and indulged himself in whores and wine. 

“I’d sooner bed a boot cleaner’s daughter than my own wife,” Aegon spat, his eyes following the timid servant girl. “If you’ll excuse me…”

Emptying his cup, Aegon carelessly placed it on the table beside Lord Rosby, who looked up in surprise. Then, Aegon vanished into the crowd, chasing after a quick fuck. 

Aemond’s eye returned to the princess, narrowed and ever watchful. 

“Sweet flower!” A familiar voice boomed. 

Cutting through the crowd of people was Darqarrow Ernaan, a knight that had once fought alongside both Daemon and Laenor in the war of the Stepstones, battling against the Triarchy and even his own people from the Free Cities. 

“Ser Darqarrow!” Daenera exclaimed, her smile widening. 

Darqarrow took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, his black stubble grazing her skin. He was a handsome man, only ten years her senior, with tanned skin, a long, well-defined nose, and almond-shaped eyes that were the same color of coal. His hair, black and expertly oiled, emitted a scent of spices and warmth. 

“What brings you to King’s Landing?” Daenera inquired as he released her hand. 

“Ah, you might not be aware, I am here to speak with the Master of War. There is unrest in the Stepstones, and I fear it may escalate into another war,” Darqarrow explained. 

Daenera frowned upon hearing the news. “Will you advocate for war?”

“No, sweet flower. I will advocate for improved defenses,” Darqarrow replied. “We wouldn’t face such troubles if we had established proper guard towers and provided guards along the border. However, alas, I do not rule a kingdom so what do I know? I can only offer advice.”

“Does Daemon know of this?”

“He does,” Darqarrow responded. He plucked a grape from one of the trays, propping it into his mouth with a shrug, his dark eyes scanning the lords and ladies present. “He cares little. Advising the council is no longer his responsibility, so it falls upon me.”

“And if the council doesn’t take heed?” 

The council was unlikely to take any action regarding the incursions. They cared not the first time around, why would they be any different now. The King’s leniency with the Stepstones was a burden that the realm might have to pay for once again. 

“I will go to the Sea Snake.”

“Corlys is still pursuing his son’s murderer, he would be of little help if there’s to be war.”

“It has been five years since the death of his son,” Darqarrow remarked, his tone gentle. “He is unlikely to find him now. Lord Corlys has always been aware of the troubles the Stepstones might bring to the realm. He will understand. But let’s not dwell on war and politics! Have you found a husband yet?”

Daenera chuckled, taking a sip of wine. “And here I thought you didn’t want to discuss politics. No, I haven’t found a husband.”

“Does that mean Darqarrow still has a chance to make his feelings known? I have written you many letters, but I have always fed them to the flames in fear of your rejection.” He eyed her mischievously, his words colorful and filled with empty flattery. “Will you let me send them?”

“I never said you couldn’t.” 

“Ah, but you see, I feared your response.”

“I cannot reciprocate any feelings you might pour into your words,” Daenera said with a gentle but stern voice. “And you know this. I am meant to find a husband.”

“This is why I admire the Dornish ways the most, eh? They are free to pursue their passions while the rest of us are bound by marriage and the notion of purity. What if I desired to write to you and express my passions?”

“That would cause a scandal,” Daenera replied. “Moreover, it would be inappropriate.” 

“You wound me, sweet flower,” Darqarrow moaned, clutching his doublet where his heart was. 

Daenera shook her head and laughed, feeling somewhat flustered. It wasn’t often a man made his desire for her so explicitly known. It was rarer still to have a man desire her outside of wanting her for her title. 

“I will write to you, Princess, and you may choose not to respond, but I will write to you, and you will read my words.” Darqarrow was a notorious flirt who followed his passions, be it in war or otherwise. It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t help but feel flattered by the dramatic display of passion. He wanted her for her, not to elevate his station by seeking to marry her for her title. 

“You can’t,” Daenera insisted, dismissing his compliments with a smile. “It would be inappropriate.” 

“Ah, you restrict me, sweet flower. How can I resist writing to you when you look as beautiful as you do tonight, a woman grown.”

