#Who else but pink hair princess for this pastel look

[hajihiko]

Fashion friday Chiaki! I normally wear monochrome only but I really loved this outfit and I totally wanna use it again soon *v*

[sexilene]

husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐

rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.

"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head. 

"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"

"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.

"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.

"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined. 

"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.

"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast. 

"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away. 

"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier. 

"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that." 

"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.

"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden. 

"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to. 

"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute. 

"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.

"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.

"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.

"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?" 

"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️

i wanna marry himmm

[luvzshy]

Can you pretty please with a cherry on top do a Paige (from fighting with my family)x soft girly girlfriend reader! I’ve always loved the opposites attract trope with couples! Especially a goth gf and her pink coquette gf! Paige and her girlfriend are literally polar opposites like Kuromi and My Melody (yes they’re girlfriends bc I say they are😂😍)

Sugar and Spice

Paige leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, watching as you flit around the room with that sweet, pastel dress of yours. It’s like you radiate sunshine, a soft contrast to the dark, brooding energy she carries everywhere she goes. She never understood how you managed to be so effortlessly… bright.

“You sure you want to wear that to the match tonight?” Paige teases, her smirk growing as you glance over at her with that wide-eyed, innocent expression she loves.

You tilt your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong with it? Too much pink?”

Paige chuckles, pushing off the wall and walking over to you. She’s still in her gear, all black leather and chains, while you’re practically a cloud of pastel fluff. “Nah,” she murmurs, slipping her hands around your waist, pulling you closer. “You look cute.”

You laugh softly, your arms automatically wrapping around her neck. “Cute doesn’t really go with your whole ‘I’m a badass wrestler’ vibe, though.”

She shrugs. “That’s why it works. I’m the badass, and you’re my adorable little princess.” She plants a kiss on your nose, grinning as your cheeks flush a sweet pink that perfectly matches your dress.

You roll your eyes at her playfully but can’t deny the warmth her words bring. Even though you and Paige seem like complete opposites, there’s something about the way you fit together that just feels right. Her strength makes you feel safe, and your softness calms the storm she often carries with her.

“I just feel like people are going to look at us and wonder how we even ended up together,” you say, voicing the insecurity that’s been nagging at you all day.

Paige tilts her head, studying you for a second before a mischievous smile tugs at her lips. “Let them wonder,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “We don’t owe anyone an explanation. Besides…” Her hands trail up to your cheeks, gently tilting your head up so you’re looking straight into her dark eyes. “I like the way you look next to me. You make me look even cooler.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, so I’m just an accessory now?”

Paige shakes her head, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Nah, you’re the reason I’m even halfway decent.” She pulls you even closer, her breath warm against your skin. “You make me better, babe. And don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. They don’t get us, but I do. That’s all that matters.”

Your heart flutters at her words. It’s moments like this that remind you why you fell for her in the first place. Beneath all the toughness and swagger, Paige has a heart of gold, especially when it comes to you.

“Fine,” you say, leaning into her embrace. “But if anyone says anything, I expect you to body slam them.”

Paige laughs, the sound deep and warm. “Deal. Now come on, princess. Let’s go show the world how opposites attract.”

With her arm around your shoulders and your hand in hers, the world outside feels a little less intimidating. It doesn’t matter how different you look or how much people don’t understand your relationship. What matters is the way Paige looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world who makes sense to her.

And that’s more than enough.

[deceitfuldevout]

Kook for Rent

Dark!Virgin!Topper Thorton x Reader x Dark!Stepbro!Rafe Cameron

Word Count: +1,612

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Bondage, Human trafficking, Mentions of past stepcest, Forced prostitution.

Author's note(s): I've been meaning to finish this off before I deep-dive into studying.

Rafe would consider Topper to be his best friend. So of course, him being the best friend that he is decides to make Topper's dream come true: A chance to fuck his cute stepsister. Rafe is well aware of just how many guys would kill to spend the night with the Kook princess herself. He knows what your market value is and decides to take advantage of the opportunity.

Rafe counts the cash in hand, licking the pad of his thumb before raking through the stack of bills. His dad had cut some of his allowance out for not keeping an eye on Sarah, yet you weren't given the same punishment. It wasn't fair. So, what better idea than to rent you out to his best friend? He smirks at the heavy wad. Topper's family earned well more than his did, one of the few reasons why he tolerates the Kook. That and how he's known him since they were kids. Topper would never turn against him, even if he wanted to.

Rafe knew that Topper was head over heels for you. He's seen the way Topper would glance at you, when he thought no one else was watching. Of course, he wouldn't admit it, he's not the type to cross that boundary unless the feelings were returned. But if given the opportunity, he'd jump your bones. Rafe isn't going to let his friend die a virgin, not if he can help it. As soon as he finishes counting the money he leads his friend down the hallway to where your room was. There you were, bound and gagged to the bedpost.

Rafe made sure you were presentable, after all, Topper is a special guest. This is the first time he's ever ventured into your room. Different pastels and pinks littered the place. A few stuffed animals had been tossed aside in the struggle. Your hair had been messy during the fight. Rafe made sure to dress you in that one slip on that would drive any man crazy. For a moment, Topper couldn't believe it. He'd finally have a chance with the Kook queen herself. Who wouldn't want this? You were everything he's ever dreamed of. Valedictorian, top of their class, hell, you were even prom queen, yet here you were, presented just for him.

Before he could approach any further, Rafe places a hand on Topper's shoulder, "Listen, man, there's a reason why I chose you, I don't want anyone else doing this," He looks his friend dead in the eyes, "It's her first time too y'know?" Rafe eases his friend into it. Topper raises his brows at that statement, his pupils are blown as he looks your way. When would he ever get another chance like this? Both of them are sat on either side of the bed.

You glare at the two men with weary eyes, mascara now running down both cheeks. Each time one of them would approach, a swift kick would be sent their way. Topper had to dodge a few times until Rafe finally took charge. His hands immediately wrapping around your neck and squeezing as hard as he could. He doesn't stop, even when your face starts to change color.

Topper tries pleading with with him, "C'mon man! She can't breathe!" worried that his friend may have taken it too far. Rafe doesn't let go despite Topper's pleas until you almost pass out. When he releases his grip, an angry mark is left behind. You try to catch your breath despite the lack of air. It became clear that the gag wasn't helping one bit. Topper felt weary of the circumstances of how you ended up like this.

Rafe glares at his best friend, "Yeah, but you're still here," he knows how to read people, what makes them bend to his will, "You know she used to have a mouth on her?" he chuckles, "Fixed that shit up," Rafe grabs a leg while you're still drowsy and ties it at the end of the bed frame. He repeats this action for the other leg before laying at your side, "Sometimes you've gotta slap a bitch around, or else they'll feel like they're in charge," pointing a taunting finger in your face, "Remember this, I own your ass, you so much as take another breath, it's because I allowed it," He then raises both hands in the air, nodding for his friend to proceed, "Go on, she won't do that again," he smiles triumphantly.

For a moment, Topper is hesitant. Should he really be doing this? Rafe rolls his eyes, "There's a reason why I chose you, Top," Rafe needed to have Topper trust him, "I could've let Barry fuck her first, but I chose you," Rafe drags down the waistband of your panties, "All this, just for you," revealing the jewel plug to his friend. Topped let out an audible groan at the sight of it. He could feel the strain of his cock swelling under his shorts. Rafe parts your legs for a better angle. His hands grip at each cheek, parting your folds to give Topper a good view. Rafe made sure to lube up that pretty cunt of yours, he left the plug inside your ass in case Topper wanted to pay extra.

Topper juts his hips, he groans at the friction. He rubs his tip in between both breasts. A small trail of precum already leaking through, "F-fuck...she feels so soft..." Rafe made sure you'd use the extra soft lotion, the sparkly kind. Of course, it'd make Topper go crazy, what guy wouldn't? Glitter tits? Is that not every man's dream? He jerks himself off, using your tits for the extra friction. He toyed and played with both breasts until they peaked. His brows furrow, indicating that he was close, "Fuck man...she looks so pretty like this..." In a few seconds he'd already came in heavy waves, choking out a heavy groan before emptying a load. His cheeks were now a vibrant hue from the first round. His eyelids fluttering shut as he spread his seed against your bare chest.

Topper parts from you for a moment to catch his breath. He admires the view below him. More specifically that doe-eyed look on your face. He pokes out his tongue to lick his lips. Rafe drags the chair from your vanity closer to the bed, he plops his feet on your bedside. He lets Topper take charge for now. So far, his best friend was learning fast. Topper wipes at your tears, cooing a string of apologies, "Shh...sh... you're okay..." he swipes a stray tear with the back of his thumb gently. Rafe rolls his eyes at the sentimental act, "Jeez, Top, you're too soft on the slut," He clicks his tongue, alerting his friend to turn around.

Rafe then tilts his head to the bottle of lube and condom placed on the nightstand, "The bitch is already worked up, all you gotta do is fuck her now," as soon as those words hit your ears another muffled scream escapes. You thrash violently against the bindings, ignoring the searing pain of rope being dug into raw skin. Rafe lept from his seat, "Hey, hey, enough of that," he scolds, "I'm protecting you, what do you not understand? It's either Topper or Barry and we both know which one you'd prefer," as if you had a say in any of this. You glare back at the two men, giving them a death stare. It doesn't faze the Cameron heir, not one bit, "Stop being such a fucking baby," Rafe knew you could take much more, so why was Topper being such a fucking softie?

Topper shrugs of his friend, tuning him out as he wrapped himself up. He coats the condom with a light about of gel before rubbing it against your bare folds. He' g's been waiting for this for a long, long time. He presses his tip against the opening, grunting at the sensation, "Fuck...she's really warm," Topper's never felt this good in his life. He starts off at a slow pace, his eyes are mesmerized by the sight of his cock sinking deep into your channel. He carefully pumps his shaft, reveling in the feeling of a warm cunt squeezing him.

Topper groans, "Fuck....I'm really your first huh?" slowly but gently, picking up pace. He was much different than Rafe, gentler. What Thorton hadn't known, was that the Cameron boy had beaten him to it. After catching you sneaking out, Rafe decided that the best form of punishment was to pop your cherry. He hadn't told Topper this. Instead, he wanted to build that level of trust. Even if that meant putting you on the line.

Rafe knew Topper hadn't been with any other girl before. Of course, he wouldn't know the difference. You moan into your gag, eyelids fluttering shut as you fought the approaching orgasm. Rafe licks his lips at the sight of it. His best friend fucking his step-sister shouldn't turn him on this much. But something about it seemed so fucking hot. Shit, maybe he could sell the footage. Make it into an amateur porn. He's been tight on cash recently, might as well put you to good use. But no, he already had enough blackmail to keep you in line. He knows there's no coming back from this. He's already ruined you for any other man. Rafe owns your cunt and ass. He spent weeks making sure to train you well. You were a fighter, yes, but he's much, much stronger.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 12

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Murder, mentions of kidnapping

Author’s Note: Getting into problem causing <3

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Plot

“Excuse me?”

She was poking her head out her bedroom door, glancing between the two stormtroopers who guarded her door. They glanced down at her through their visors then between each other. She stood with her hands neatly in front of her, as if holding her dress up.

“Yes, princess?” The one on the right asked.

“Could one of you come in here and help me fasten the hooks on my dress?” She came off innocent, looking up at them with a sheepish smile. She motioned to her back. “I can’t reach them myself and I don’t wish to bother Isowen so early.”

The guards glanced between one another again before the one on the left shrugged. The trooper on the right followed her into the bedroom, asking something about the hooks and why she wore them if she couldn’t reach them. She rolled her eyes as the door shut behind him, just in time for Din to shove his elbow into the guard’s head. Before the trooper could yell out, Din slashed his knife across his throat, letting the guard drop to a heap on the floor. She scrunched up her nose at the sight, looking up at Din with a small frown.

“Do you really think this will work?” She asked as Din started to peel the armor off the stormtrooper, replacing his own with each piece.

“If I’m going to ensure you’re safe until we get that tracker out of your arm,” Din pointed out, lifting the trooper’s chest piece over his head. “This is going to work just fine, or get me killed; we have to find out one way or another.” 

“That is actually the worst rationale I have ever heard,” she pointed out, lifting the helmet of the trooper off his head. She held it out to Din, who stepped into her closet to change out of his. When he stepped out, she gave him an appraising look, but then scrunched her nose up once more. “I prefer the beskar.”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, lifting the body of the trooper over his shoulder and shutting him in her closet. “You really don’t think your maid will say anything about him?”

“Isowen is loyal to me,” she promised, looking up at him. “No one else.”

He walked out of the closet again, gathering the blaster off the floor and turning to look down at her. She stood in front of the mirror of her vanity, attempting to fix her hair, before she turned back to him. He nodded once, motioning for the door. As she stepped away, however, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms. She looked up at him –into the visor of an enemy –and gave a soft smile.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised. His hand trailed over the holster that was covered by the pastel pinks of her skirt. “And the moment I do –I’m going to marry you.”

“You –,”

“All good in there?” The other trooper called through the door, knocking.

She sighed, glancing over her shoulder. Then she put the mask of innocence back on. “Yes, yes –We’re coming now.”

Din rested his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the bedroom door. When she opened it, he dropped his hand and took his stance as a stormtrooper.

“We’re to escort you downstairs,” the trooper explained, nodding down the hallway. “Credence is waiting on you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing at Din. He wasn’t looking directly at her, his visor pointed down the hall, but she knew his eyes were cast towards her. Then she nodded, holding her hands behind her back and standing tall, and made her way down to meet her fate.

*****

Din stood back against the wall, opposite of his “partner.” The trooper –whose TK moniker was RG-1122 –had asked him about her dress, and if he “got a good look.” Which prompted Din to “accidentally” jab him with the end of his blaster. Now, they stood on opposite sides of a dining room, where Calisto, Credence and her ate in silence. Din was across from his princess, eyes trained on her.

She was clearly uncomfortable, hand trembling each time she brought her food to her mouth. Din had to repress the urge to comfort her, to reach out to her. If he wanted to get her out of the palace, he needed to play the part better. But her confidence from before had disappeared, faded into the silence that filled the room. 

“Have you considered your wedding gown yet, my dear?” Credence asked, breaking that silence, to address her. 

She shook her head, one hand slipping off the table. Her eyes glanced at Din momentarily before looking to her mother and back to Credence. He was certain she was touching the dagger under her dress; he hoped it brought her comfort when he couldn’t. 

“I have not, no,” she replied, voice soft but not the same softness she reserved for him or Grogu. It was a softness that suggested she wanted her voice to be hidden.

“I do like a plunging neckline,” Credence suggested, and Din gripped his blaster tight as the old man’s head visibly tilted down as he stared at her cleavage. “You would look lovely in something like that green dress you wore before being taken.”