“Exercise restraint,” Daenera playfully scolded, amused by his theatrics. 

“I fear I have never been good at restraining myself,” Darqarrow confessed, a gleam in his eye. 

Regardless of anything she could ever say to him, it was evident that Darqarrow would write to her. By then, she would do well to dismiss it too. Perhaps he needed the dismissal in writing.

As the evening wore on, time seemed to drag. With each passing hour, the guests grew increasingly intoxicated. The once graceful dances had devolved into clumsy movements accompanied by giggles. The King had departed merely an hour into the feast, leaving the Queen and the Hand to preside over the revelry. 

Having bid her final dance partner farewell, Daenera slipped away into the comforting embrace of shadows. Fanning her face, she sought relief from the heat, feeling her damp hair stick to her neck. Her feet throbbed uncomfortably in her shoes, and the tight bodice would leave bruises on her lower ribs. 

Throughout the night she had received numerous thinly veiled proposals, ranging from boys as young as three and ten to men three times her age. Daenera had politely declined the worst of them and bid the others to write her a letter for their consideration. 

She managed to escape the bustling main hall, her ears still ringing from the sudden decrease in noise. Her hand brushed against the cool stone, relishing in the sensation against her overheated skin. 

At this moment only shadows and ghosts were there to watch her. 

Eventually, she discovered a secluded sitting room, where silence enveloped her with an almost deafening intensity. The stillness echoed within her mind, and she took a seat in one of the chairs arranged by the hearth, her skirts rustling as she sat down. Her movements were stiff and restrained. It hadn’t loosened as Joyce had promised. 

The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she knew she wasn’t alone.

“Show yourself, it is impolite to lurk in the shadows.”

In truth, she was half expecting some overreaching lordling to have followed her in an attempt to try his luck, but instead she found Aemond stepping out of the shadows, his pale silver hair falling perfectly over his shoulders, not a single knot in sight. 

Daenera scowled at his presence, exhausted and not in the mood for fighting.

Aemond approached her with his hands behind his back, looking every part the prince he was, with the exception of his eye of course. The eyepatch concealed what she knew was lacking beneath. She wondered if he ever took it off, or maybe it had grown onto his face and he was unable to remove it at all. The thought amused her. 

“It isn’t wise to go wandering the halls unaccompanied, Princess.” The way he said the word ‘princess’ made it sound like an insult. “Should you find yourself in a position you would not wish to be found in.”

There was that perpetual smirk on his face, the look of knowing some secret she didn’t. It annoyed her to no end. 

“I’m well protected, I can assure you, prince ,” she told him, producing a small blade out of the fabrics of her skirt, “Should I find myself with an overreaching lord… or prince.”

Daenera let the tip of the dagger bite into the wood of the small table at her side, twirling the blade around absentmindedly, every flicker catching the light of the fireplace. “Why have you followed me, one-eye?”

Aemond’s remaining eye narrowed at the nickname. Daenera found great pleasure in that, smiling softly at him, tilting her head and resting her chin on the same hand with which she held the blade. Her eyes followed his movement as he sat down in the chair opposite her. 

“In truth? I was curious,” Aemond admitted, his long fingers drumming against the armrest of his seat. His smirk grew when he caught her looking at the movement.

“And have you satiated that curiosity? All I’m doing is sitting and enjoying the silence.”

“If you wanted to enjoy the silence in your own company, you’d have gone to your rooms,” Aemond ventured. 

It was a mistake staying. She knew that. But she too was curious. And maybe the wine once again weakened her judgment. 

“Are you insinuating that I want for your company?” Her chuckle was sharp and mocking. 

“So you’re hoping for someone else?”

“I was hoping that the men inside this castle would grant me a moment alone.”

“Then you’re sure to be disappointed, princess,” Aemond said. 

“Every woman is familiar with disappointment. It is unfortunately our lot in life.” Disappointment so easily turned to resentment. “I’m sure you’ve disappointed every woman in your life.”

Aemond was unreadable, though she saw a flicker of something in his eye. “There’s no greater disappointment than a bastard.” 

“Hmm,” Daenera hummed quietly. “I wouldn’t know of course. But I would think you familiar with the taste of disappointment. Second son, never anyone's first choice, not even your mothers. You know, I’ve never seen disappointment on a mothers face before I saw yours.”

Her words stung him. 

A pity, their conversation was so promising. Daenera leaned over the table, feeling the bodice of her dress press in on her ribs, threatening to spill her breasts from its confines. The position made the necklace dangle, the ruby flickering like fire just above her breaths. Aemond’s eye flickered back to hers, unreadable, sharp, ice.

“Let me give you some advice, one-eyed prince, find some other insult to levy against me, bastard is beginning to ring hollow and there’s nothing more disappointing than a weak insult.” 

If you’d prefer I call you a whore, I will happily oblige. It’s a title you may share with your mother.” 

“You may, if you want me to call yours the same,” Daenera bit back, knowing the retort was weak at best. With an indignant huff, Daenera leaned back in her chair again, releasing some of the pressure on her ribs. 

“Tell me, one-eyed prince, why have you started this war?”

“You know why,” Aemond mused, his eye ever present on her. 

“Yes, well, revenge, ruin, fire and destruction, it’s all well and good… but what was it? consumption? I never understood that part. Do you mean to cannibalize me?”

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

She knew what he meant. A fire burned, it consumed and it destroyed, leaving nothing but ash and ruin in its wake. What she couldn’t be sure of was what kind of ruination he was planning. When faced with such possibilities, many would turn away, but Daenera would face them, morbidly intrigued. She wondered whether it was out of revenge only, or if he was just bored.

“A dumb girl is all a man could wish for,” Daenera sighed.

“A truely dumb girl, yes, not one feigning stupidity,” Aemond said, eye never leaving her.

“I can almost hear the compliment,” Daenera teased. “It’s a pity an underhanded compliment won't get you anywhere, otherwise I would think you’d be wearing the crown by now.”

A flash flickered across his sharp features. He wanted it, she realized. He wanted the crow for himself, but duty did not permit his dark ambition, shackled by his own birth’s restrictions. He envied Rhaenyra and if not her, his brother, for their claim to the throne. And in turn he hated them for it. 

“It has been a long evening, Aemond the one-eyed,” Daenera sighed, picking up her shoes with a grunt and a sharp jab to her ribs after sliding the dagger into it’s hiding place. “As entertaining as it is to spare words with you, I think I will head to bed.”

Aemonds hand snapped out, wrapping around her wrist and effectively stopping her in her tracks. He looked up at her, for once, eye burning into hers. Daenera stared at him bewildered. His hand burned against the skin of her wrist, the fire traveling up her arm and infecting the rest of her, coiling in her stomach. 

“ Aemond ,” she warned. 

“You should release me,” Daenera commented, waiting to see whether he’d peel his fingers off her or he’d pull her down to her knees. “You want things you can’t have. I’m aware of the allure of it, but you should turn your one good eye towards what you can have.” 

“Oh, I have my eye turned towards what is within my reach,” Aemond drawled, his voice making the hairs on the back of her neck stand, heart thrumming in her chest. Daenera ripped her arm out of his grip, dropping her shoes on the floor as she went to grip the armrests of his chair, staring him down. His eyes burned fiercely with something Daenera didn’t fully understand yet.  

One of her hands grabbed onto his jaw, fingers digging into his skin, twisting it as she forced him to stay in place for what she had to say to him. “I will not let you destroy me.” 

“Destruction is not the only thing I promised,” Aemond muttered.

“I burn, you burn,” Daenera promised. “It all ends the same… With ash.”

If he tried to ruin her, she shall return the favor. If he wished to consume her, then she would do the same to him. Fire rarely had a master, all it did was consume and destroy. 

Upon releasing him, Daenera picked up her skirts and left the room, disregarding her shoes. He may do with them as he wished, burn them, throw them out, keep them. She didn’t care. Her bare feet met cold stone as she swept through the halls at night, barely lit by the candles along the walls, the shadows dancing in revelry, ghosts breathing down her back. 