Din almost scoffed. Taken. As if Din had been the reason she left this nightmare of a place. But he bit his tongue, glancing at her mother, who wasn’t even listening to the conversation. Calisto was reading over a tablet, eyes narrowed. 

“I do not have that dress any longer.” Which Din knew was a lie, as she had worn it for him. She wouldn’t wear it for anyone but him now. 

“A pity.” Credence waved his hand absently. “You can have it recreated in white.”

She just nodded. Calisto stood suddenly, pushing her plate away from her. Din stood ready, eyeing the woman carefully. 

“Credence, your presence has been requested at the senate to give your official statement to withdraw your name.”

“I will not give my word until we are married,” Credence countered, standing up. 

Din turned his attention to her, as she gripped her fork tight. They talked about her like she wasn’t even there, and Din hated every second of it. He couldn’t imagine how awful it felt for her. 

Calisto rolled her eyes, picking up her tablet and handing it over. “You have no choice. Gideon is making his move, and it is me or you. And you are not in his favor.”

“And you are, Calisto?”

Calisto looked to her now, a rather sinister smile spreading over her lips. “Oh, I will be. When your lovely wife brings me the child.”

Both Din and her attention snapped to Calisto. Her eyes widened and she shot from her seat, chair clattering to the floor behind her. RG-1122 stepped forward, pointing his blaster at the back of her head. Din, however, pointed his blaster at him.

“You will not touch that child,” she growled, pointing at Calisto with an anger he had never seen before. “You will get him over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Calisto hissed back, stepping around the table to approach her. “Do you really think you have a choice in this matter?” She yanked her daughter's arm out harshly, pushing the sleeve up. A dull, intermittent flashing could be seen just under the skin. “I control your every move.”

“You control nothing,” she sneered, yanking her arm back from Calisto’s grip. 

“You’re right, I don’t.” Calisto shoved her back, pointing at Credence. “He does, as your husband.”

Credence reached out to grab her, but Din took half a step forward. She shot him a warning look, telling him silently to leave it. She steadied herself, slipping just past Credence’s touch, and gathered her skirts. 

“I will not give up that child,” she promised, looking between the two right now. “The Mandalorian will cut you down where you stand if you try.”

“One Mandalorian against an army —I think you overestimate his abilities.”

“I think he would like his odds.”

Oh, and he really did. 

*****

“You need to return to Sorgan,” she ordered as he escorted her back to her room. Her voice was low, commanding. One that showed off the title she possessed. 

Din didn’t like it. Not right now, at least. 

The other trooper had been ordered to stay back with Calisto, leaving Din to return her. The only one to question them was Isowen, though all she asked was if he needed anything. She had given Isowen a thankful look, then asked her to keep an eye out for them.

“I’m not leaving you here alone,” he argued, pushing her door open. 

“You have to stand out here,” she reminded him, leaning against her door frame as she looked up at him. He huffed in annoyance before stepping out of the room. She closed the door softly, but tapped on it, to make sure he could hear. “Din, you have to protect Grogu.” He stood at attention outside the door, listening closely as she spoke. “Go back to Sorgan, retrieve him and bring him back here by the end of the week.”

“If you have a plan, you need to tell me.”

“If I tell you, you’re going to attempt to stop me.”

“This isn’t a game —,”

“And I am not playing one.”

He glanced down the hall, where Isowen stood off to the side. She was glancing around the corner, then back at him. The twi’lek nodded once, and Din turned on his heel and shoved the door open. She yelped in surprise as he slammed the door behind him, pushing her into the room further. 

“You tell me what you have planned and I’ll tell you if it’ll work.”

“Either it works or it doesn’t,” she repeated his words from that morning. “We have to find out one way or another.”

He narrowed his eyes under the helmet, eyeing her closely. “Tell me your plan.”

“I will attend the party,” she explained carefully, crossing her arms over her chest. “You will bring the child back here, so we can protect him together.”

“But I can’t leave you alone —,”

“I am capable of protecting myself, Din.” Her hand slipped between the split of her skirt and pulled her dagger out. “I have a reason to fight now.”

He stared at her for a long time, eyes switching from her dagger to her face several times. 

“You have to trust me.��

“I do. I just —,”

“Then go save our child,” she ordered softly. “And we’ll be married by the end of the week.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dancealongthelightofday @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[iiipeaxhyiii]

Hells Sweetheart

CHAPTER ONE

The elevator dinged as a group of rowdy patrons spilled out, stumbling and laughing as they made their way into the nightclub. Bodies pressed together, sticky with sweat, moving to the pulsating beat of the music. In the corners, couples made out, oblivious to anything else. A chill breeze swept through the room, brushing against your thighs as you crossed your legs and sipped your martini.

"To what do I owe the pleasure...Alastor?"

Your eyes moved from your drink to the Radio Demon, who stood before you with his usual broad grin. That smile, unchanging over the years, never failed to send shivers down your spine. Amid the cacophony, you heard his deep chuckle. "Can't a demon just visit his dear old sister?"

Rolling your eyes, you flipped your luscious pink hair. "You only visit when you want something," you replied, a pout forming on your lips.

Alastor laughed heartily. "Well, I require your assistance with a hotel."

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "A hotel?" you questioned, tilting your head.

"Yes, dear sister, a hotel. I'm helping the princess of Hell pursue her dream of rehabilitating demons."

You pondered the idea. 'A hotel for demon redemption... I've heard about it and I must admit, it's not a bad idea. Sighing deeply, you cleared your throat. "Fine, I'll help out with this." A smile crept onto your face.

"Bring her around sometime. I'd love to show her Wonderous Wonderland." Rising from the pink couch, you walked over to your brother and hugged him.

Though the Radio Demon was rarely affectionate, he would set the world ablaze for you. "Hmm, I'll bring her soon," he sang before disappearing into the crowd.

"Hatter, I have someone new for you," Cheshire announced, entering the private room with a short demon. His wolf ears lay low, one eye black, the other red.

"Mm, what an interesting creature you are," you giggled, eyeing the newcomer.

He didn't hesitate to state his business.

"I want to strike a deal with you," he declared, a smirk playing on his lips.

You signaled Cheshire to fetch you another drink. "And what is it you want?" you asked.

A glimmer of greed flashed in the demon's eyes as he leaned forward. "I want to be known in Hell, and I want to get the girl."

Bingo. Another power-seeking demon blinded by ambition. "Hm, you're asking for quite a lot."

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, then stood abruptly. "An overlord like you is too weak to make it happen," he sneered.

In an instant, your eyes glowed pink, and a tendril of smoke coiled around his throat. "Don't test me, little man," you warned, as tears brimmed in his eyes.

"Fine. You want a deal? Let's strike one. You'll be known in Hell, you'll have money, and the girl you desire. In return, you sign your soul over to me."

The smoke dissipated, and the demon collapsed, gasping for breath. "My soul?" he croaked.

"Yes, your soul," you confirmed, a smirk on your face.

"Don't you disrespect me, little man. Don't you derogate or deride," you sang, grabbing his face and squeezing it. "You're in my world now, not your world."

Swaying your hips, you flipped your hair to the side. "And I got friends on the other side," you continued, joining Cheshire, who smirked beside you.

"She's got friends on the other side," the crowd echoed, eyes glowing pastel pink.

"That's an echo, gentlemen. Just a little something we have here in Wonderland.

A little parlor trick. Don't worry," you laughed, pulling the demon into a chair. "Sit down at my table. Put your mind at ease."

"If you relax, it will enable me to do anything I please," you promised. The room's atmosphere shifted, becoming more serene, and the demon's tense posture relaxed. "I can read your future and change it around too. I'll look deep into your heart and soul," you said, removing your black hat as cards flew out, swirling around both of you.

"You do have a soul, don't you, Lawrence?"

"Make your wildest dreams come true! I got voodoo, I got hoodoo! I got things I ain't even tried! And I got friends on the other side," you sang, as miniature voodoo dolls of Alastor and yourself bowed slightly, and a deck of cards ran by.

"She's got friends on the other side," the crowd echoed again.

"The cards, the cards, the cards will tell... the past, the present, and the future as well," you intoned, sliding the cards across the table. You gestured for Lawrence to pick a set.

"The cards, the cards, just take three.

Take a little trip into your future with me," you coaxed. Lawrence flipped over the cards: the first showed him killing indiscriminately, the second showed him locking a girl away, but the last was blank.

"Now you, young man, are from across the sea. You come from two long lines of royalty," you said, bopping his nose and twirling around. "I'm a royal myself on my mother's side." You shrugged your shoulders, bopped his nose, and twirled around. "Your lifestyle's high, but your funds are low. You need to marry a lil' honey whose daddy's got dough."

"Mom and Dad cut you off, huh, playboy?" you questioned, watching his eyes widen. "How di—" He started, but you quickly cut him off. "Oh sweetheart, I know everything." A laugh escaped your lips, sending shivers down his spine.

"Now y'all gotta get hitched, but hitchin' ties you down. You just wanna be free, hop from place to place... but freedom... takes green!" Pouring yourself a shot, you slid next to the rather young man. "It's the green, it's the green, it's the green you need, and when I looked into your future, it's the green that I see."

"Oh, you little man, I don't want to waste much time. You've been pushed around all your life." He fiddled with his fingers, memories flooding in of a life that wasn't exactly the greatest. "You've been pushed around by your mother, your sister, your brother, and if you were married... you'd be pushed around by your wife."

"But in your future, the you I see," not telling him that his future was nonexistent, you continued, "is exactly the man you always wanted to be."

"Shake my hand," you said, ready to seal the deal and have another soul in the hands of Mad Hatter. Lawrence didn't know what to do at this moment. "Oh, come on," you pressed, fluttering your eyes. "Won't you shake the poor sinner's hand?" Letting a pout form on your lips, he slowly reached his hand toward yours and shook it. "Yes..."

The room clouded with mixtures of colors, smoke swirling around you both, lifting Lawrence off the ground. "Are you ready?"

The people in the club stayed in their trance, dancing around you. "Are you ready?" they sang perfectly in sync.

"Are you ready? Transformation central!" Lawrence looked into your eyes, seeing your pupils shaped like hearts as if hypnotized. Something about you screamed danger, but he couldn't help himself.

"Transformation central!"

"Reformation central!"

"Reformation central!"

"Transmogrification central! You're changin'! You're changin'! You're changin', all right! I hope you're satisfied." Feeling power surge through his body, he shut his eyes, a burning sensation spreading along his skin. "But if you ain't, well, don't blame me... you can blame my friends on the other side." You slowly started sinking back to the ground, flipping your hair out of your face.

"You got what you wanted!"

"But you lost what you had," Cheshire sang, placing a hand on his shoulder as her eyes darkened. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his eyes widened, realizing what he had done. A maniacal laugh escaped your mouth as Lawrence backed away.

With just a quick snap of your fingers, everyone in the club was snapped out of their trance and continued to dance and get drunk. Placing the black top hat back on your head, the heels of your shoes echoed as you walked into the elevator. Once inside, you smirked. "Oh, lose the frown, why don't you, Lawrence?" You burst into fits of giggles as the door closed.

[beanghostprincess]

Beautiful Princess with a Disorder. Swiftie. Cries herself to sleep. Mommy issues. A lil fucked in the head. Loves chocolate and romcoms. Would probably kill you. Has a breakdown if you're nice to her. Hates her mom. Olivia Rodrigo listener. Talks shit about people on Twitter then moves to Tumblr to post in her coquette aesthetic blog. Her mom haunts her. Mood changes more than the weather. Loves deeply. Hates even deeper. Throws knives at Sanji's wanted poster. Kisses Sanji's wanted poster. Brushes her hair singing oddly disturbing songs about death disguised with a cute melody. Coffee with lots of cream and more sugar than coffee. Has a breakdown if something doesn't look good on her and tears apart all of her clothes. Sanji doesn't reply to her text in less than a minute and she blocks him a whole entire week. "God forbid women do anything" She literally just stabbed somebody. Says she's better than everybody else. The world is hers. Somebody says she looks like her mom and she has a panic attack. Actually listens to Ado and Vocaloid religiously. She feels like shit every day. Stays up late because her past haunts her. Talks to her stuffed animals. Wants to die. Wants to rule the world. Pink is her favorite color but only a specific pastel pink because vibrant pink is for sluts and she's a princess. Hates everyone. Loves everything. Loves everyone too. She isn't sure if she feels something. She's a bit confused, but she'll get there someday. Obsesses over a man who treats her nice once because nobody has ever loved her before. Listens to Marina and the Diamonds and Baby Bugs when she's sad. Also when she thinks she's going insane. Keysmashes. Lots of heart emojis. Wants her mom dead. "Not to be rude-" and proceeds to say the meanest thing ever with a smile. Humans fear her, animals love her. Buys compulsively to fill the void inside of her. Pulls all-nighters to cook cupcakes because her mental health is deteriorating. Looks like a cinnamon roll, would kill you. Jealous. Possessive. Has committed crimes. Abandonment issues. Unstable relationships. Girl hasn't had a normal day in her life. Stays in her room for weeks depressed and the next day she has a whole burst of energy that makes her so overconfident her chest hurts. Would look at Misa Amane and say "bitch, you deserve better" but she's literally just like her for real. Cancer girl, of course. Of course she's a cancer. Doesn't even believe in astrology, she just likes the pretty symbols. The cutest and scariest girl in the world.

[karla-the-elemental-dreamer]

🪢 KH-OC Week 2024 🪢 - Day 2 Package

Prompt: Design keyblades for Natasha and Erika.

In Day 1, you were introduced to two new teddies:

Miss Natasha Avalenka

Miss Erika Tapalados

Who are special guests for KH-OC Week 2024 under Dinh-Yu.

Here are their keyblades if they were to traverse / reside in the Kingdom Hearts realm.

Natasha: Aura of Enigma

The ? graphics are inspired by how Sora or any other KH player gets confused by an enemy. When she swings, ?s will come off the keyblade. The N in the background does not stand for Neo-Cortex, it stands for Natasha, though she seems to adopt a similar if not identical style/taste, in terms of science slash robotics/mechanics, or even archaeology. Hence some nicely shaped bones for the outer handle, with an 'Alice In Wonderland'/'Dr. Seuss' bush over the top. I believe in Kingdom Hearts, she'd fit in to being a researcher or may teeter on the edge of darkness at times.

The main reason Natasha gets this keyblade is because despite me being her creator (obviously), I don't even know the true facets of her personality. Like she is so hard to flesh out, hence she's an 'Enigma' waiting to be discovered, if anyone can work it out. That's what the E at the end of the keyblade stands for... Unless she had dealings with Ephemer or Eraqus that I know nothing about...?

---

Erika: Flower Garden

Erika would be teaming up with the guardians of light, and may even get involved in the company/surroundings of her sister. Erika would get Riku to 'like' her / get used to her quicker than both Selvian and Sierra combined. Consuls (ESFJs) have a knack for that.

With Erika's design, she just screams flowers and pretty petals, and other pretty things as well. In a sense she's like Kairi, but only in tastes. She's not as rambunctious as Kairi. Just for comparison, think of Erika as a Princess Peach type; only not getting kidnapped.

I think of Erika as a 'delicate flower', whereas Kairi is a 'Wild Flower'.

Kairi likes a sharp pink, Erika likes pastel pink and pastel green as a secondary.

---

As Day 2 here is on the topic of more/additional keyblades:

As I was setting up some things for this event, I was psychically gifted a keyblade for my inventory by Dinh-Yu and his crowd!

---

Day 2 edit: Dinh-Yu subsequently caught me out for not putting keychains on the back of the handles. I always forget those 🥲

'Aura of Enigma' would have a bright red N OR a ? of some sort.

Not sure about Erika's.

'Warioware Inc.' would have a garlic OR a mini console thing like what they use in Game&Wario.

---

Subsequent Day 2 edit: Am doing the week mostly blind due to Dinh-Yu's challenge, advice and instructions, but when scrolling through ppl's work, I saw a prompt.

I realise I have hilariously coincidentally addressed Natasha's ABSENCE OF past or at least knowledge of it 😁

So here's something else about the past. Where does Selvian come from? IRL, I have had what happened to be my favourite coloured trddy bear for a few years, until it was no longer useable for some reason. The ears were blue, but the fur was rainbow. Since the base colour was green, that's the digital skin colour because I'd spend forever with rainbow. Selvian is the unaltered version of how the teddy looks like IRL, without clothes obvs, and also therefore consequentially bald. The rest are altered to give them hair and different personalities.

The bear may have been tossed in the trash, but the spirit lived on, for that many years, and has transformed into an interdimensional entity/carryable character in the name of Selvian who appears to be the leader of everything but has a specific bridge to Kingdom Hearts. And oop! I was also calling him Selviana as a child, hence I've now taken the last A off.

---

Sierra and Erika being sisters is a fairly new concept after Erika was rolled in for Dinh-Yu. May try to address tidbits of the sisters (or just Sierra because she's KH) in future days IF I can flesh them out more. These teddies sometimes start their jobs before we even get to know them 😅

Sierra was always intended to have a sister, we just didn't know who it was.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Mind you I've never read LW but i kinda enjoyed the 2019 movie, why did you hate it? (Maybe i just wanna put Timothee Ch on a leash) feel free to go off 🌷

So, the costumes sucked from a historical perspective. Which would be less Objectively Bad and more Just Not My Thing...if the designers hadn't gone ON AND ON AT LENGTH about how ~Authentic~ they tried to make everything.

Didn't claim accuracy and didn't do accuracy: meh, whatever

DID claim accuracy and didn't do accuracy, AND won an Oscar for it: urge to kill rising

the hair design was particularly egregious, with the designer at one point saying they chose [checks notes] insane flyaways and half-up hair on adult women (who would have worn their hair entirely pinned up, for practical reasons and as a cultural marker of adulthood) because that seemed "more authentic than coiffures"

MORE AUTHENTIC

THAN THE WAY ACTUAL WOMEN BACK THEN

WORE THEIR ACTUAL HAIR

AS DEMONSTRATED IN PHOTOGRAPHS- EVEN CANDIDS -AND PORTRAITS

"blee bloo they didn't have hairspray!!!" THEY HAD POMADE. HAVING YOUR HAIR VERY SMOOTH WAS THE STYLE IN THE 1860S, EVEN FOR POOR WOMEN, AND MASSIVE FLYAWAYS ARE HUGELY IMPRACTICAL, AND NOT ALL FIXATIVES ARE HAIRSPRAY YOU ABSOLUTE-

[Marzi.exe has encountered a problem. please hold]

apart from the hair, there were fit issues and at least one case of Trying To Copy the 1994 Movie, But Worse (Amy's black and white dress in Paris).

1994. the pattern is soutache, a kind of applied trim done with flat cord that was very popular throughout the mid-late 19th century

2019. You cannot tell me the choice to have her in a white dress with black floral patterning, in effectively the exact same scene, was a coincidence.

also I'm pretty sure there was one shot with an actress visibly wearing Uggs. (EDIT- thankfully I am informed that this is a set photo and the Uggs were not visible in the finished film. i had forgotten this. good to know! leaving the pic there because STUPID HAIR and HATLESSNESS)

also the Pretty Pastel Princess Dresses (with overly fluffy attempts at bertha collars) and Matching Long Gloves (wrist gloves were popular for evening back then, and they were almost always white) in the Concord ball scene.

is it a Civil War-era ball, or is it a parade of "southern belles" at Cypress Gardens in 1995? leaning towards the latter.

once again, the choice to put Meg in pink for the ball instead of her book-described blue dress is something 1994 did first, and did better IMO

also Meg's 2015 Coachella wedding look, the fact that none of these girls from a poor family seemed to wear each other's old clothes ever, and the lazy choice to dress Jo in half-menswear instead of actually looking into menswear-inspired women's clothing in the era (which was a Thing!). but more than just the costumes pissed me off

they just...didn't seem to understand the era, or want to, or care? it was a bunch of little things that served to make it all more #relatable to modern audiences but ultimately undermined the setting:

Marmee telling a random young man she's never properly met to call her Marmee, because "everyone does." her DAUGHTERS call her that. her ACTUAL CHILDREN. who the hell else would? it's not a derivative of her name; it's a variant of Mama. Laurie can graduate to Marmee when he's an actual family friend

Jo wearing some of Laurie's clothing because "she stole it when they were hanging out in his room," according to an interview. um, NO NO AND NO, they are teenagers and that would distinctly not fly on several levels even in her progressive family. I might actually buy this if it were like "he gave them some clothes for an amateur theatrical and she kept them;" the actual Alcott sisters had a costume trunk for their plays, which is still on display at their house. but these writers clearly think a teenage boy and girl could be in his bedroom together unsupervised, for long periods of time, habitually, in 1860-whatever. which is absolutely incorrect

Jo saying "okay" in refusing Laurie's proposal. this is so tiny, I know, but while that term did already exist, it was a joke phrase only. this would be like saying "lol" while turning down your best friend's proposal today. once again, it's an example of Relatability mattering more than actually understanding the world these characters lived in

there are more, but I've blocked them out. I just really, really hated it on many levels

[redrocketpanda]

I'm literally vibrating with excitement about my Wednesday Dungeon of the Mad Mage D&D game & need to yell about it here bc otherwise I won't be able to concentrate until then

Firstly, I am in LOVE with my character - and apparently so is everyone else, which is an absolutely unexpected delight to me

Temerity is a Zariel Tiefling Barbarian, descended from the hells with 2 cambions for dads. She's a tiny, petite little thing with rose pink hair & grey tips, who wears pastel coloured high fashion dresses & killer heels, is super nice in very country gal kinda way, and is essentially a pretty little princess with a pink warhammer making her way through a dungeon with her pals

In our first game (3 weeks ago), we were missing a player but our cute ragtag bunch had fun traipsing around and getting into trouble. Temerity spent 2 rounds of combat checking out a statue of a hot sharkman and then (almost) single handedly defeated it with a single throw of a hand axe - crit hitting it & causing 18 points of damage

Then, the next week, the mysterious missing player turns up at the table with the cutest fucking Half-Orc bard boy called Elrig who plays thrash metal on his triangle. He's big and threatening looking, with a shady background, but all of his scars are from falling over & really he's just a soft boy

CUE INADVERTANT ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PRETTY LITTLE BARBARIAN PRINCESS AND THE BIG INTIMIDATING HALF-ORC BARD????

I managed to somehow snag a bardbarian romance but with cute little gender twists in week 2??!!!

We only had that one session but there was already a little flirting going on between them. Elrig seems very impressed with Temerity's combat skills & upbeat personality, and Temerity seems very taken with this big, strong boy who isn't quite who he appears to be. Plus neither of them are very smart so it makes it even more fun

We also had a very fun duo moment when Elrig was intimidating some goblins (to just tell them to keep away) and Temerity was hanging off his shoulders speaking in infernal to assist with the check. We rolled a 28. Elrig just stood there looking scary whilst Temerity's there like "yeaaaaah, y'all should be scared! Look at him... look at.. look at those muscles *feels them* wow... they're uh... they're real big..."

And possibly the cutest thing to come of this so far is that me & the player have exchanged Pinterest boards with each other. They sent me a song called Princess of the Night, which they think Elrig sings about Temerity. And we also sent each other character playlists???

Anyway it's TOO FUCKING CUTE. Like I LOVE Temerity, and I've never had a D&D romance before so it's all very akshsksjsk to me. Plus all the players are really nice?! We even had someone send some temerity/elrig related posts in the discord group and I am sooooooo

[the-fiction-witch]

Toys

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Sweet af

Concept Sorting Toys

I headed up the staircase with a flat unformed box under my arm and a roll of tape in my hand, I hopped across the landing and in through the little white door covered in pastel flowers seeing the sweet Pastel pink walls, glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling, the sweet white and pink flower blind as well as the silky pink curtains, the wooden floor with the large flower rug on the floor, the large wooden loft bed with a pink princess tower and canopy hung from the ceiling, the bed made with her cute unicorn bedsheets, the bed so full of plush toys you almost couldn't see the blankets and pillows, under her loft bed was piles and piles of toys somewhere under it was a dollhouse not sure where as I couldn't even see it, the tall pink wardrobe in the corner with the white chest of draws beside it, and then the little wooden play cupcake shop pushed up to the dresser to look built into the wall, on every single surface flat enough where shiny unicorn and rainbow stickers and everywhere that could balance one sat some kind of toy. She stood at her Cafe putting plastic food into the fake oven, in her unicorn slippers, rainbow tights, neon pink dress and marching bow in her blonde hair as she is happily plaid despite the fact that on the floor leant against her bed's ladder was a very frustrated Thomas with an empty box beside him, in his red socks, black skinny jeans, red long sleeve shirt that had been pulled to his elbows, his hair a mess and what I'm going to guess it some kind of sticky or clip pink bow in his hair too. 

"How's it going up here then?" I smiled 

He didn't say a word merely glaring at me and letting out an intense nose sigh and I guess that was my cue to help. 

"Aurora sweetie, what are you up to?" I asked

"Making cookies," she says 

"Lovely but remember we said that next week we're all moving to our nice big house. And that you need to be making some decisions on what toys you wanna take to the new house?" I asked her 

"Daddy's doing it"

"Yes Daddy can do it, but Daddy needs your help too," I told her and she went over to sit with Thomas for a moment while I formed a new box 

"Right, Bunny? we want bunny?"  he suggested offering her the stuffed bunny 

"Mr floppy Ears," she says pulling the plush into her chest 

"Okay we keep Mr floppy Ears, what about this little teddy bear?" he asked her and she merely took him into her arms too "Okay what about this little penguin?" he asked and she added that too her arms now dropping the bunny her little arms where so full "Aurora I know you love all your toys but we've moving remember, going to or nice new big house, you have far too many toys," he told her but she was having none of it and soon enough she got bored of his suggestions and sorting and she found something else to be distracted by, going and playing with her Xylophone. "Aurora," he sighed but she wasn't listening "Aurora." Still nothing "hey." He complained "Aurora Sangster Listen to your father," he asked her rather forcefully but still she ignored him  "Do not ignore me" He warned but nothing 

"Aurora sweetie," I told her and she immediately looked up "I need you to pick a teddy to send to the charity shop"

"But I like all my teddies"

"I know you do I know, but you have so many they don't fit in your bed for cuddles. All your non-bed teddies get sad and scared at night because they can't be with you" I told her "Don't you want to give them one last big hug and give them to some nice children who maybe don't have any teddies to cuddle with? won't that be nice for Mr floppy Ears, to go somewhere he'll get cuddles every night, maybe more bunny friends to play with?" 

"Okay" she sighed giving the rabbit a hug and putting it in the bag to give away "Daddy can do the rest" She smiled trying to run away  but he caught her

"I can but you need to help me, Daddy's very silly and you don't want Daddy putting some of your toys in the wrong boxes?" he told her giving her head a kiss and sitting her on his leg 

"Okay" she smiled sitting on his leg and they slowly went through her toys even if she did need a bit of encouragement to get rid of some of them and had been caught more than once sneaking toys out of the giveaway bag and into the packing box 

"Okay, next up what about this collection of mystery slime-pooping animal figures you begged for every time we went shopping and have not touched since you opened them"

"I wanted the unicorn"

"I know You wanted the Unicron but as I told you every time we went to the store and every time you begged and cried for one, it's a mystery you don't know what in it you might get one you don't want. and these are all the ones you didn't want so can we get rid-" He began but I glared "Rehome them with someone else?" 

"Okay"

"Okay? all of them?"

"Yeah"

"Good girl," he told her even though it was kinda hard to watch him get rid of them, given she had collected so many and they were so damn expensive, so many store meltdowns and now they just tumble into the donate bag. But it was progress very expensive progress. "Okay let's keep this going, Barbie helicopter?"

"Charity"

"Excellent, Barbie mermaid?"

"Charity"

"Okay barbie camping set?"

"Charity"

"Good good, Barbie… uhhh not sure but she has had a boob job"

"Thomas!" I snapped 

"What?" He asked "your telling me this is not the body of a woman who has had more then one procedure? Her boobs are so plastic they don't even move" 

"That's just what Barbie looks like now"

"Hu. I swear my sister's Barbie's had way better boobs"

"No Thomas you were just a teenage boy"

"Good point. I'd have stared at anything with boobs. I was once late to school because of a particularly tight dressed princess on a cereal box" he explained "you wanna get rid of Barbie?"

"Yeah" she nods going back to her cafe

"It's a bloodbath of Barbie today" I laughed 

"I don't like barbie" she says as she works 

"Fair enough" I shrug  

"What about this uhhh spelling bot?" He asked her and she shrugged not overly bothered Thomas gave it a test to make sure it even still worked pressing one of the buttons 

"E" It yelled and he pressed another one "J" it yelled immediately a smile creeped onto his face "hey y/n?" He whispered

"Yes?" I asked as I was still packing her clothes 

"B.O.O.B.S" It yelled

"Hehehe it says boobs" he giggled

"Really Thomas? Really?"

"B.O.O.B.I.E.S" he typed and giggled away

"God damnit Thomas." I sighed "it's for ages two and up"

"I mean… I am ages two and up just way way up"

"Put it in the charity bag."