Fenrick awaited her outside her door, a disapproving scowl on his face. “Where where yo-where are your shoes?”

“I seem to have misplaced them,” Daenera answered shortly, passing into her quarters. Fenrick followed, closing the door behind them, giving the two some privacy.

“You disappeared.”

“I needed a moment to myself.” Daenera began to remove her jewelry, feeling hotter than ever before and unable to breathe properly. Did Aemond poison her somehow? 

“And where you?” He questioned. “By yourself?”

Daenera glared at him sharply, in no mood to be questioned. “Of course.”

“But your shoes-,”

“Were killing my feet so I kicked them off somewhere I do not recall.”

“You shouldn’t wander the halls alone. It is not safe,” Fenrick advised with a stern tone, calling out her mistakes. “This isn’t Dragonstone.”

“I’m aware it isn’t Dragonstone!” Daenera exploded, trying to undo the laces of her dress so that she could finally breathe. Along her skin she still felt Aemond’s eyes on her, lingering, haunting. She needed the dress off. “I’m aware this isn’t home. I do not need you to remind me.”

King’s Landing had once been a home. But it no longer felt like that. The halls were cast in shadows and ghosts. The maids seemed more like mice and the gods has made a Sept out of what once was a place for Targaryen pride. No longer would her brother's laughter meet her in the night when they couldn’t sleep. There was no longer anyone to read her bedtime stories like Laenor had. Her mother would no longer take her to the gardens in search of flowers. 

And Ser Harwin was no longer there to bring her into the Kingswoods in search for her specific plants. He would no longer comfort her and tell her not to listen to what the witch had said. For he was dead. Laenor was dead.

Some of those things were forever lost, while others awaited her on Dragonstone.

“I’m sworn to protect you-,”

“I know,” Daenera cut off. “But sometimes, I just need a moment to myself. I feel like I can’t breathe ...” 

Fenrick nodded. “Shall I call for the maids?”

“Unfortunately I think so, unless you’re prepared to unlace my dress.”

“I’ll call for Joyce,” Fenrick said before leaving through the door. 

Daenera waited, feeling uncomfortably confined in her dress. She wasn’t sure why its confines bothered her so much, she had worn far more uncomfortable dresses, yet she felt as if this one was a prison on its own, slowly squeezing all of the breath and life out of her. 

By the time Joyce showed up bleary eyed, Daenera had considered cutting her way out of the dress and had even gone as far as to slip the blade from its hiding place. 

“Are you going to ruin that perfectly fine dress?” Joyce chidded, helping the exhausted princess to her sore and cold feet. 

“Only if you didn’t arrive at this very moment.”

“It would have been such a waste,” Joyce argued, her strong fingers tearing at the lace, slowly unwinding it until Daenera felt the fabric begin to slip down her body. 

“ You promised that it would loosen!”

She wiggled out of the dress, leaving it on the floor, removing the small hip pads that only served to puff up the dress. Daenera didn’t otherwise need her hips enhanced, finding that she curved more than most girl her age. She reached behind her and began to impatiently untie the shift, her hands getting slapped away by the experienced maid. 

It didn’t take long before the strings had been loosened enough for her to wiggle out of that either, leaving her only in her underdress. It always felt strange to be free after spending so long in a shift and bodice. 

In the mirror she could see every red line from where the fabric had been sown, every edge and curve of what she had worn. By her lower ribs were two, already yellowing bruises. She would not wear this dress again. 

Daenera slipped the underdress off and replaced it with a nightgown, climbing into bed while Joyce put away her clothing. “It's a wonder any babies are born when women wear such things.” 

Joyce chuckled. “Men tend to find a way.” 

“Yes, they do,” Daenera murmured to herself sinking beneath the covers.