"Fine" he sighed putting it away continuing to go though the mountain of toys even if she didn't have a whole lot of focus or interest in the task honestly some deciuwe made for her like her money vet toy that she has never plaid with and freaks us both out in a daily basis that can go on the bag and things like her dollhouse which we are not getting rid of ever because she begged for one for so long and it was extremely expensive plus it's just a nice feature of her room maybe she'll play with it more when she's older she likes mini brand things now so I'm sure the dolls House will be enjoyed just needs time and to not be buried under sixteen thousand mystery dolls. Until her room was pretty much packed or as packed as it could be given we move next week so she still wanted some toys out to play with but three charity bags it pretty damn good for a three year old getting rid of toys. 

"P.U.S.S-" it began

"Thomas, put it down!" I threaten

"Fine" he pouts 

"Don't spell bad words on the toys"

"I wasn't going to spell a bad word"

"Weren't you?"

"I was going to write pussycat"

"Sure you where" I sighed taking the bags so he had no chance to get it again and so she didn't get anything else back out of them and as I took them away I thought of the perfect punishment "Aurora. Daddy wants to play make over" I told her and immediately she bolted over and sat on him excitedly so I shut the door giving him no escape even.

[c4sswr1t3sth1ngs]

Gaara x OC Drabble (fic under the cut)

~ ~ ~

notes - sfw but very flirtatious teenagers, hardly proofread, iffy lore-accuracy because I haven't watched naruto in a hot second

a/n - the voices won. there's nothing else to it.

Never, ever, not once in his thirteen years of life, had Gaara fancied the idea of a party. Loud noises, bright lights lots of people – he hated all of the above on even the best of days when he could be left alone to do what he pleased. And now that he was being thrown right into the middle of a party, he hated it just as much as he thought he would.

The suit he was forced to wear was tight and itchy, and he wanted nothing more than to get away from the purple lights that shone so dim yet so bright it gave him a headache. Temari and Kankuro were sitting just a foot or two away, giggling to themselves as they pointed out cute boys in the crowds to each other. This whole stupid celebration was completely frivolous, in Gaara’s opinion. It would have taken less time and effort had they just let everyone get on with the damn chunin exams. After a while, their sensei, Baki, walked up to them, a very serious look on his face.

“Miss Kori Hamasaki has been located,” he stated plainly. Temari and Kankuro both snapped to attention while Gaara lazily turned his head to their sensei. Still, his interest was piqued; she was the whole cause for the party, after all.

“I am going to escort you three to where she is, and then I’d like for you to befriend her. Get as close to her as possible so eliminating her will be quick and easy,” he instructed. All three gave a nod before Baki beckoned them on, and they were off through the crowds.

They must have gone all the way to the other side of the building the party was being held in when they finally came close to where the former princess must have been. The team was approaching a circular bar for the younger ninjas who weren’t allowed to drink alcohol just yet where those three leaf genin from the other day sat. The pink-haired Sakura Haruno in a red cocktail dress with a frilly bottom, the ungodly annoying Naruto Uzumaki in a white button-up with an orange tie and deep blue slacks, and the ever-brooding Sasuke Uchiha in an entirely black tuxedo sitting removed from the rest of the group. Except Naruto was talking to a figure that Gaara had never seen before, one who stuck out from the crowd like a sore thumb.

A head of short, fluffy hair with two long sideburns that reached the person's chest kicked back in silent laughter, the sound drowned out by the crowds. Their hair was split-dyed two different shades of sage green, one more pastel than the other. They wore a sheathy pink suit top with a white cropped undershirt that clung tight to their skin and made their chest look flat. Ultramarine bell bottoms clung tight to their thick thighs and flowed out at their knees, growing translucent down their calves. They had black, crushed velvet platform high heels that accentuated their softly toned legs, and an abundance of black and silver necklaces and chokers adorned their open neck. They laughed and talked with a sort of “pizzaz” or charm that Gaara couldn’t really explain, but certainly wasn’t very ladylike. Was this person really the long-lost Hamasaki princess?

Baki cleared his throat now that they were only a few feet away from the group. The green-haired person turned their head to face them; they had rectangular, wire-frame, rose gold glasses and wore heavy wings of eyeliner around their steely turquoise eyes that made them look far older than thirteen. Wasn’t the princess younger than Gaara? A deep, cherry-red lip stain coated their lips, and they raised eyebrows that had been dyed matching shades of green to their hair as well as cut into little rectangles. Their skin looked just as pale as Gaara’s, and he swore he could see little white lines of scars littering their upper arms.

“Miss Kori Hamasaki,” Baki began, giving a slight bow. “I’ve heard many–”

“Woah, woahwoahwoah,” the person interrupted. Their voice was sharp and a little inarticulated, something that Gaara typically found vexatious. Typically. “‘Miss?’ And ‘Kori?’ Man, Naruto, I thought you said news spread quickly ‘round these parts,” they chuckled, turning to their blonde friend. He seemed more interested in Gaara and his siblings, a surprised and confused look on his sunkissed face and in his ocean-blue eyes. The person turned back to the group, a small grin on their tinted lips and a raised eyebrow. “You guys seem new ‘round here, so I’ll go easy on ya. First of all, drop the formalities – you’re gonna make me vomit.

“And secondly, I haven’t gone by ‘Kori’ in years,” they added, leaning back in their chair and picking up a champagne glass full of a pink-tinted, sparkling drink. Was that really champagne? And if it was how did they get their hands on it? “It’s Ambrose these days. And they/them pronouns, too. You got that all, right sir?”

Baki stumbled over his words for a moment and Gaara glanced at his siblings as they looked at each other with concerned faces; Suna had never really been fond of queer people, and this Ambrose was very blunt about what Gaara assumed was their transness.

“Well, ah, Ambrose,” Baki started, clearly gritting his teeth a little, “my name is Baki. Seeing as how you are considered royalty here in Konaha, I wanted you to meet one of the Suna’s strongest genin teams.”

“Please, Baki, I am no monarch,” Ambrose dismissed, waving their hand a little. They wore smooth, sparkly press-on nails that glittered beautifully in the purple light, all of which were black except for their middle and ring fingers; those were an opalescent white. “But, seeing as how you’ve come all this way, I am quite intrigued to meet these genin you speak of.”

Baki let out a forced laugh and stepped aside. “These are the Kazekage’s three children, dubbed the Sand Siblings.”

Ambrose got out of their seat to greet them, and they were taller than even Kankuro – Gaara must have guessed they towered above him at 5’8” while he stood a foot shorter. They extended a hand to his sister first.

“I’m Temari,” she said cheerily. “I use she/her.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Temari,” Ambrose smiled. “I do adore your dress, by the way. The color and those sequins? Absolutely fabulous.”

“Name’s Kankuro,” the eldest of the siblings said with a grin as he extended his hand out to the former social monarch. “Pronouns are he/him.”  Ambrose gave the same sort of response they gave to his sister and complimented him on his facepaint. Gaara didn’t want to greet this odd person, he wanted to be left alone. He knew what their response to him was going to be. At least, he thought he did.

Ambrose looked down and as soon as their steely turquoise eyes met his they went wide and a soft pink dusted their cheeks. In that second or so Gaara noticed every little detail about them he didn’t before; the small, pointed inner corner eyeliner that made their eyes look sharper, the silver sparkles on their eyelids that glittered in the soft purple light of the party, how chubby their cheeks were, and most importantly, the look of intrigue and immediate interest that glimmered in their eyes. He had never found anyone who didn’t instantly seem afraid of him until now, let alone someone as pretty as Ambrose. He found himself nervously extending a hand out to shake theirs as his eyes went wide and his cheeks grew warm, which he pathetically blamed on the heat from the building. Their cherry-red lips hung open for a second before twisting up as their eyes crinkled mirthfully and they bent down a bit, extending a hand out to meet his.

“My my,” they chuckled coyly as they took his hand in theirs. It was warm and soft, but they didn’t take it like they were going to shake it. “To whom might I owe the pleasure, my dear?” they raised his hand to their lips and pressed them to his knuckles softly, giving it the ghost of a kiss as their eyes were locked onto his. He felt the heat in his cheeks grow as he actually sputtered for a moment, unsure of how to react to this gesture.

“G-Gaara,” he stuttered out. “U-Uh, he. They. He/they.”

Their eyebrows went up a little as a few different emotions passed through their eyes, none of which Gaara could really place until they finally settled on acceptance. “Gaara,” they repeated, voice softer than a whisper. “That’s a beautiful name. Much like its owner.”

Gaara felt a tingly, fluttery feeling erupt in his gut. Were these butterflies? “Th-Thanks,” he mumbled. Were they putting some sort of spell on him? Using some jutsu to get him wrapped around their finger? And if they were why didn’t he mind it all that much?

Baki cleared his throat beside the two, his eyes burning holes into Gaara. “Gaara, don’t you think you ought to be kissing her hand, instead of the other way around?”

Ambrose stood up straight and turned to him, an aloof sense of disinterest forming on their face as they ever-so-gently let Gaara’s fingers slip from theirs. “I believe I told you I used they/them pronouns, Baki,” they said cooly. “And, moreso, might I ask why you think the gesture should have come from him and not I?”

“I-I–” Baki began to stutter. “Well– it’s just that– you know, traditionally–”

“I do hope you recognize how foolish it is to criticize someone’s actions based on tradition, sir,” they interrupted his stuttering. “In addition, I strongly encourage you to confront the biases you have that would make you believe such a silly sentiment.”

Gaara swallowed before speaking softly. “You’re very blunt.”

Ambrose turned to back him and reassumed that grin as their eyes began to sparkle again. Why weren’t they afraid of him? “Why, thank you. It’s taken me a long while to learn to be so up-front and unabashed with my beliefs.”

“Being so blatant’s a good way to get yourself killed,” Gaara said simply, trying to get back on his feet.

“I’d rather die honestly than live a lie,” Ambrose chuckled, the sound low and a little husky and completely throwing him back off his game. “How old are you, Gaara?” they asked, tilting their head to the side as they lifted a hand up to twirl one of their long sideburns between their dainty fingers.

“M’Thirteen,” he mumbled shyly. Just like the hair they played with, they had him wrapped around their finger right now.

“Really? When’s your birthday, love?” the pet name sent a shiver down his spine as he stared up at them like a child. It didn’t help his strange predicament that they practically towered above him.

“It’s January 19th,” he answered.

“January?” they asked, twirling their sage green, curled lock between their pretty fingers. Pretty? That’s not right. What on Earth were they doing to him? “Wow, you’re older than me by exactly six months.” Their voice snapped him back to reality, and he shook his head a little.

“It doesn’t seem like it,” he managed to say simply. “You look like you’re fifteen at least.”

“Ohoho, do I?” they laughed. It was clear their attention was undividedly on him now, and he could see his siblings stare at the two with bewildered expressions out of the corners of his eyes. Baki looked absolutely infuriated. “You flatter me so, darling.”

“I’m not trying to.” He really, genuinely wasn’t. Part of him actually wanted to kill this Ambrose right now, and the other part wanted them to keep saying such nice things about him.

“You must be a natural,” they giggled. Gaara swallowed before getting the courage to initiate a bit of conversation himself; why was he doing that?

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your gender?” He almost instantly regretted asking it. Yet still, Ambrose smiled at him and pressed a thoughtful finger to their chin.

“Hmm,” they hummed, the noise sending another bout of those butterflies through his gut. “Last I checked it was several raccoons in a trenchcoat.”

Gaara’s brow furrowed. Did they take him for a fool? Is that why they were acting so strange compared to everyone else?

Ambrose burst into laughter, one of their dainty hands raising to their pretty mouth. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding of course!” they giggled. They straightened up, their hand going down to their hip and resting it there as they shifted their weight comfortably onto one foot. “The correct term is ‘genderfluid.’ Basically, it means my gender is always fluctuating.”

“I’ve never heard of that.” He was trying to sound disinterested, but his curious tone and wide eyes must have betrayed him.

“It’s not as well-known as it ought to be,” they answered with a sigh. “Another crippling side-effect of the rampant transphobia in the ninja world.”

Gaara was taken aback by how brutally honest they were, and it only made one of the butterflies in his gut fly up into his chest and become a flame. He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head and averted his gaze to the side, the heat in his cheeks growing too intense for him to keep looking at their face.

“Awe, no need to be shy, Gaara,” they giggled. The way his name rolled off their tongue and slipped from their lips made him shudder. “Look at me, dear.”

He swallowed lightly and looked back up at them, the heat in his cheeks burning him from the inside out. He didn’t know why he obeyed their command so easily. But, who was he to resist them?

“There we go,” Ambrose grinned. Gaara was completely at their whim, and it looked like they took immense enjoyment in that fact. “There’s that handsome face of yours. You really are gorgeous, you know that?”

“Y-You’re the first to say that,” he mumbled. Ambrose gasped lightly, putting a hand on their chest.

“Is that so?” they asked softly. “You must be joking. Not even once before me?”

He sheepishly shook his head, and Ambrose opened their mouth like they were going to say more before a cracking voice came from behind them.

“You’re seriously not flirting with that creep, are you, Rosie?” Naruto snorted. Gaara instantly felt whatever that odd feeling was dissipate, and suddenly he wanted to go home again. Ambrose’s face changed from that playful, amused expression to one of pure confusion and slight disgust, slowly turning their head to stare at the boy for a moment. Naruto’s expression turned from that snarky, mocking grin to a concerned and even afraid stare.

“W-Why’re you looking at me like that?” he stuttered out. Ambrose turned back to Gaara and politely grinned at him before speaking again. Their voice had no reason or right to send all shivers down his spine.

“Just a moment, my dear,” they told him cheerily before turning back to Naruto, picking one leg up and slipping off their large platform heel.

"W-Woah man, cool it!" he cried, shrinking back as Ambrose held the heel up and shrunk down to about Temari's height.

"I will beat you," they murmured. "Just let me have a little bonding moment, yeah?"

Naruto rolled his eyes as Ambrose slipped the shoe back on. "You're too damn flirtatious for your age," he mumbled. Still, both of them were grinning at each other; maybe they were close.

"So sorry for that interruption, sugar," they chuckled a little awkwardly. "I do hope you're not deterred or uncomfortable, are you?"

And just like that Gaara was a mess again. His face felt hot and his stomach was so fluttery it almost hurt. "M-M'fine," he nodded shyly.

"Good, very good," they grinned. "Say, would you like to sit with me? You look like you're about to fall."

He didn't know how to respond; did he? Well, yes, he did, but that was the problem! He wasn't supposed to want to! Did he just want to kill them especially badly? 

Thankfully he didn't have to answer because the second he opened his mouth to respond the music scratches to a halt as a voice crackled over the intercom saying something about needing everyone to gather at the stage that had been set up on the north side of the building.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Ambrose mumbled. They took a breath before turning back to him and speaking again. "It seems as though the forces of fate are not on our side tonight, my darling," they said with a sad chuckle. "I'll see around, Gaara."

"S-See you around," he nodded, awkwardly lifting a hand up to wave as the crowds of partygoers collectively got up and flooded around them.