[stiltonbasket]

Quan YizhenxYin Yu for the ask meme? Cause they've been on my mind.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

Yin Yu is the werewolf, and Quan Yizhen is the hunter. Only, Quan Yizhen is an orphan whose biological father was a werewolf, which means that he can't be turned by werewolf bites; so he keeps chasing reclusive werewolf Yin Yu around the countryside in an effort to learn more about his dad.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Quan Yizhen is the merman, and Yin Yu is the fisherman! Quan Yizhen likes to chase fish into Yin Yu's nets. <3

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

They're both witches, but Quan Yizhen becomes Yin Yu's temporary familiar after he gets turned into a curly-haired kitten. Yin Yu pretends not to be pleased about this, but somehow, he always has delicious fish on hand...

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

Quan Yizhen as the barista, Yin Yu as the coffee addict. Quan Yizhen is frankly terrified by the amount of coffee trauma surgeon Yin Yu needs to get him through the day.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

Not sure how this one would work out, because professor Yin Yu would never let student QYZ TA for him because they'd never get any work done. He does recommend Quan Yizhen as a TA to Pei Ming, though.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

Knight Quan Yizhen is prince Yin Yu's personal guard, and is also personally responsible for the fact that none of his arranged betrothals work out. Eventually, Yin Yu figures out that Quan Yizhen is in love with him and ends up in a lavender marriage with princess Shi Qingxuan, who is smitten with her lady-in-waiting Yushi Huang.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

Quan Yizhen is teacher to Yin Yu's son Lang Ying, a street child entrusted to him by his boss Hua Cheng (who set up an ongoing payment for Lang Ying's care and then immediately forgot that LY existed). Lang Ying was a quiet child who rarely spoke, but Quan Yizhen is so >:D all the time that LY just had to go home and report all his teacher's escapades to his dad.

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Quan Yizhen is the writer, and Yin Yu is the editor. Yin Yu keeps trying (and failing) to convince Quan Yizhen that the love interests in his books can't all be slightly different versions of Yin Yu.

[nellie-elizabeth]

Book Tracking Check-In 10.4.24

TOTAL "Official" TBR: 100 (95 + 3 not on GR + 2 currently reading)

GOAL 1 BOOKS: OWNED & NOT READ (16 as of 10.4.24, 1 is preordered)

Dawnshard - Brandon Sanderson

The Sunlit Man - Brandon Sanderson

Nona the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir

Mammoths at the Gates - Nghi Vo

The Brides of High Hill - Nghi Vo

The Mars House - Natasha Pulley

10 Things That Never Happened - Alexis Hall

Tender Is the Night - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Go Tell It On the Mountain - James Baldwin

Love and Freindship (sic) - Jane Austen

The Unconsoled - Kazuo Ishiguro

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

The Real Inspector Hound & Other Plays - Tom Stoppard

Morning Star - Pierce Brown

My Brilliant Friend - Elena Ferrante

[What Doesn’t Break (Bells Hells)] - preordered

GOAL 2 BOOKS: BOOK CLUBS! (1 as of 10.4.24)

The Spear Cuts Through Water

GOAL 3 BOOKS: RE-READ OLD BOOKS (23 as of 10.4.24)

Peter and the Starcatchers

Peter and the Shadow Thieves

Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

In Cold Blood

The Wish List

Walk Two Moons

The BFG

Adam Bede

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down

The Princess Bride

Olive’s Ocean

The Valley of Secrets

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest

Gathering Blue

Beloved - Toni Morrison

Mama Day - Gloria Naylor

The Accursed - Joyce Carol Oates

Ivanhoe - Walter Scott

The Cricket in Times Square

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Slaughterhouse-Five

Charlotte’s Web

The People in the Trees

GOAL 4 BOOKS: CONTINUING SERIES/AUTHORS (Not currently owned/acquired) [60]

Discworld [11]

The Locked Tomb [1] *1 upcoming

Red Rising [4] *1 upcoming

Neapolitan [3]

Cosmere [3]

Critical Role [4]

After Cilmeri [5]

Priory of Orange Tree [2]

Hands of Emperor [2]

Dickens [1]

GO Graphic Novel [1]

Skyward [4]

Sanderson Other [1]