Ambrose waved to him as he felt one of his siblings pull him away. He waved back, a little mesmerized by how strong and clear they stood against the waves of blurry faces. 

"Bye," he mumbled, taking one last look at their tall and warm figure before being forced to look away and go with the rest of the flood of people.

"Dude," Kankuro hissed beside him. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Gaara asked him, keeping his eyes ahead. The ghost of Ambrose's form and the whispers of their voice still played in his ears.

"That!" his brother whisper-yelled, pointing back behind them. "That whole thing with Ambrose?!"

"We were waving our hands in your peripherals to try and get your attention," Temari whispered on his other side. "You were out of it! Completely unresponsive!"

"Oh," he mumbled, only half listening to what she had to say. "Sorry, I guess."

That odd, warm, fluttery feeling wouldn't leave his gut and his thoughts refused to stray from the ex-princess – ex prince? – oh, either would work, he supposed.

Had they put a spell or jutsu on him? Was this all some elaborate plan to lure him into a trap? And why was he okay with it all? 

[ioaezz]

CREGAN STARK ♱ 𝒯HE ℰND

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ KING VISERYS HOSTS a tourney and feast after the birth of his seventh grandchild, though you’d rather hide yourself in your books, dreaming of your own prince charming. fortunately for you he comes in the form of a muscular, brooding northerner named cregan stark.

𝒫AIRING. . . cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

𝒲ORDCOUNT. . . 11.4 k

𝒢ENRE. . . lots of romance, fluff, angsty ending, no dance of the dragon au, love at first sight, kinda grumpy x sunshine but not really.

𝒲ARNINGS. . . profanity, ooc cregan?, unrealistic relationships, death in childbirth, mention of decapitation, targcest (not reader tho), reader has white hair and violet eyes but her father isn’t explicitly described, pregnancy, nudity, birth, mention of sex, blood, aegon, not proofread, uhhh i think that’s it??

ℐOAEZZ. . . this has been in my drafts for a while but i was too lazy to publish it… anyways it was supposed to be a small drabble but turned out much longer than i had expected.

ℬooks had always been your form of escapism. The fairytales kept the harsh reality off your mind even if for only a couple of hours. Your brothers never understood your love for it as they preferred to fly around on their dragons. Your mother found this passion of yours endearing and wasn't surprised to discover that you weren't as opposed to marriage as she had been when she was younger.

The tales in your books spoke of true love. Both passionate and gentle, which you couldn't help but crave to have one day. Although the couples that surrounded you weren't as sincere as you would have liked for yourself, you still held out some hope that you would find your own Prince Charming.

He came in the form of Lord Cregan Stark. A brooding, muscular man from the North who hadn't even given marriage a thought until his council forced it upon him. He needed heirs they had said and so with much protest, he began scouring for a wife that could take on the title 'Lady of Winterfell'. He had never dared to even consider you, who was the princess of the realm, believing that both your status and blood would not be fit for the brutal winters in the North.

Yet when he met you for the very first time at a tournament in King's Landing to celebrate the birth of Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena's second child, he couldn't imagine having anyone else as his wife. He could still vividly remember the way your pastel pink dress hugged your form as you sat beside your younger brothers, a book in your grasp as you entirely ignored the cries of a knight who had been decapitated. As much as he tried, he was unable to rip his eyes off you as a remote smile graced your lips at something that must have occurred in your book.

During the feast that followed you were seated at the extensive table in the front, between your uncle Aemond and brother Jacaerys as some form of barrier to separate the Greens from the Blacks. Music was played beautifully and people danced joyfully, yet you remained invested in the happenings of your book. Cregan cast a look at the Maester he had brought with him before moving to stand. The people around him watched on in curiosity, the Lord of Winterfell didn't exactly seem like the dancing type. He made his way towards your table, bowing his head at the King and Queen as well as to your mother, who was just as inquisitive as everyone else.

He shifted to stand in front of you, not that you noticed as you turned another page of your book. Cregan didn't mind your oblivion, waiting patiently for you to notice him which could have taken much longer if not for Prince Daemon who nudged you softly. You looked up at your step-father with questioning eyes before turning to face the Lord who your father motioned to. A blush spread across your face as you ultimately caught sight of the handsome man in front of you who watched on in amusement.

“I apologize for not noticing you earlier Lord Stark,” your voice was sweeter than any honey he had ever tasted, which made his heart throb beneath the layers of fur. “It is I who must apologize for distracting you, princess. I take it is an entertaining story you were reading?” the words caused Aemond to scoff as he quietly listened on but neither of you took notice of it.

Your eyes shone brightly at the mention of your book, exhilarated at the prospect of sharing something so dear to you, “it certainly is one of my preferred books. I could lend it to you if you wish?” Your offer entertained Cregan as he'd never even considered reading something that hadn't been for studies, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Perhaps you could tell me more about it whilst we share a dance,” his offer was sly, Rhaenyra had to give it to him, but she was pleased as long as her daughter was. Heat rose to your cheeks as you shyly nodded, not used to such kind Lords who were truly interested in you. You rose to your feet, placing your beloved book on your chair before stepping around the table. He offered his arm which you gratefully took only to be stunned by his muscles which were hidden underneath the layers of clothing. Cregan had quickly taken notice of your astonishment and felt a sense of satisfaction fill him as his lips scarcely tugged upwards.

He led you towards the dance floor as people got out of your way, but your gaze remained on the man beside you. His dark eyes met your violet ones, which sent your heart racing as you offered him a nervous smile. You fell into the rhythm of the music, dancing with such a grace that left Cregan speechless, but he had to snap out of his daze if he wished to impress you.

“I like your accent,” the words escaped your lips so easily which startled him. His eyes dilated, his eyebrow raised as a rare grin rose on his handsome face. “Thank you, princess. I find yours entrancing as well,” his low voice sent flutters through your stomach as you smiled at him. “I must admit, I have never seen anyone so enraptured by a mere book.” The excitement rose in you once more at the turn in conversation, speaking with much vigor, which Cregan appreciated more than anything.

Your evening was spent with the Warden of the North, never straying too far from him as conversation flew between you, never faltering. Your family had witnessed this as well, deeming it unusual behavior from you but not unwelcome. After all, it had been time for you to get married, which Rhaenyra attempted to put off for as long as possible in the hopes that you would find a husband on your own.

“Is this Cregan Stark still available?” Your mother questioned as the King glanced at his wife with much excitement, which she didn't reciprocate.

“Yes, he has yet to marry. I heard he is in search of a wife,” Viserys expressed his elation effortlessly which made his eldest son envious of his niece as the King hadn't even been half as delighted during his marriage, not even for the birth of his grandchildren. The following day most Lords and Ladies began returning towards their own regions, which included Cregan Stark.

The man felt disappointment within him that he would be parting from you so soon, but you had promised him the evening before to come bid him farewell in the morning. A profound frown was etched upon his face, which perished at the sight of you approaching him in a simple yet exquisite red dress. The rather sad expression you wore tugged at his heartstrings as he took quick steps to reach you. His hands enveloped your soft ones, and he pressed a gentle kiss on them which made you smile bashfully.

“I shall miss our banter, Lord Stark,” you mumbled, heart heavy, but the man attempted to soothe you despite his own heartache. “There are no words to describe how much I will as well my princess.” A reassuring smile tugged at his lips, streaks of his hair flying around at a sudden soft breeze of wind. Your eyes softened, and you glanced around to make sure there were no eyes pointed towards you before quickly engulfing him in a hug that took him by surprise. While he knew it would be frowned upon, he couldn't resist wrapping his arms around you to relish in your touch.

You stayed like that for a couple more moments before you had to let go. However before you got another chance to say anything, a hand abruptly fell upon your shoulder. You jolted slightly, taken by surprise only to relax once you saw it was your father. Cregan narrowed his eyes at the sight of the Rogue Prince but respectfully bowed his head, which amused Daemon.

“The King has requested your presence,” his words were laced with what you could only call mirth as Cregan furrowed his brows in puzzlement but nodded nonetheless. The two men walked beside one another, their presence demanding respect, as you were left to follow them with a much softer grace.

The three of you entered the throne hall where your grandsire was seated, the Queen by his side whilst your mother stood on his left with a reassuring smile on her face. "Your Grace," Cregan bowed deeply, his form tense as he awaited what Viserys had wished to discuss.

"I propose a betrothal," the words were straightforward and surprised the both of you. Your fingers clenched behind your back as you remained impassive, keeping your shoulders wide and chin high, "my daughter has brought the notion to my attention to betroth you to my firstborn granddaughter, princess Y/n Velaryon as I heard you were in search for a wife." Your eyes widened and jaw slackened as you glanced between your family who were watching you with a keen eye. You then turned your gaze towards Cregan who met your eyes with much vigor. His eyes were questioning whether you wished for this as well and at the quirk of the corners of your mouth he smiled in return, relief falling upon him as he realised you would remain by his side.

"I heartily agree with this proposal," his voice was low yet clear, and it sent shivers down your spine as you watched your betrothed with adoration despite only knowing him for a day.

The king smiled widely, "This is absolutely wonderful news!" He cheered loudly. Alicent cast her gaze down, a trembling sigh leaving her lips as she thought about what this meant, "Though it does bring us to the complication of agreements." Cregan dutifully nodded his head as a thoughtful look appeared on his face while you watched on in worry that he might retract his previous statement due to you being Rhaenyra's heir.

"As Princess Y/n is Princess Rhaenyra's heir she shall inherit the throne one day, and you will have to become her King-consort," Cregan had realised this as well and nodded along, figuring it would be long from now that this would happen, and he would have an heir of his own to become Warden of the North, "Your firstborn child will be set to inherit the Iron Throne and your second-born will inherit Winterfell."

Your breath hitched as you awaited Cregan's reply, hoping he would agree, "I see no issue with this, your grace," a wide smile spread across your face. Your feet itched to move closer to your betrothed who couldn't stand to be away from you either, but he had a final proposition to make, "Though I have one request." Your mother raised her brow in anticipation, wondering what he might have to say, while your grandsire nodded.

"I wish for the wedding to take place in Winterfell, in the way of the Old Gods," Alicent was quick to protest but Viserys hushed her as he pondered about it. He cast a glance at his daughter who didn't seem to be against it, she knew her daughter wasn't exceptionally religious.

"Very well, you shall travel back to Winterfell and within six moons we will follow for the marriage," the King agreed. Cregan nodded, bowing a final time before turning to leave with a pleased expression on his face. On his way out, he intertwined his hand with yours which sent your heart fluttering as you followed him outside.

"I am sorry you didn't have a say in this-" but before Cregan could finish his sentence, you wrapped your arms around his neck, much more intimate than the modest hug that you had shared earlier. "Do not apologise. I could not have been happier with this betrothal," you mumbled into his ear, his face pressed into your neck as he smiled widely, which was so unlike his usual brooding expression.

The months passed by far too slowly in your opinion. Winter washed over, and your grandfather ensured that supplies were sent to Winterfell so they could survive this winter more easily. Some on the council had protested as they had never done such a thing before, but the King declared it final as Winterfell was about to become your home. Cregan was grateful for the supplies which greatly helped his people, but a lingering bitterness remained at the fact that so many lives could have been spared if the King had done this sooner.

The preparations for your wedding were larger than the one of your uncle and aunt, the entire realm was eager for the marriage of the woman that would become their Queen one day. The people in the North were delighted to be able to host such an extensive event, as it took their minds off the dreary weather. The wedding would take place in the middle of the summer during the warmest days of the North, but snow would still cover everything in sight.

You exchanged letters with Cregan through ravens, who was always delighted to receive them as you told him everything that had happened since your last letter. It took the young Lord a while to come up with his own anecdotes as he was a man of few words, but he made an effort for you as he knew how much joy the letters brought you. He had given you the charge of most things like flower arrangements, cake, and guests as he wished for you to have your dream wedding like within your stories while he handled the more tedious aspects.

When the week of the wedding finally approached you couldn't wipe the smile off your face, much to your family's pleasure. They listened on and on about your dear Cregan who had sent you new books. Your brothers had the tendency to whine about it, but your stepsisters quickly shut them up with a kick to the shin as they admired how you radiated contentment.

By the time you and your family would be departing from Dragonstone on dragon back, most of the Kingdom had already reached Winterfell. They stayed in the most luxurious inns the North had to offer, which wasn't quite a lot while suffering from the cold.

You climbed upon Vermithor, who seemed glad to see you, and you could only pray he wouldn't mind the cold too much. You and your family left Dragonstone together, everyone flying on their respective dragon, joyful to be spending time together before you would be separated from them. Your uncles and aunt had wished to travel by dragon as well, even willing to fly with your family, but their mother had refused, ordering them to ride in the carriage with her and their father.

It took you a couple of days to reach Winterfell and you had to admit it was colder than you had expected, but you didn't mind it as much as Lucerys who was shaking in his boots. You admired the white snow that covered every surface when people started shouting from beneath, announcing your presence. Cregan stood at the clearing they had prepared for the dragons with his half-sister somewhere behind him, watching on in amazement as the large creatures landed.

His eyes were filled with marvel as he saw the different sizes and colors of the dragons, recalling all the things you wrote about your beloved Vermithor. His gaze searched for you atop your dragon and once he finally found you his heart leaped in his throat, his hands itching to touch you after such a long time apart. Caraxes screeched loudly as people all flocked around, in an attempt to see their future Lady for the first time. Daemon was the first one to descend his dragon, followed by Rhaenyra and Rhaenys.

Lucerys all but clumsily fell off Arrax, his teeth chattering as Rhaena caught him with a hearty laugh after having climbed off Meleys. You chuckled at the sight, patting Vermithor as he attempted to acclimatize to the cold weather. He bowed down for you to descend him and Cregan's breath was caught in his throat as he all but wished to wrap you within his arms, but he knew better than to approach you with so many dragons around. Once you noticed your betrothed, a smile appeared on your face, and you dismissed the whispers around you as the people of Winterfell gawked at you.

Although everything within you screamed to jump into his arms as you had yearned to for months, you stepped closer to your family as it was your duty. "My princess," Cregan's eyes were filled with adoration, an uncommon sight for the people around him as Sara had to contain a very unladylike snort. Your eyes shimmered with what most people could only describe as tenderness as you gazed upon your betrothed. He greeted your family members respectfully and much to your delight they seemed to accept him quicker than you would have thought. It wasn't too far-fetched as they knew of how an honorable man he truly was and your continuous tales of how sweet he was certainly helped to get used to the thought of accepting him as your husband.

He stretched out his arm which you took happily, glad to hold him once more before he led you towards the hall where a feast would be held. Your grandfather and remaining family had shown up as well as the most notorious Lords such as Jason and Tyland Lannister and Otto Hightower. You took a seat at the head of the table, beside your betrothed with your cousin Baela on your other side as she squeezed your hand in support, a giddy smile on her face.