Saint of Steel [2]

Dan Jones History [2]

Random Library Books [3] *Bright Sword, Housekeeping, Penance*

Kate Alice Marshall [1]

Gods of Blood and Powder [3]

Lavender House [3]

Emily Tesh [1]

Philippa Gregory [3]

—————————

My Reading Stats in 2024 So Far: 70 TOTAL

GOAL 1 BOOKS: OWNED & NOT READ [27]

Promise of Blood

The Mighty Nein Origins - Fjord Stone

Words of Radiance

The Last Hero

Harrow the Ninth

The Narrow

A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Writings

Edgedancer

Red Rising

The Crimson Campaign

Lord Byron’s Novel: The Evening Land

Mistborn: Secret History

Night Watch

Arcanum Unbounded

Golden Son

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

How Long ‘Til Black Future Month

The Mighty Nein Origins - Beauregard Lionett

Into the Riverlands

The Autumn Republic

Apostles of Mercy

The Mighty Nein Origins - Caduceus Clay

No One Can Know

The Dispossessed

The Wee Free Men

The Adventure Zone: The Suffering Game

Oathbringer

GOAL 2 BOOKS: BOOK CLUBS! [16]

The Robber Bride

The Glass Hotel

Wylding Hall

The Unsettled

Babel-17

When We Were Orphans

Trust

The Riddle-Master of Hed

The Emperor and the Endless Palace

Prep

Parasol Against the Axe

A Psalm for the Wild-Built

Greta & Valdin

Anatomy: A Love Story

The One

Tom Lake

GOAL 3 BOOKS: RE-READ OLD BOOKS [18]

The Magicians Nephew

The Hobbit

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Cages

The Horse and His Boy

Prince Caspian

Crime and Punishment

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

The Blithedale Romance

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

The Silver Chair

The Last Battle

The Left Hand of Darkness

The School Story

Our Only May Amelia

The Host

Bud, Not Buddy

The Girl Who Played With Fire

GOAL 4 BOOKS: CONTINUING SERIES/AUTHORS [9] (Most included in Goal 1)

The Rise of Kyoshi

The Shadow of Kyoshi

Dark One

Dark One: Forgotten

Ninefox Gambit

Paladin's Grace

Skyward

Immortality: A Love Story

Paladin's Strength

[hpsaffics]

Authors are revealed for the HP Saffics Summer Exchange 2023! Check out the 33 fabulous double drabbles on AO3 or below 🏖. Treat giving starts tomorrow and will continue all week (Jul 21-Jul 28)!

1. wrenches, redheads, and romance, oh my! by @leftsidedown [G, Millicent/Ginny]

Ginny's apartment is in need of a little extra love.

2. Deal with the Devil by @storyof-eden [T, Hermione/Bellatrix, Hermione/Narcissa]

Hermione makes a deal in order to save the one she loves.

3. On Display by @sugareey-makes-stuff [E, Katie/Alicia]

Katie tries to be good and lets Alicia watch her.

4. What Would It Take by @herochicklyrrie007 [G, Cho/Luna]

Luna's tired of no one believing she and Cho are more than friends, maybe it's time to do something to show the world how they feel about each other?

5. House Points by @bee-prescott [T, Hermione/Minerva]

A vignette of Minerva and Hermione's life together

6. Chocolate-Stained Fingertips by @slythercrux [G, Hermione/Luna]

After the war, Hermione slowly learns to find beauty in the slow rhythm of her everyday life. (And Luna finds her voice again without needing to utter a single word.)

7. Harpy by @hermioneclone [M, Narcissa/Ginny]

The new owner of the Holyhead Harpies is getting under Ginny's skin.

8. Spare you the pain by @an-organism [G, Millicent/Astoria]

Three days into a stay at St. Mungo's, Astoria wakes to an all-too-familiar face. Millicent wishes the both of them could be anywhere else.

9. the lady of the lake by @nanneramma [M, Giant Squid/Lily]

During a swim, Lily comes into her own.

10. She would’ve made such a lovely bride (what a shame she’s a lesbian) by @caitiewantstobeavadakedavrad [M, Narcissa/Marlene]

Nice dress, princess. Those three simple words destroy Narcissa’s wedding

11. Wrapped in Love by @mugsdontlie [M, Minerva/Pomona]

It’s a cosy late afternoon and Minerva helps Pomona take care of their plants in the greenhouse.

12. toss me, turn me by nocturn [T, Millicent/Pansy]

Waking is always the worst.

13. Never Again by @fiestylilmetalbendingqueen [M, Narcissa/Lily]

Narcissa's holding out hope for a hopeless situation.

14. Trophy by @byrainchance [M, Katie/Angelina]

Katie and Angelina share a post-game celebration.

15. Divination by @leftsidedown [G, Bellatrix/Sybil]

Bellatrix is pregnant, and that means cravings. Good thing her wife's psychic?

16. Interchange by @padaminpadam [T, Fleur/Angelina]

Fleur’s dress was the colour of a ghost, like a hunter wearing the skin of her prey.

17. Work can wait, my love by @cottagewhore [G, Hermione/Narcissa]

Hermione gets sick, luckily Narcissa is there to take care of her

18. Sweat it Out by strawhouses [M, Pansy/Ginny]

Pansy’s a hell of a Keeper, actually; it’s just that Ginny is in a constant state of wanting to mess her up.

19. Words Are All We'll Have by @rhiaflamesong [M, Lavender/Millicent]

Her boldness to act on her feelings was too little, came too late.

20. Beyond The Veil by @miss-grimwood [T, Bellatrix/Lily]

Bellatrix never meant for them to hurt Lily, she just wanted her all for herself.

21. Daffodils Swaying With Pansies by @hadesvampire [T, Narcissa/Pansy]

Narcissa has watched Pansy matured, always spending some time during summer breaks at Malfoy Manor. But she was never caught watching Pansy until this moment.

22. A Most Suitable Suitor by mouldy_voldy [G, Astoria/Pansy]

Astoria has brought home a prospective suitor from a respectable family. Mrs Greengrass has thoughts.

23. Going Beyond by @bleepbloopbotz [T, Hermione/Bellatrix]

Using a time-turner, Bellatrix arrives in the future of Hogwarts and meets a remarkable witch.

24. desperately mine by @fantasyborn [M, Astoria/Daphne]

Her sister may be set to marry Draco Malfoy but Astoria will always belong to Daphne.

25. Whispered Secrets by @digthewriter [T, Tonks/Ginny]

Whispered secrets turn to forbidden love. She holds your hand and you don't want to let go.

26. Flawless by @schmem14 [T, Hermione/Marietta]

Hermione has to work with an old enemy. It doesn't help that she's attracted to the one person who could ruin her career forever.

27. skin so soft by @mrsprobie [G, Hermione/Pansy]

Hermione is on a work trip with Pansy and they have to share a hotel room. The problem? There's only one bed.

28. She Got There First by @sliebman10 [T, Alice/Narcissa]

When Narcissa finds out Voldemort's plans for Alice and Frank, she has to protect her former girlfriend from that fate.

29. comfort in the absence of light by @picklesonjupiter [M, Marlene/Dorcas, Narcissa/Lily]

An attempt at normalcy after the war.

30. the air and lingers (resilience) by @blue--dreaming [T, Astoria/Ginny]

Ginny is curious, and Astoria finds her confidence.

31. I Will Stay If You Dare by @hawksquill [M, Hermione/Tonks]

Sometimes Hermione's friends with benefits arrangement with Tonks feels like the only simple thing in her life. But that's about to change.

32. leaning over the edge by @iamsiriuslyriddikulus [E, Pansy/Ginny]

Back at Hogwarts months after the war, Ginny is haunted by memories and nightmares. Only Pansy can offer relief.

33. dinner on saturday by @silv3reyedstranger [T, Pansy/Ginny]

they've certainly come a long way from being enemies, and things are different now. maybe, just maybe, they're ready for the next step.

Read all double drabbles in the collection on AO3!