The meal was enjoyable as you conversed with Cregan and his half-sister, already quickly falling in place within the North. Your uncle Aegon had been drowning himself in his cups and once the time came for toasts you nervously fiddled with your rings. Cregan instantly took notice of this and encased them within his own calloused ones, you moved to sit closer to him, which he didn't oppose to. He gave you a loving smile that felt way more intimate than you had expected.

Viserys moved to stand, his cup raised as the table turned quiet, "A tribute to my dear granddaughter who is to be married to the honorable Cregan Stark. I wish your marriage good prosperity and demand that you visit your poor grandsire," he jested lightly, and a smile cracked on your face as you nodded at him, stroking your betrothed's hand underneath the table.

He placed a brisk kiss on your delicate hand before standing as well raising his glass, "Thank you, your Grace. I am incredibly honored to be the husband of my princess Y/n and shall vie to appease her every wish during our marriage. To my princess Y/n." Everyone at the table took a sip of their beverage, and you blushed under Cregan's gaze as a teasing grin tugged at his lips, his hand resting on your thigh.

"I wish to raise my cup to my cousin, princess Y/n," Baela declared. She glanced towards you, her eyes sparkling underneath the fires that illuminated the room before she spoke, "Although we haven't grown up together as children, I feel as though we are sisters. She has been the greatest comfort of mine when my late mother passed, and I believe there is not a finer woman in the Seven Kingdoms. To princess Y/n," you took a sip from your goblet, sending your cousin an appreciative look.

Sara hesitated for a second, as she technically wasn't supposed to be at the feast with her being commonly known as a bastard but upon seeing your reassuring smile she gathered the courage to stand, "I would like to toast to my half-brother, Lord Cregan," your betrothed seemed visibly surprised but remained quiet as he listened to what she had to say. "As many of you may know, he is an honorable man. Stern and oftentimes grim as he fulfills his duties to take care of his people. Though ever since he met princess Y/n all those moons ago, he has become more loving, and I have no doubt in mind that she has melted the cold ice that surrounded his heart, which I heartily thank her for."

You smiled widely at her words, turning to look at Cregan who was already watching you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. His face was free of any creases, an accomplishment in itself, and the warmth surrounding him seemed so inviting as you wished to be buried within his arms. At that moment, you conceded that you had truly found your own fairy tale. The feeling within you couldn't be described with mere words despite your wide vocabulary. The way that your beat for him was almost unorthodox, and you thought that if you could, you would truly have given the organ to him if he wished so.

"I raise my cup to my niece."

The words snapped you out of your daze as dread filled your senses. You quickly turned towards your uncle, Aegon who was shakily standing with the help of his mother after she had attempted to silence him. Your hand tightened around Cregan, the peaceful expression that graced his face long gone as he worried about you. He had heard rumors about your drunken uncle who bedded girls that weren't willing and ignored his poor sister-wife.

Rhaenyra let out a deep sigh, bringing a hand to rub her temple while Jace seethed from beside her. "I reminisce our years together with much fondness," he slurred, a hazy grin on his face as he gazed upon you. Cregan glared at him but remained silent, "I recall the day your mother had proposed our betrothal, and I was sad to learn that we would not be married. After all, I am sure that you will please your husband in various aspects though know that I am always ready to please you as well-" Alicent hissed at him, pulling him down while Viserys slammed his hand into the table angrily.

"Aegon!" You were absolutely mortified and Cregan had stood up, a vicious storm behind his eyes as he towered over the table. Your hand quickly reached for him, caressing his skin softly as you attempted to calm him with loving words. "It is alright, my love. Do not worry about me," you whispered to him, brushing his hair behind his ear. The remaining part of the meal went by smoothly though Cregan kept a close eye on your uncle and once the time came to return to your chambers he made sure no maids were anywhere near Aegon.

He walked you back to your chamber, placing a kiss on your cheek before you went to sleep. Come morn you awakened with much jitters, not having slept much as it was the morning of your wedding. Maids were rushing around you, opening the curtains to let the sun in, which, according to one of them was a sign of promising marriage. Your mother had entered your chamber not long after, expressing her wish to dress you herself, and you agreed with a smile.

You were sitting in a plush chair, already donning a deep red colored dress with black embroidered flowers. The sleeves dangled from your hands that rested upon the armrest while your mother stood behind you with her fingers in your hair, plaiting your silver hair delicately. You cast a glance towards the cloak that bore the Velaryon sigil, before returning your gaze to your reflection with a trembling sigh.

"Do not worry, sweet girl," your mother sent you a warm smile which always managed to soothe you whenever you were anxious. Her fingers skillfully braided the last loose strands, revealing an intricate Targaryen hairstyle that would represent your heritage partly. "Though I'm delighted to be marrying Cregan, I am sad that I will not see you as much mother," the words tumbled from your lips, so quiet that Rhaenyra had barely heard them. She let go of your hair, moving to stand in front of you before placing a warm hand on your cheek. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she straightened your brows gently.

"We will visit as shall you," she promised, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead as you closed your eyes. A knock echoed across the room, and you called for them to enter, only to reveal Jace, who would be the one to give you away. Since your father was dead, that duty passed onto him. "It is time," he declared, closing the door behind him as he decided to wait aside with a nod from Rhaenyra.

She offered you another motherly smile that you shakily returned before pulling yourself from the comfortable chair. The sleeves of your dress slipped into place as you smoothed the gown of any creases. You straightened as you noticed your mother holding the cloak you were to wear during the ceremony. She gently placed it upon your shoulders as its warmth engulfed you.

“You look beautiful,” the words lingered in your mind, and you gave your reflection one last glance before gradually turning to walk towards Jace. Your brother smiled at you, and you reciprocated the sentiment, wrapping your arm around his as he escorted you outside. The streets were barren as everyone had assembled by the Weirwood tree where the ceremony would take place. Your steps synchronized with your brother's while your mother had gone ahead.

“How are you feeling?” The inquiry made you look up from your feet, opening your mouth, yet no words came out, “Do not attempt to fool me, sister,” he grinned which loosened you up a bit. “I am happy, truly. I am a bit nervous, but I suppose anyone would be,” she hummed.

“Do you have any regrets about this union? If so, I will not hesitate to take you back to Dragonstone,” the statement brought a laugh out of you as you glanced at your brother. “I appreciate the offer but no, thank you.”

The walk had come to an end as you saw the mass of people awaiting your arrival. The two of you halted to let you ready yourself as Jace placed a kiss on the crown of your head. With a nod, you resumed the trek and people quieted down once they caught sight of you.

Cregan felt as though he might cry as he looked upon you.

You looked utterly heavenly. He could stare at you for hours on end without tiring of the sight, and suddenly the amount of people didn't matter anymore. The agonizing months he waited for you were all worth it. The unhurried steps you took towards him couldn't be any slower as he longed to hold you once more, to protect you from any harm that the world had to offer.

Your hand tightened around Jace's arm as you gazed at Cregan and you knew that you would never regret being with him. His dark hair was in his usual manner, but it fit him perfectly, and you longed to touch it. Once you reached the heart tree, you could only look at Cregan fearing that if you'd tear your eyes off him, you'll perish into a heap of nothingness.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Cregan had chosen his closest friend Lord Cerwyn as the officiator since he didn't have any male family left. “Y/n, of the House Velaryon and Targaryen, princess of the realm and heir to the Iron Throne, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Jace spoke the words he had been rehearsing the entire week faultlessly, which made a sense of pride fill you. Cregan stepped forward, his shoulders broad as he looked down at you, eyes filled with adoration, “Cregan, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?”

If Daemon were to be truly honest he found the ceremony a bit bizarre but kept his mouth shut as he shot a glance at his wife who was watching on with watery eyes. “Jacaerys, of the House Velaryon and Targaryen, who is her brother.”

“Princess Y/n, do you take this man?” Your eyes spoke for themselves, and you didn't hesitate to speak the following words, “I take this man.” Cregan repressed the wide smile from spreading across his face, but you could simply tell how joyful he was by the shimmering in his darkened eyes. You gently unwind your arm from your brother's as you take a step forward, joining hands with Cregan who softly caressed your skin.

You two turn towards the Weirwood tree before kneeling. Your knee dug into the cold snow, and your skin lit on fire as you truly realised you were to be with your beloved Cregan for the rest of your days. You bowed your head as a token of submission, you think of a prayer but decided to keep it simple since you were still affiliated with the Valyrian believe. Prayers about the safety of your family were the first ones that came to mind, which were followed by prayers of a good marriage with healthy children. When time came you rose, not bothering to wipe the snow off your knees as you turned to face Cregan.

His hands move towards your shoulder, removing the cloak that held the Velaryon sigil before handing it to your brother who stood not too far from you. A shiver ran through your body at the loss of warmth, but it was quickly quelled by the fur coat that bore the sigil of House Stark. A deep breath escaped your tinted lips which caught Cregan's attention. His fingers rested under your chin as he tilted your face up gently before leaning down to capture your lips, sealing your life together.

Your fingers were nimbly holding his cloak, attempting to keep it as modest as possible. His lips were dry but soft, he breathed life into you as his nose pressed into your cheek. You wished to remain like this until your last days but retracted once you heard cheers from the crowd. When you separated, you could only describe yourself as breathless despite it being a timid kiss. The corners of Cregan's lips, which you had just kissed, tilted upwards at the sight of your mild pants. He glanced up at the abundance of people before returning his gaze to you with a teasing glint in his eyes. You furrowed your brows, a question hanging on the tip of your tongue, but before you ever got to ask anything he leaned down to carry you.

Your eyes widened as you hung in his arms, your knees dangling from his arm while his other one supported your back. Your arms had automatically wrapped around his neck, which moved your faces closer. His eyes held a warmth that never ceased around you as he looked up at you. “Have I told you yet how beautiful you look?” His brow raised as a teasing smirk graced his pretty features.

You wordlessly shook your head, still in some after-shock which only made him chuckle, “We are surrounded by so much beauty but nothing could ever compare to you.” The words made you giggle softly, hiding your face in the furs of his cloak in an attempt to hide your growing blush. Cregan couldn't express the pure love he held for you in that simple moment, so he resorted to placing a soft kiss to the side of your face.

“Are you two going to stay here forever?” Baela teased after most guests had moved towards the hall where a feast would be held. Lucerys was one of the first people to leave, nearly running to escape the harsh wind outside. Your husband nodded before carefully carrying you back towards your home.

The feast was a joyous event, spent by your family's side and opening gifts. You let out a gasp at the sight of a stack of books that were presented by Lady Arryn. “I do hope you enjoy these books that we had shipped from Dorne. They differ from ours greatly, so I reckoned that you have yet to read tales like these,” you thanked the woman earnestly, already reaching for one to show to your husband who nodded along, listening with much pleasure to the sound of your voice.

“I have a gift for you as well, my love,” he announced which made you perk up in your seat beside him. Sara quickly nodded, hurrying off to fetch your supposed gift as you questioned Cregan insistently which made him chuckle while caressing your hair gently. Your sister-in-law returned not long after, and the sight had you jumping out of your seat to meet her halfway. Your husband quickly followed, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he eyed your reaction carefully.

A tiny direwolf was placed into your arms that made you coo softly. You looked up at Cregan, your eyes sparkling with gratitude, before you leaned up to place a kiss on his lips. “Cregan, thank you so much. I wish I could give you a dragon in return, but unfortunately…" you trailed off with a sheepish smile which made him chuckle, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder while looking down at the white wolf in your arms. The animal had quickly settled in your arms, content with the warmth you provided.

“Have you decided on its name yet?” He inquired as his breath tickled your skin in a delightful manner. You pondered for a moment, “Perhaps I should call him Laenor.” Cregan offered you a soft smile, kissing your cheek as a form of comfort.

“I see you have completely integrated already, dear cousin,” Rhaena jested, glancing at the direwolf curiously, which made you giggle. “I think it is time we retreat to our chamber, do you not Lady-wife?” Cregan's voice was low as he whispered the words into your ear, eager to get away from everyone to be with you in solitude. You blinked owlishly, nodding slowly before glancing back at your parents, who were already watching you with tender smiles. You returned the gesture, waving as best as you could with your direwolf in your arms before moving to leave with your husband.

The halls were mainly empty sans for the maids and guards, but you didn't pay them any mind as Cregan led you towards your shared chambers. Once you entered the large room you noticed that the fireplace had been lit in advance, but you didn't get the chance to explore your new apartments as Cregan tugged you towards the bed. You quickly paused to gently place Laenor on the rug that was placed in front of the hearth before returning to your husband's side. He was sitting on the side of the extensive bed that was piled with furs and covers which you already knew would feel heavenly.

You stood in front of your husband as he placed his hands on your waist before he lifted you to sit on his lap with your legs thrown on either side of him. “I could get used to this sight,” he chuckled, his hands moving across your back as you leaned down with a grin, “could you now, Lord-husband?”

He hummed, nose pressed against your neck as he placed kisses anywhere he could reach. A deep sigh left your nose as you closed your eyes, leaning your head back to give him more space to work with, which made him chuckle. Your fingers tangled between his hair as you had wished to do all day. Suddenly, you felt him scrape his teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck which nearly made you moan.

Your grip on his hair tightened, a resonant groan escaping his lips before he gently twisted for you to lay on the bed with him hovering above you. He gazed intensely into your eyes before leaning up to get rid of the clothing that was donned upon his upper body. Your fingers traced the muscles on his stomach softly before you leaned up to place kisses against his chest. “I cannot take this torture any longer, my love. I must know whether you want this as much as I do?” He gripped your head firmly, resting his forehead on yours while his nose bumped into yours.

“I do Cregan,” you swore, he let go of any restraint that he had left in him and passionately pressed his lips against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. A low moan escaped his lips, right into your mouth as you accidentally pressed your knee against his bulge that had formed beneath the layer of clothing.

And that night you discovered that there was no sound on earth that you loved more than his.

Years had flown by, and you remained with your husband, the love you two shared for one another never diminished. While you enjoyed your life greatly, you couldn't say that it was all easy. The winters were harsh, and you missed your family incredibly as you only managed to visit one another a handful of times.

The thing that was bothering you the most though was the fact that you still hadn't become pregnant. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying, as you couldn't remember a time when you hadn't been bedded for more than three days. Cregan wasn't too bothered by it, but you could tell that it was something that some people gossiped about. After all, you had to have at the very least two children, one for you as heir and one for Cregan. Your husband insisted that it didn't matter and that he was happy with you either way, but you couldn't stop the doubt from seeping in, especially not with the council hovering around you every second of the day.

“Perhaps she is infertile,” the Maester had suggested, which sent them into an uproar, asking what of the heir that was needed. Cregan quickly silenced them by slamming his fists into the table, a seething expression on his face as he defended his wife. “You shall not discuss this matter as if it involves any of you. You asked me to marry three years ago, and I did now stay out of my marriage.” This quickly shut their mouths, but it didn't manage to stop the whispers from spreading. While most didn't mean any harm, it didn't help with you to quell your worries as you sat in the bath motionlessly.

“My love?” Cregan called from the entrance, entering upon hearing your hum. His expression softened at the sight of your discouraged form, ridding himself of his clothes to join you. You moved forward so he could settle behind you before leaning back into his firm chest. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist whilst the other played with your silver hair lovingly. You simply chose to relish in the affections he provided you with.

“Do not worry, my love,” he mumbled, his words echoing in the empty room as you mindlessly nodded with your head resting on his shoulder. “I promise you I will put a child into you if that is what you truly wish for,” he swore, willing to do anything to please you, which made you smile gently. Your eyes sparkled with the pure adoration you held for your husband.

“I love you Cregan,” the usually solemn man softened, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek before returning the sentiment, “I love you as well, princess.” Your eyes flickered to meet his before you moved to sit in his lap, turning to face him while he watched with a raised brow.

As he had promised that night, you were pregnant, much to your elation.

The first thing you did when you found out was rush towards the dining hall where Cregan was eating, Laenor following you swiftly. Your husband looked up at the sound of your pants and fastened footsteps, putting his fork down as he slid his chair back. You all but leaped into his arms, a wide smile gracing your features as he watched on in disarray, but before he got the chance to question your odd behavior you cut him off.

“I am with child,” the words made him widen his eyes as he was truly shocked for once in his life, before a giant smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling from joy as he threw his arms around you. He got up from his chair, holding you up with ease as he kissed you with much vigor. You smiled into the kiss, tears of bliss slid down your cheeks that transferred onto his face, not that he minded.

Cregan gently placed you back down to your feet, his hand immediately reaching for your stomach, even though there wasn't anything visible yet. “Aye, I promised you didn't I,” he grinned which made you roll your eyes before you leaned up to place another kiss on his lips.

That evening you wrote to your family, joyful to announce the news of your pregnancy, while Cregan spread the word to his council and friends. You truly couldn't be happier at that moment. Once news of your pregnancy reached both King's Landing and Dragonstone your mother insisted on coming, wishing to be there for the birth of her first grandchild. You and Cregan were glad to welcome her back, along with Jacaerys and Baela who had wanted to come as well. Daemon had expressed his wish to be there with you, but someone had to stay back on Dragonstone. Lucerys had preferred to stay home as well as he couldn't stand the cold and Rhaena chose to remain by her betrothed's side, but they made you promise to visit with your child as soon as you recovered.

At first, the pregnancy went by fine, you had expected the morning sickness as your mother had described. It was only after the first three months that your bump finally began to show, much to Cregan's delight. He had often found his place directly behind you with his hands resting on your stomach, to protect you and your unborn child from any harm.

Though after the first trimester had passed, had you begun to feel worse. You were frequently challenged by abdominal pains and high temperatures which baffled your mother as she had never gotten such symptoms so early on which in turn sent Cregan spiraling up to the point that you were appointed to bed six months into your pregnancy. The Maester had claimed that everything was fine, that you were simply having slightly different symptoms than most women, but it didn't quell your family's concerns.

It was around the seventh month that Rhaenyra, Baela, and Jacaerys remained permanently glued to your side as you suffered the painful aches. They wished to assist you ease the pain in any way they could but once you passed the safe amount of Milk of the Poppy, you couldn't take any other medicine if you did not want to harm your child. Jacaerys had pressed on, stating that it was better that you took the medicine, but you refused which frustrated Cregan. Your husband had desired to be by your side as much as your family members, but he still had to rule over Winterfell.

Your water broke a month too early. You had been lying in front of the hearth on the sofa with Laenor resting his head on your legs when the contractions started. A cry left your lips, quickly alerting your mother who was sitting not too far from you while embroidering a blanket for her future grandchild. She shot up, her eyes furrowed as she lifted your dress only to see dried blood coating it.

Her eyes widened in terror, glancing over to Baela and Jace, “Call for the midwives and Cregan! Y/n has started her labors!” She then shooed your direwolf away, which made him scowl, but he listened when you softly ordered him to make place for your mother. Jace nodded, his eyes broad in panic before rushing outside while Baela hurried to Rhaenyra's side as they attempted to help you sit up properly. “How can this be? She is supposed to give birth in one moon!” Rhaenyra couldn't find a reply as she attempted to hush your worries.

“It seems that she has started her early labor,” the older woman muttered, caressing your cheek comfortingly as sweat started to form on your forehead. “Where the fuck is Jace?” Baela hissed, already sitting beside you to hold you tightly.

The prince was running around, much to the confusion of the people around him, but he couldn't register anything as he searched for your husband. He had already called for a maid to get the midwives before starting his search for the Lord of Winterfell. Eventually, he managed to find the solemn man outside, training knights in the courtyard with his sword. “Lord Stark!” Jace's shouts startled the surrounding men, but he set his sights on your husband, who watched on in confusion as your brother rushed towards him.

“Prince Jacaerys what-” “Y/n has started her labors!” Cregan's eyes widened as his breath hitched. He didn't waste a second as he pushed past his brother-in-law, running quickly to reach your side faster. When he burst into the room, he noticed that you had been moved towards your shared bed while midwives were scurrying around. Your mother was seated by your side, attempting to calm you while Baela was arguing with the Maester for some Gods-forsaken reason.

Cregan discarded his cloak and sword on the rug, kneeling by your bedside, while you looked up at him with a fatigued smile. “You came,” the words came out more hoarse than you had wanted, but your husband simply brushed some straying hairs from your sticky forehead, placing a quick kiss on the side of your head. “Of course I came,” his eyes were drowning in concern as he looked around, trying to find an answer as to why you were forced to give birth so early on.

He clasped his hand around yours, squeezing it tightly to give you some form of comfort. Jace had returned as well by now and decided to join the argument between Baela and the Maester despite not having a clue what it was about. A chuckle left you at the sight before a pained whine escaped your lips. Cregan grabbed a piece of cloth, moistening it before gently dabbing it on your face, only hoping that it relieved you in some kind of way.

Hours were spent that way and no one had wanted to leave your side, refusing when the Maester had said it could take a couple of hours, even days at most. Cregan had simply snapped at him, ignoring the ache in his knees as he remained seated by your side. During those hours, you had changed positions numerous times, but eventually, you returned to rest on your back once the substantial pain had started.

Your breathe fastened even more than it already had, and your grip on Cregan tightened. Your eyes turned towards your mother as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a while, “I need to push.” The words sent the room into a frenzy as midwives positioned themselves between your legs.

“You have to hold back, Princess!” One of them called, to which you let out a loud groan. “Everything will be fine, my love. You can do this,” your husband mumbled. Tears left your eyes as you prayed for this pain to end already. “Have you thought of names yet?” Baela questioned in an attempt to distract you for a while longer. You glanced at your husband, and he nodded reassuringly before you turned back to face your cousin with a wavering smile, “Rhaenor for a boy and Daenara for a girl.”

“A Targaryen name?” Rhaenyra smiled warmly as Cregan nodded, “We thought it would only be appropriate for the future heir.” Your family sat around you which warmed your heart, but the feeling quickly vanished at a particularly agonizing contraction.

“Push!” The midwife called, your hand tightened around Cregan's as you screamed out. It seemed like there would never be an end to it as the cries ripped from your throat. “You are doing incredible, sweet girl,” Rhaenyra tried, but you completely ignored her as you sobbed. “Get it out! Fuck!” Your nails sunk into Cregan's hand, but he remained steady as he whispered sweet words into your ear. You would have thought that after almost an hour of endless screaming your voice would have become hoarse, but it seemed like it only turned louder.

“I can see the head!” Baela was assisting the midwife as you wailed. “Just get it fucking out of me!” You shouted angrily and with one last push, the baby fell into your cousin's awaiting arms. “You did. You've done so well, my love,” Cregan placed kisses upon your sweaty forehead as you let a weak smile appear on your face. Leaning into your husband's arms while Baela helped the midwives clean your baby.

“I am so proud of you, sweet girl,” your mother grasped your hand softly, and you nodded thankfully at her, choosing to remain in Cregan's muscular arms. “It is a boy, sister,” Jace announced with much excitement, as a wide smile appeared on your face. Cregan couldn't contain his delight as he pressed yet another kiss against your lips. “Rhaenor,” you mumbled already wishing to hold your son when a familiar pain abruptly hit you again.

You threw your head back against your husband's chest as a cry left your lips. Rhaenyra immediately jumped up while the midwife attempted to reassure you all by clarifying that it was most likely the placenta, but you shook your head. “I feel like I must push again,” you managed to get out before another scream ripped from your throat. Your husband watched on in disarray but refused to even step away from you as he hugged you closer, your arms wrapped around his as you tried to stabilise yourself.

A gasp made you look up with worry only to find Baela smiling, “Another babe.” Cregan's eyes widened while you smiled feebly, genuinely ecstatic that you would have twins. Your mother returned to your side, holding your hand as you sobbed into your husband's chest.

Fortunately, this time it went by a lot quicker and not long after you were already pushing out another baby. Your cousin was once more ready to catch your second child whilst Jace held Rhaenor in his arms, attempting to soothe his nephew lovingly. As you made the final push a sigh of relief left your lips before looking over at Baela, eyes curious to see your second child.

“Another boy,” you pressed a kiss to Cregan's throat, melting into his hold as you attempted to stay awake to see your sons. “What will you name him?” Jace questioned, an expression of pure joy spread across his face whilst you pondered for a second. You glanced up at your husband who was staring lovingly at you before you decided, “Ned.”

Rhaenyra raised a brow as well as Cregan. “Ned you say?” Her mother tried out the name which made you giggle quietly, “Short for Eddard.” Your husband tilted your face to look up at him, and you grinned at his astonished expression, kissing his cheek sweetly while he caressed your face, “A Northern name? I quite like it,” Jace grinned, glancing over at Ned in Baela's arms whilst he held Rhaenor, waiting for you to properly unwind. “Thank you, my love,” Cregan's reply to it all made you laugh softly, but you kissed him nonetheless mumbling something against his lips, only for his ears to hear.

The midwife smiled at the cheerful family and moved your dress to prepare you for the placenta that was yet to come when a frown appeared on her face. “What is it?” Rhaenyra inquired as she noticed the worrisome expression that the woman wore. She ushered your mother towards her quietly but Cregan had caught sight of yet another issue. Rhaenyra approached, fear settling in her gut as she could only pray nothing was wrong with you.

“Why is there so much blood?” She whispered, her eyes wide at the gruesome sight in front of her. “I believe she suffers a hemorrhage,” the words sent fear spiking into Rhaenyra as she could only remember her own mother before she turned to the midwife, a frantic look in her eyes. “Will- will she survive?” The words were barely able to leave her lips when yet another whine escaped your lips.

Cregan looked around with wide eyes, wondering what was transpiring around him as he tried to soothe you while glancing at your mother. She panicked and looked back under your dress along with the midwife who gasped loudly which caught the attention of everyone else. “What now?” An angry groan made its way out of you as your fingers clenched around your husband's hand that held you tightly. “I believe you are to have a third child!”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell slack at the news, rapidly looking up at Cregan who was just as dumbfounded, but he attempted to pull himself together for your sake, “It is alright, my love. You can do this.” Baela and Jace helplessly stood beside the bed, holding your children while you screamed relentlessly, pushing a third child out.

“What is wrong with you? Putting three fucking children into me at once!” You angrily yelled at your husband who only chuckled, nodding along while remaining oblivious to what was happening. “What will this mean for her?” Rhaenyra hissed, continuously glancing up to check on you while the midwife shook her head. “We cannot know but at this moment anything is a high risk.”

“Can we stop this birth then? Will it benefit her?” Your mother was desperate now, willing to do anything to keep you as the older woman beside her shook her head. “There is nothing we can do now.” The words absolutely mortified Rhaenyra and when your third child finally left your body she had quickly handed it to another maid before rushing to your side.

“Mother-?” The woman quickly shushed you, caressing your soaked hair with trembling hands as tears gathered in her eyes. You turned fearful at her odd behavior and Cregan tightened his hold on you. “What is it?” He hissed, your cousin and brother approaching with confusion lacing their expressions, but Rhaenyra disregarded them all as she kept her grasp on you, “You have done so well. I love you, sweet girl.” You glanced down, eyes wide in horror as you finally noticed the amount of blood. Cregan held in his tears as a lump rose in his throat, his hold only tightening around you as he attempted to convince himself that if he held you, you wouldn't be able to leave him. “What is the meaning of this?” Jace furiously asked while keeping his hold on his nephew gentle.

“Princess, you must push one last time. To get the placenta out. It is necessary,” you nodded shakily, closing your eyes as you collected all your strength to push yet again. Sobs raked your body violently until suddenly you felt dizzy, the world around you turning dark while sounds faded. A loud sob came from Rhaenyra as she hugged your body, praying for anyone to save her precious daughter, but it seemed like no God was interested in keeping you alive.

Cregan stared on in shock, his quivering hand moving to your neck only not to feel a pulse. He took your face into his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shook your head. “Y/n? Wake up,” his voice cracked. Jace’s knees buckled as he fell onto the floor, his eyes bright red while he buried Rhaenor in his arms. His betrothed gasped, tears falling as she loudly cried at the sight of your limp, bloodied body that was held by your mother and husband.

The midwife felt her eyes brim with tears, but she swiftly turned to inform the Maester of the news. She opened the door and the old man looked on questioningly as he heard loud sobs emit from the room. “What is the matter?” He questioned as she closed the door behind her to let the family grieve the loss of the princess. “Princess Y/n has passed,” the words startled the man as he furrowed his brows, bowing his head in respect. “What of the child?” The question hung in the air for a while before the woman replied sorrowfully.

“Princess Y/n has given birth to two sons and a daughter,” the man's eyes widened, triplets were extremely rare and mothers barely ever made it out alive during those labors. He nodded absentmindedly, processing the news, “I shall inform the council.”

Letters were quickly written to spread the news across the realm before they announced the passing of their Princess to the residents of Winterfell with much despair and regret. The people cried out for their Lady, participating in their Lord's mourning, and made offerings to your dragon Vermithor who had been restless. The ravens reached their destinations swiftly and left an impact on the Lords and Ladies of the realm who had remembered you as a lively soul.

“An urgent letter has arrived from Winterfell, your grace,” Ser Erryk declared, as the King nodded motioning for him to read it out loud while he continued eating. He had been one of the people most overjoyed of the news of your pregnancy and couldn't wait to meet his great-grandchild. Alicent placed her utensils down, glancing at her father and children before turning to her husband, “It must be from Princess Y/n.”

“Is she not due for another month?” Otto wondered out loud which caught the attention of his grandchildren as they all watched on in wonder.

“With much pride we can announce that Princess Y/n has given birth to triplets,” Aegon choked on his wine while Aemond simply raised a brow. “That certainly explains the early labour,” Otto mumbled.

“Her firstborn is a son named Rhaenor Stark, her second born is yet another son named Eddard Stark and her third born is a daughter named Daenara Stark. Unfortunately, we must announce that our dear Princess Y/n has passed during her labours.” Ser Erryk's eyes widened at the last part but remained quiet as the news settled within the royal family.

Colour drained from the King's face as he abruptly stood up, his eyes moist with tears as he lost yet another woman in his life due to childbirth and stormed out of the dining hall. Alicent let out a shaky breath, quickly praying for her step-granddaughter while her father sighed deeply not heartless enough not to pity the poor girl. Helaena cried loudly before she too rushed out of the room to find comfort with her own children.

Aegon rubbed a hand over his face, as he recalled the last time he saw you. He grabbed the wine pitcher, not glancing back as he left to drown himself in his drinks with you in his memory. The younger prince watched on with furrowed brows, he wasn't fond of you, and yet, he felt a tug at his heartstrings at the thought of you. Perhaps somewhere deep down within him, he did care for you, the early days of your childhood you spent together instead of with your brothers who enjoyed teasing you for the lack of dragons.

The castle was glum that day, both the Royals and commoners mourning the loss of their dear princess.

The funeral preparations started early on with Daemon insisting that you should be buried like a Targaryen, while Cregan fought back, wishing for your body to remain in Winterfell.

“She is a Targaryen!” Daemon roared, his hair sticking to the back of his neck as he fought with the other men while Lucerys was weeping in his mother's arms. “She is my wife! I do not see the point of arguing over this with you,” Cregan seethed, his hair had grown out longer than he'd like, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. “She is also a Velaryon!” Corlys butted in, which made the two angrily turn to him. Viserys pinched his brows together, his head aching from all this screaming and arguing, “I have had enough of this! She shall have a Targaryen funeral in Winterfell.”

Daemon seemed pleased with this while Cregan clenched his fists together as he had wanted to bury you. He wished to have the ability for your children to visit your grave when they were older, but now they didn't even have that privilege. “Now, I want to see my great-grandchildren,” the King sighed, as the Northman hadn't shown anyone his children.

“Yes, I would like to see them as well,” Daemon agreed, moving to stand closer with his family which consisted of Rhaenyra, Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena. Cregan reluctantly nodded, his face unmoving as it had been for weeks before he departed the room to get his children, knowing his wife would have wanted for her family to meet them. As he entered their chamber, he let out a shaky breath, placing his hands on the back of a chair in support as he tried to keep his tears at bay. When knocks echoed through the room he quickly straightened and turned his face solemn only to see Jace. “I thought I could help carry them.”

Cregan simply nodded, walking over to the cradles where his three children laid. His eyes softened at the sight of them before reaching down to take Rhaenor into his arms. He was gentle with them which was so unlike him ever since you passed. Jace handed him his daughter into his free arm before reaching to hold Ned carefully. The babies gurgled, pulling at their father and uncle's hair as they sauntered back in silence.

The Targaryen and Velaryon family turned towards them as they entered the room, the King immediately reached for Rhaenor with a warm smile. “Who might this be?” He questioned, caressing the boy's cheek with his finger carefully while Alicent looked over his shoulder. She quickly took notice of his silver hair that resembled yours but raised her brow at his grey eyes which he got from his father along with all his other features. “That is Rhaenor,” Cregan reluctantly handed his daughter over to Daemon who had moved to grab her and chuckled at Daenara, placing a kiss on her chubby cheeks as she giggled. She had been born with your violet eyes and her father's dark hair.

“This must be little Ned,” Corlys grinned, as his wife held the baby. He was an odd case in their opinion, he ended up with violet eyes, but his hair was dark brown with streaks of silver hair. Cregan kept a close eye on all of them, making sure nothing happened to the babies, who were the only things left of you. “We must place dragon eggs in their cradles!” Viserys exclaimed, his eyes turning towards his daughter and cousin who both nodded.

“Luke, Rhaena would you like to pick them out?” Rhaenys questioned as Rhaenyra was quietly staring at her grandchildren with a heartbroken expression. The two nodded before hurrying off as Daemon glanced around, deciding whether to enrage the Northman or not. “Lord Stark does not know how to take care of a dragon. Especially not three. I suggest they come live with us for the time being,” Rhaenyra was silent as she reached to hold Daenara, holding her close as her eyes watered while Cregan glared harshly at the prince.

“No.”

Alicent pondered over it for a while before she piped up as well, “Think about it, Lord Stark. You had only been prepared to take care of one babe, but now you have three. You have no previous experience, and you do not have your wife to assist you. Then there is the matter of the three dragons as well do you truly think it would be best for them to stay here? Perhaps they could stay with us for some time, one in Driftmark, one in King's Landing and one on Dragonstone?” Cregan wouldn't hear of it, shaking his head furiously and Rhaenys could truly sympathize with him, but it was clear that he would need assistance.

“My children will stay with me, in Winterfell. I will take care of them and if you worry so much about the dragons, then you may come and help with them. But that is final, they are staying here,” it was clear that there was no room for any discussion so they decided to indulge themselves in the babes for a while before Cregan would take them back.

The funeral took place two days later, near the snow covered forest. Cregan had hardened his face, holding Ned in his arms, while Daenara was with Rhaenyra and Rhaenor in Jace's arms. He wore black furs and numbly stared at your body that was placed further away. Vermithor roared loudly, distressed with yet another rider of his dying, but the Northman paid no mind to him. It had been decided that the bronze fury would remain in Winterfell, in case that one of your children's eggs wouldn't hatch they could try to claim Vermithor.

Jace cleared his throat, as he had been the one that was appointed to lead the ceremony. He took a final breath before saying the dreaded words, “Dracarys.”

Vermithor roared once more, hesitating for a moment before flames engulfed your body. Cregan closed his eyes, his heart aching at the sight and pulled his son closer to him. He promised you that he would take good care of your children so you could be proud of them.

Years blurred into one another and while it was hard for Cregan, he always tried for his children who loved him relentlessly. The four Starks often visited the crypts where Cregan had a statue build for you and even whenever Rhaenyra and her family visited they would always stop by the statue with sorrowful expressions.

Throughout the years Jace had been named heir which retracted Rhaenor's claim which meant that he would be Lord of Winterfell one day. The eldest boy didn't mind it, preferring to stay with his father as he was clearly a Northern by heart. His egg had hatched first revealing a surprisingly calm swarthy blue dragon. Daenara's egg came out as well but was slightly harder to control as it was a rather energetic white dragon. The only egg that hadn't come out was Ned's but once he was old enough he had managed to claim Vermithor.

The council had suggested numerous times that he remarry but they couldn't use the excuse of heirs anymore as he had plenty of them. Cregan adamantly refused, he didn't care for it and stated that he would remain faithful to his first and only wife and so he did, eventually passing with his children by his side and a lasting ache etched into his heart.

the end © ioaezz, 2024.

[aeviterncl]

Odette stands in the doll shop, trying to debate all her options. She's here for herself (though when asked she'll say its for someone else), trying to fulfill the desires of her inner child. Her coat is draped over her shoulders, having just gotten off from work. Her long hair is pulled up in a messy, unkempt bun with her bangs almost falling over her eyes as she studies various dolls.

her eyes flick to the movement in the corner of her vision, but then back to the dolls. "Sorry for bothering you, I'm looking for uh... a princess doll of sorts. Something gothic lolita maybe?" She stands up properly to look over completely at Mirella with an awkward smile, fangs resting along her bottom lip.

UNPROMPTED ┊always accepting.

It wasn't common for a customer like the lady who walked in to show up. Most of her clientele were young girls or parents of young girls. The pastel pink, white, floral and frilly aesthetic of her shop attracted mostly the younger ones or those into the theme. While her little place wasn't exactly reminiscent of a fairy tale shop, it certainly was close to one, especially with the cozy cottage feel she had brought to the place.

Although she was surprised by her, Mirella welcomed her all the same, glad to see a new face wanting to maybe give a doll a new home. Maybe the good luck these dolls brought to her clients was making rounds enough for even those outside her target demographic interested in the place. She definitely wasn't one to pass along good chances to make new connections like this.

Listening to the woman's request, the soucouyant's smile faltered. If it was traditional lolita style she had plenty on hand, but she would have to custom make a gothic lolita styled doll. She wasn't against it of course, as she'd love to add them to her line up, but many of the girls who came in here didn't care for them—and thus she had to remove them from future stock counts.

❝ Unfortunately, I don't have any gothic lolita princess dolls on hand at the moment, but I can custom make one for you, ❞ she offered cheerfully, ❝ I'd draw out a sketch for you, and once you approve it I can take payment and have it ready for you within the next few days. ❞

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Thanks for the tag @bambirex 💕

I’m back on my Isabela Madrigal bullshit

🌸

When she was little, Isabela wanted to be a princess. So did Dolores, so did Luisa, so did Mirabel. Maybe every little girl dreamed of being a princess, at least once.

But no one tells little girls that being a princess isn’t all fun and games. It’s hard work. It means looking after people. It means keeping everyone happy. It means doing what’s expected of you, even when you want to scream.

Smile, smile. Wave gently in greeting when people call out to you. Move elegantly, gracefully; a dancer, a swan. Keep your poise. Be soft and sweet and charming. Make endless small talk with the villagers. Be polite; you must always mind your manners. Never yell, never raise your voice. Never lose your cool. If you must show unhappiness even that must be pretty; a delicate sigh, a single tear, a melancholy glance towards the horizon. Smile, smile, smile.

No tangled hair. No red eyes from weeping. No flushed face. No scowls, no glares. Just a pleasant smile. A smile that says I’m listening, I’m here for you. Pretty pink dresses and endless flowers. Pastel tones, frills and ribbons. All worthy of the most beautiful girl in town, our perfect Isabela, our angel; such a charming girl, what a lovely girl.

No unhappiness. No ugliness. No mess.

Obsess over flower arrangements and panic over every little mistake, even the mistakes no one notices. Live up to that shiny golden pedestal you’ve been pushed onto. You know what will happen if you fall.

We don’t talk about Bruno. We don’t talk about Mirabel’s Ceremony.

🌵

Tagging @acewithapaintbrush @cannibalthoughts @greenvillainredemption @breannasfluff @trinikins and anyone else who feels like it 💕

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @dancingwiththefae, thanks lovely! ❤️ I'm also very 👀 about your snippet! Here's a little scene from the draft of the newest Mamma Mia AU chapter!

*

"Asshole," Jaskier huffed, entangling the goat's horns that got twisted in the handle of the bucket. "I brought you lunch, and that's how you thank me!?"

He heard something stir in the corner. One of the baby goats kept sniffing at a large haystack, craning its neck to look behind it. It started stomping on the floor with its hooves, the sound not helping Jaskier's headache.

"The hell are you doing there...?"

Jaskier's face went pale when he noticed something that looked like a human leg, pulling back behind the hay stack. The blood ran cold in his veins. Someone was in his shed.

"Amaryllis?" He tried. No response came. Jaskier's heart pounded like a hammer inside his chest. He slowly approached the haystack, the hairs on his arms standing on end. When he said he was gonna be abducted, he meant it as a joke!

"Who's there?" Jaskier called again, trying to will his voice not to tremble. "I have a metal bucket in my hands, it hits hard! And I have pepper spray in my pocket! And a rape whistle! I would reveal myself if I were you before it was too late, because I'm... I'm feral!"

*

Tagging @sokkas-first-fangirl, @eileen-crys, @samstree and honestly if you see this and wanna share your writing, consider yourself tagged by me! ❤️

[rewritingcanon]

teddy and victoire headcanons because they are such an ‘it’ couple to me:

fairytale sort of love

like teddy would transfigure themselves to look like a prince when they were super young because then vic would get upset at him because how could they be a prince whilst she couldn’t be a princess? and then teddy would just say ‘but you’re already a princess vic’ and yeah. literal disney-like childhood friends to lovers

when teddy went away to hogwarts for the first time victoire was absolutely distraught, and even more so when she found out out he’d been sorted into hufflepuff because she was convinced she would be in gryffindor since she’s a weasley (surprise! she wasn’t!) and got immense separation anxiety

so everyone knew they would get together and that it was only a matter of time, and fleur, being the romanticist she was, was obsessed with teddy.

like if victoire brought any other person back home fleur would be polite but there was always that hint of coldness towards them because why aren’t they the golden-hearted punk enby vic’s been so clearly in love with since she could process what love was????

teddy and fleur are like that rough, has a cracked tooth, part time tattoo artist who constantly smells like nicotine and the pristine middle aged french woman who has casually acheived milestone successes in her youth and always has her hair and makeup done pair and they just binge watch sad, terribly-written romance films together because they are both extremely sensitive and LOVE cliches

also they do each others makeup and victoire gets very sheepish about it sometimes

victoire and teddy were both heartthrobs at school and they had major game, so they didn’t have much trouble getting partners. suprisingly enough they were never that toxic ‘seething-with-envy’ pair of friends. they were actually quite supportive of one another, if not confused at why they got sad sometimes when seeing the other with someone else

james will claim he found out first that vic and teddy were in a relationship, but it was actually dominique, who is leagues better at keeping secrets.

victoire is high strung perfectionist and teddy is a concentrated chaotic mess, but instead of it being a peeve to each other, they simply balance each other out

teddy used to have dreams of victoire leading up to the moment they realised they were in love with her, and sometimes would wake up morphed as her and become incredibly confused (having gender identity issues was not helping their situation)

teddy gets victoire into philosophy, victoire gets teddy into curation. no one ever thought they’d see the day where either things were possible

victoire has an incredibly grumpy designer persian cat called Camille and she only has a soft spot for her and teddy

after a really long and stressful day at work (victoire’s a sub manager in st mungos), teddy will take down vic’s ponytail, and gently brush her hair out as she relaxes on the couch.

teddy is just overall being great spouse material, i could go on about this point by i would have to make a seperate post

its the tattooed blue-haired bruised-knuckles punk x preppy pastelle pink 2000s fem aesthetic couple

its staying up in your room painting your nails or flipping through an old magazine with your cracked phone crammed between your face and shoulder at night as you slowly fall in love with your lifelong best friend over the phone, and you don’t even know it, because this had been going on for years.

teddy fell first, victoire fell harder

this is a couple that wears big chunky platforms and sleek shiny heeled shoes ONLY

teddy is a huge flirter whilst victoire tends to get flustered more easily, but their dynamic switches when it comes down to each other, making victoire the flirty one and teddy the shy one

victoire’s love language is acts of service, teddy’s is all five because he’s perfect (words of affirmation mighttt just top however)

that’s all because this post is already so long. lmk and request if anyone wants hcs on any other couples!